by Chris Ward
The land they now passed through was empty of human occupation, at least they saw no signs, but it seemed full of wonderful creatures. Rema saw mighty eagles soaring high above and kites hovering over grasses from which the sounds of small creatures came clearly. Aldelope came to drink in great herds and twice they saw a prowling sabrecat which seemed unconcerned by the passing of their craft. It sniffed the air and growled tremendously and then in an instant it was gone. They noticed now that rushes and reeds began to frequent the water by the banks and Rema thought that perhaps the current was slowing. They camped on the east bank as dusk came upon them and ate well, Rema having taken a large Revel hare not a half span after starting out to hunt. The night was uneventful apart for the normal sounds of the nocturnal creatures which abounded and by the noon of the following day they had put many leagues behind them. Andes commented that the banks on either side were now covered deep in rushes and reeds and yet the river still continued to flow with great speed.
‘I wonder where all the ducks and geese are?’ said Rema after having considered that they no longer seemed to be present. ‘They were plentiful a day or so ago.’
Andes shrugged. ‘Perhaps we will see some tonight. The reeds here must offer excellent cover for waterfowl.’ Late in the afternoon they both watched as a flock of wild whistlers flew over in perfect formation before landing in a flurry not far off downstream.
‘See, I was right,’ called Andes, ‘we will see more I am sure.’
At that moment one of the ducks, seemingly unnerved by the boat’s approach paddled madly toward the reeds, and then to Rema and Andes’ horror the reeds attacked the poor bird. As it approached they seemed to sway towards it and when close several long whip-like appendages lashed out and struck the poor creature simultaneously. Feathers flew in all directions and it quacked several times in terror, but it was caught and pulled into the reeds where a ripple of movement and sound radiated out for a moment and then subsided. The other whistlers took flight in wild panic and flew fast upriver low above the water calling nervously without ceasing until the distance was too great for them to be heard. Andes and Rema sat in shock.
‘Did you see that,’ whispered Andes finally. ‘The reeds took the bird.’
‘Something like that,’ said Rema. ‘Did you see the way they lashed out like they had whips of some sort or....’ he could not finish, it was just too strange. After a moment he spoke again. ‘I wonder if they are poisonous.’
‘I am not wanting to find out,’ Andes replied and then they looked about and realised that both banks were covered in the reeds so thickly that they could not see a break on either side and only the tops of the trees growing there were to be seen. It dawned upon them at the same time that they were now between two walls of dangerous plants and had no way to land without breaching the reeds in some manner. At that moment the river seemed to slow and widen, and they found themselves floating in a small lake but still travelling toward the far shore which was thick with reeds as well,
‘It is a swamp of sorts...a reedy swamp, ’Rema breathed fearfully, ‘there is swamp marked on my map just before the junction with the Luminous River...’
‘But the river has disappeared,’ said Andes interrupting him, looking all about as he readied the oars, for they were still moving steadily and he had no wish to be swept into the reeds. But the river had other ideas and the current was still strong enough to keep the boat moving along. Andes rowed powerfully against the flow but at one point they were pulled by some eddy close in and the reeds swayed alarmingly toward them.
‘They sense us!’ cried Rema, ‘keep clear Andes.’ But the boat was suddenly unwieldy in the water and without warning several whip-like appendages cracked out toward them and Andes caught two on his right arm before he managed to pull away again. For a moment he gave no reaction, and then he gasped in pain.
‘They are poisonous Rema, I can feel it in my blood, and the pain is like a hundred hornets. We must get away from the bank.’ Rema knew that only Andes could row them for he had the strength of three men despite his arm on which great welts had risen up, and the skin where the whips had landed was torn away.
‘Where do we go?’ Andes asked doing his best to steer the boat out into the centre of the small lake.
‘I can see no opening to the south, it is all reeds and we cannot row against the current upstream.’ He turned from looking all about. ‘How long can you row Andes?’ but the giant just swore and kept on, his face showing great strain and the welts ugly and raw. At that moment they heard a cry from across the lake.
‘Look over there,’ Rema called, ‘there is someone waving from over there.’ He stood up carefully. ‘I believe it is an island...very small... but it is safe from the reeds. There is a man there.’ He turned back, ‘Can you take us there Andes?’ Once more the big man just gritted his teeth and rowed across the current and some part into it, until with encouraging shouts from the caller they rowed to safety on the tiny island in the lake.
Rema leapt from the rowboat and pulled it to safety on a small sandy shore with the help of the stranger who had run to their aid. Together they helped Andes out. He was just able to walk, but stumbled and fell twice before they arrived at the man’s rough campsite under a tree, high up above the water. The giant fell and lay gasping for breath. The man immediately examined his arm and whispered to them both although it was not clear if Andes understood.
‘He is struck by two only. Three is a death sentence, but two for one so large is survivable. He must rest. He will be ill for some time. He must drink.’ He stood and smiled at Rema.
‘I am sorry, but we should introduce ourselves. My name is Bilgram... Bilgram Bogram. At your service.’ He held out a hand and Rema grasped it gratefully.
‘Rema Bowman.’
Andes reached up weakly and they shook hands in turn. ’Andes Blomberg,’ he said hoarsely then lay and closed his eyes and grimaced with the pain.
‘Your call was timely Bilgram,’ said Rema quietly. ‘What fell place is this we have come upon?’
‘It is a swamp,’ Bilgram replied seriously, ‘and these reeds are called whip-reeds for reasons which you do not need me to explain. They grow all about as you can see and are quite deadly... to animals and humans the same.’ Bilgram stood and looked out over the small lake and Rema followed his gaze. As far as he could see the reeds encircled them and had swallowed the river completely.
‘Well I am glad we have run into you then Bilgram,’ said Rema after a while, ‘for we need some guidance to get past this lot.’ He waved his hand around indicating the reeds.
Their new friend smiled and shook his head sadly.
‘I am afraid I will not be much help.’
Rema frowned. ‘But you have been of great help already. Surely if you are here you know the way out... or through, or whatever is required to avoid these awful reeds.’
Bilgram turned and looked Rema firmly in the eye. ‘My friend, I am in the same position as you.’
‘What?’ Rema exclaimed, ‘what do you mean?’
Bilgram just looked at Rema and a sudden understanding came upon him.
‘How long have you been here, on this island?’ he whispered with a quick glance at Andes who remained lying with his eyes shut.
‘Two summers now,’ said Bilgram sadly, ‘and you are the first people I have seen in all that time.’
Chapter 6
Rema absorbed Bilgram’s sad revelation and felt as though a great weight had fallen on him from high above. He swallowed and nodded slowly to show he understood.
‘You have been trapped here for two summers?’
Bilgram nodded. ‘Two summers Rema Bowman. I was caught like you in the current upstream and before I knew, the reeds had hemmed me in. I almost died getting to this island for I could not see where to go. I too was whipped by the reeds, but only once by good fortune and so I made it here.’
‘Is there no escape?’ Rema asked, again looking at Andes to see if he h
ad heard.
‘The river is too swift to row against, although with three of us it might be possible. Your boat is bigger than mine, but I do not think it will make any difference.’
‘What about through the swamp, down river?’
‘There is no river,’ said Bilgram soberly, ‘there are several channels out of this small lake but it is impossible to tell which to take and if they are too narrow and the reeds close in there is no way back. The current is too strong.’ Rema stared out across the seemingly placid lake. In the evening light it was so peaceful, and yet it was a prison.
‘Water,’ called Andes hoarsely and Bilgram quickly answered his call.
‘The one thing we have is good clean water...’ he said as Andes drank deeply from the flask he was handed, ‘and plenty of food. The lake is full of fish and the ducks which come past seem to know that this island is safe, so with a little skill one can live forever here in this paradise!’ He spoke sarcastically for it was now apparent to Rema that his isolation had played heavily upon his mind. Bilgram muttered privately in a manner which was incoherent, only catching himself when he realised that he was being watched. ‘I am talking to myself much more now, and my mind wanders to other places,’ he said standing and stretching. ‘You must forgive my madness. I cannot say how good it is to welcome you here despite our prospects.’ He went to a small fire which was smouldering and added wood.
‘I have some fish which we can grill, so please make yourselves at home, it will be ready in a short while.’ Rema let Bilgram cook for he saw the man was overcome with emotions which he could not share, but wondered how he might feel two summers hence if they did not escape. He went to Andes and inspected his friend’s arm. The welts were angry and around the torn flesh there was great inflammation.
‘I will try the Fernwood bark,’ he said. That should ease your discomfort some and perhaps reduce the chance of festering.’ He worked in silence, cleaning the wounds and applying the bark which he wet to bring out the healing properties, all the while trying to remember what his kindpa Refr had told him about such medicine; but he could not. In the end he simply bound the two strips around Andes’ arm with some cloth which Bilgram offered. Andes did not speak but nodded in appreciation when all was done.
‘Best I can do Andes,’ said Rema. ‘You should be improved by the morning; anyhow it looks like we will have plenty of time to rest. We are in a strange predicament my friend. Have you ever heard of such plants as whip-reeds?’
Andes shook his head and Rema knew that he was thinking of Fryn and what this new turn of events might mean. You are soft inside Andes, he thought smiling gently, despite your Edenwhood blood, one minute a warrior the next a love sick boy.
They ate well and even Andes managed to force some food down knowing that it would speed his recovery. As they ate Bilgram told his story.
‘I live with my family not far from the Swifft River. I am a simple farmer and two summers ago when the crop was in I took some time to fish. My wife Rachel and the children, my little Lucy and the twin boys Gregor and Jymie went to visit relatives.’ He paused then and shed a tear quite unashamedly lost in his memories of those most dear to him. After a time he continued. ‘After the crop is harvested it is the one time of the year I can have for myself. I have a small boat...you see it over there,’ he indicated his rowboat lying not far from the other, ‘and I put it on my cart and with all I needed for a few days I made it to the river. I have done it many times in the past only this time it was different. For some reason I thought I might row across the river and camp downstream a little, on the opposite bank. You know ...try a new spot where the fish are bigger.’ He smiled as though at his own foolishness. ‘That’s when I realised that the reeds and rushes had grown thickly to the bank and when I tried to get through they attacked me. I have never known of such things and I have lived all my life near this river. It is sorcery, or the like, what else can explain it.’ He paused and took a deep breath. ‘Anyhow I was caught once and the pain almost knocked me unconscious. I drifted downstream and the further I went the more I saw that I could not escape. I finally came to this swamp, this lake, and chanced upon this small island. That is all. I have been here two summers as I have said. Many times I have tried to row upstream and find where the current is weak, but each time I have failed. It is impossible.’ He paused once more. ‘At least it is for me. With the three of us...who knows?’
And then Bilgram shed tears of pure grief. ‘My family must be distraught for I cannot let them know I am alive. I do not know if I will ever see them again.’ He turned away and all was quiet save for the shaking of the poor man. Rema went and sat beside him, and placed a friendly hand upon his back.
‘You have been through a hard time my friend but we will get out of here. I promise you Andes and I will help you get home.’ He looked over at Andes. ‘Won’t we?’
Andes nodded. ‘That we will Bilgram Bogram. No man should be separated from the one he loves for any length of time. We will get you home my friend. Let me get my strength back and we will see what we can do.’
This generosity of spirit seemed all too much for Bilgram who spoke through his tears. ‘Thank you both,’ he said. ‘Thank you so much, and I am sorry for my weakness but it has been hard.’
They slept fitfully. Rema could not rest well knowing that all progress on his journey had come to a halt. Andes descended into a shallow delirium as the poison wracked his body, and twice in the night called for water which Bilgram brought immediately for he too could not sleep thinking about his renewed chances and hoping that his two new friends would indeed help him return to his loved ones.
Andes was much better in the morning but they rested through the day and talked about what first step to take to escape the deadly reeds.
‘It is maddening to think that the river leads north, upstream to safety and yet we cannot reach it unless we find some way to defeat the current,’ said Rema.
‘We will give it a go tomorrow,’ replied Andes thoughtfully. ‘I am not yet able to give of my best and it will depend on me...’
‘Perhaps we can use two sets of oars,’ interrupted Bilgram. ‘We could set up mine and the rowlocks in your bigger boat and with Rema and me rowing together, an oar each; you Andes could use the main oars.’ Andes and Rema looked at Bilgram.
‘What a good idea my friend,’ said Rema, ‘that would mean Andes is not trying to carry us all, we can at least increase the chances.’ Bilgram smiled, happy to have his idea accepted. They worked throughout the afternoon, boring holes in the bigger boat with the aid of their knives and crudely setting up the rowlocks, which were secured with timber wedges soaked in water to expand and hold them fast. When all was done they wrapped wet cloths about them so that overnight they would not dry out. Before the evening meal they swam in the clear water and both Andes and Rema were delighted by the wonder-world they discovered in the lake. The bottom was a shingle of rounded rocks and a myriad of fish swam all about. The current close by the island was not too great, being a little distant from where the old river course passed through the lake. The water was crystal clear and warm enough to allow the simple pleasure of diving and frolicking about.
‘If this was not a prison, it would be the most beautiful place to visit,’ said Rema as they sat drying in the fading sun. Andes nodded but remained quiet.
‘I have had enough of such a place,’ commented Bilgram. ‘It is lonely here on your own and no amount of beauty can replace those you yearn for.’ Andes nodded again.
‘You’re right there Bilgram Bogram,’ he whispered to himself. ‘You’re right there.’
In the morning they tried for the first time to escape the lake and the deadly reeds. They took the boat along the lakeside, a stone’s throw from the reeds, circling north and upstream until they met the main current flowing against them into the lake. It surprised them by its sudden strength for the three rowers were not well able to wield their oars effectively together and the boat swung around in
a full circle before they steadied and set about rowing against the flow. At the start they made progress, moving along steadily until the lake was left behind and they found themselves in the river proper. They kept rowing. Andes’ mighty strength took the main load but the other two gave him some respite and together they edged ahead. After two spans of heavy work, Andes hissed.
‘Can you see any end to the cursed reeds? Is there a thinning or a gap?’ he did not rest but waited for Rema or Bilgram to reply.
‘They grow as thickly as before,’ said Rema breathing hard.
In the end the river won. It was constant against them and their combined strength, even with Andes’ might could not row continually against such a foe, and when they rested for even a moment the river won back much that had been won.
‘We cannot win this battle this way,’ said Andes who was by now quite worn out. ‘If we continue we will have no strength left to get back to the island.’ With a heave he turned the boat around and let the river take them. It was a bitter disappointment and the look on Bilgram’s face was one of total despair. They sat quietly regaining their strength and thought about what next to try. They returned to the island by noon and sat separately unable to know what could be said. At the evening meal of fresh grilled trout, which would have tasted superb except for their situation, Rema pronounced he had an idea for the next day.
‘We need to rest. We cannot row continually. If we could anchor the boat midstream, we might regain our strength and then continue. So it would be like taking this island with us. We would not need to return here.’
‘How might we do that?’ asked Bilgram doubtfully.
‘The river is not deep. If we took a large rock or perhaps a spike we could place it on the bottom or in a crack or hole. Andes could do it.’ Andes raised his eyebrows, for he thought of the water sprite and did not want to risk any more distress; but he said nothing.
