by Chris Ward
The three looked at each other.
‘Alright we give it go. First thing in the morning,’ said Rema enthusiastically but his cheer was met with less reception than he had hoped.
‘We will give it a go,’ replied Bilgram quietly. ‘We will give everything a go, for we cannot give up. At least not yet.’
Rema spent much of the night tossing and turning, trying to work out the best way to devise some sort of anchor. By the morning he was no closer to a solution but he was up early and scoured the island for a large rock. In this he had a large choice and Andes was quickly recruited to bring his selection to the boat.
‘This weighs at least as much as another person,’ grunted Andes as he laid it by the boat. The bigger the rock the better the anchor but the more it will tax us to move it all upstream. We are somewhat caught by the rules of such a situation.’ Rema nodded. He knew this to be true, but went off and found a sturdy branch which with the help of Bilgram’s axe was shaped into a spike which might be used to pierce the bottom or be inserted into some crack in a rock. When all was ready they set off again, carrying much more than the day before and immediately it proved to be a problem. They made some headway out into the river but the deadweight of the boat, now lower in the water gave the current more to push against. Within a span Andes spoke his mind.
‘We must try your plan now Rema for I cannot keep this up much longer.’ The problem now was to get the anchor rock out of the boat and not lose too much ground to the river in doing so. It was ready and fastened by a short rope and Rema gave a quick glance over the side. The water seemed not too deep.
‘Alright we do it now,’ he said and as they had agreed, the rowers secured their oars and Rema and Andes lifted the rock, almost capsizing the boat and threw it into the water. The effect was immediate. It sank and found some purchase on the bottom which seemed to be clean shingle which then caused a problem, for the anchor rock just dragged back as though ploughing a field, leaving a mighty furrow in its path. The boat went slowly downstream.’
‘Right, Andes,’ cried Rema, ‘you try the spike, Bilgram and I will row and hold position if we can.’
Andes leapt over into the water holding the spike which also was secured by the only other piece of rope which they had. The two rowers thrashed madly and managed to almost halt the boat’s progress downstream. Meanwhile Andes was swept away completely, unable to reach the bottom and suddenly became an added drag upon the boat as he held on grimly to the spike. In that moment the rope on the anchor rock parted, worn through by the dragging over the shoals and the boat was off once more in the wrong direction. They shipped the oars and carefully managed to help Andes into the boat without tipping it over, which on several occasions seemed very likely. They sat exhausted and realised that there was no way of escape upstream. It was a bitter realisation indeed and they did not speak a word all the way back to the safety of the tiny island.
That night as they ate another tasty meal suddenly Rema laughed.
‘What is so very funny?’ Andes inquired.
‘Well I just realised something about my plan.’ He continued to laugh.
‘Go on tell us man,’ said Bilgram, intrigued that such a subject could possibly seem so funny.
‘Well,’ said Rema, realising that his laughter was little over done, perhaps prompted by their dire situation. ‘I spent all night trying to work out how to put an anchor down and hold the boat. What rock to use, the best shape, how heavy it should be...’ The other two nodded. ‘Only I never gave a thought to how we might raise it back it into the boat. It was hard enough tossing it over the side. It would have been impossible to get it back in. If I had only thought on that it would have saved us a great deal of rouble.’ There was silence for a while.
‘I still don’t think that is very funny,’ said Bilgram finally, and Rema knew his mirth had been misplaced.
‘Well anyway,’ said Andes after a time, ‘I think we agree, we are not rowing our way out of this trap.’ He nodded slowly and was joined by the other two.
‘Which means we have to find way through the reeds,’ said Rema finally, ‘downstream.’ They all looked out over the placid water in the fading light to where the whip-reeds waited, and they each shivered a little, but Bilgram most of all.
Rema was up early the next day and took his book to a quiet place on the small island and read. He wanted to distract himself for a time from their dire predicament. Andes still slept and Bilgram was poking the fire and seemed aloof and preoccupied by his own sad thoughts. The book was wonderfully intriguing and Rema had read bits and pieces, snatches of the story. He was not a good reader, and found the going hard in places for the writing was small and of a flourishing style typical of one who is old and who has time upon their hands to make the work as much a piece of art as to convey a story. But he had learnt much, and went over earlier sections when something new prompted him to find more detail of what he had first touched on only lightly. In this manner he began to see a bigger picture of life in Revelyn and of how his forebear, his namesake Rema Bowman had used his skills to defeat the evil Zelfos and Lord Petros and bring his love Sylvion Greyfeld to the throne. He was enthralled by the mention of the wonderful person of El-Arathor who appeared at times to give guidance when matters seemed almost lost. He was amazed at the hint of a world beyond Revelyn where this mighty one lived and to which it seemed all had the chance to visit when their lives were at an end. The evil was another matter, and with this he had some connection, now that he and Andes had faced the Shadow Hunter. And their own encounter with El-Arathor had convinced him that now, a hundred summers after Rema Bowman had brought peace to Revelyn and overthrown the threat which Zelfos had manifested, it was back, as El-Arathor has said; and he and Andes had a part to play in once more standing firm against it. And now the land itself seemed sick and dying. The evil this time was different.
He sat and looked out over the beautiful lake as the sun rose, with a myriad thoughts all competing in his head.
So why are we trapped here in this swamp by such fell things as whip-reeds, he thought, surely it cannot end here. We must be able to find a way out.
Then he opened the book and read.
I, Rema Bowman and the faithful few were chased by the king’s men out of Waterman which is where I managed to save the life the young Edenwhood boy. We were hard pressed but we made quick progress toward the Eastern Upthrust, the land of AlGiron, looking for a way up into that strange lost land to make contact with the Edenwhood. This was vital to our plans. We needed time to explore along the escarpment for some clue as to how this might be achieved. I had a simple map but it was by no means clear. I was forced to hold off the soldiers who were in pursuit. I remember having a dispute of sorts with Reigin the wolver. He scoffed at the idea that I could take down a rider from such a distance. I fired two arrows from over a league distant and was able to bend the flight to send the shaft to the mark. This was not unusual but I remember also travelling with arrow, as though on its tip, and seeing the land below. It is not something I had done greatly before but it was amazing. Both arrows found their mark and two soldiers fell in quick succession. Reigin the Wolver was by my side, watching, and thereafter he accorded me some great respect for my skill with the bow.
Rema gasped. This was the clue.
What timing he thought that I should read of this right now. I have his gift...I too can see the land from high, surely I can. I just have not tried beyond bending the arrow in flight.
In great excitement he went and brought his bow and quiver of strange arrows to the place he had sat and read of this. He took a deep breath and fired an arrow high up in the air and out over the lake. He bent the flight by use of his gift and watched it turn this way and that until it fell far out into the water. It took three arrows. Each time he moved the flight, bending the arrow at will, but each time he watched it from where he fired. The fourth arrow was suddenly different. An instant after release he was travelling with it, as though
upon the tip. In his mind he saw the lake below and immediately the land around and the shape of where they were. As the arrow fell harmlessly into the water he knew they could escape. Once more he fired and this time he sent the arrow high almost straight up and saw out over the country and the vast swamp which held them. For a moment he saw the channels which led downstream from the lake, flowing with the current into the great swamp; and he saw where best to go. And looking at his quiver, he counted ...still fourteen arrows.
‘Thank you El-Arathor’ he whispered. ‘We are saved.’
In great excitement he woke Andes and asked Bilgram to provide some charcoal sticks from the fire. ‘And I need something to draw upon,’ he replied to the man’s puzzled look.
‘Well perhaps I can help you out,’ said Bilgram and went to his small pile of possessions. He returned with a small parchment pad and quiver pen, and lastly a tiny ink holder. Rema was mystified that one so humble as a farmer should have such wonderful things.
‘No one knows, not even my wife,’ he said somewhat shyly. ‘I love to draw and whilst I tell them I am off to fish that is only partly true.’ He handed Rema his parchment and sat as his drawings were examined. Rema was amazed.
‘You have a great gift Bilgram,’ he whispered in awe, for the pad was full of drawings of the rivers and trees, of animals drinking in the evening, of ducks and geese flying and landing. ‘These are the best I have ever seen.’ Rema looked at Bilgram who was quite pleased with such comments. ‘And you have shown no one?’
‘You are the first and I do not know why, but perhaps it is this place. I have found that my despair at ever escaping has overcome my fear of being ridiculed for trying to capture the world around me in my scribbling.’
‘These are no scribbles, Bilgram.’ Rema said emphatically shaking his head. Andes came and sat with them by the fire and he in turn looked in awe at Bilgram’s work. He looked about identifying some of the depictions.
‘I see that tree and that view across the lake. You have captured them perfectly.’
‘I would have gone mad long before now without this simple distraction.’ He smiled. ‘But Rema you needed something on which to write perhaps?’
‘If you would allow me to use one small piece of any parchment you choose and a little ink and the pen it will assist me in my plan.’
‘By all means, my friend,’ replied Bilgram and he took an unused sheet and handed it with the pen and ink to Rema.
‘You must promise me something,’ said Rema as he accepted the items and looked directly at Bilgram.
‘I am not really in a position to promise much,’ he replied.
‘No, but if you find yourself released from this place and returned to your family, you must promise me something.’ The two men stared at each other from a moment, till Bilgram shrugged and sighed.
‘Of course; I think at this moment I would promise anything.’
‘Good. Then you must promise me to show your family these drawings, and further you must show others whom you know.’ Bilgram smiled weakly and Rema knew he was struggling with some deep fear.
‘Perhaps you have been scorned when young for this skill which you love, but Andes and I have seen what you can do. You have no need to fear any; in fact with your gift I am sure you could make a tidy sum from commissions. There are many these days who like to have a picture of themselves or their family or their dwelling, and place it on a mantle or take to show friends. You have shown here that this is something you can do quite easily.’
Bilgram smiled and shrugged again, his hands open before him in acceptance of the kind words of encouragement. ‘I promise then Rema Bowman...but only if you get me out of this place,’ he added, and they all laughed then.
‘And what is your new plan?’ Andes asked.
‘Eat some breakfast, and you will see,’ Rema replied. ‘Give me time and I will return and explain all.’
The other two looked puzzled but remained by the fire talking as Rema went back to the quiet place on the island where he had sat that early morning. It was out of sight of the camp and Rema was glad of it for he knew that Bilgram would be unsettled by his gift. He found a flat stone and placed the parchment upon it. He readied the pen and then took his bow and an arrow and fired it high and rode with it and looked below and saw the lake and the land as before. When the arrow had fallen into the lake he went and drew as best he could the lake and three of the downstream channels which looked safe enough to allow the boat to pass. He repeated this three times more until he settled upon the best of these channels and he proceeded to fire arrows and look upon the swamp, marking carefully on the parchment the twists and turns of the channels for some distance south and east towards the Luminous River which gleamed brightly in the distance, but it was not clear how they would arrive here.
I will need to work on this map as we go he thought, so perhaps I need to find a place to rest the boat.
Three arrows later he found a place which seemed like a small island with few reeds some distance along the channels.
‘If we can make it to this island by tonight, I can improve the map from there.
But he also saw that everywhere the whip-reeds choked the channels and grew thickly about any dry land. We will need to be careful he thought again, but we can do it. He paused...
‘We must do it,’ he whispered. Rema counted his arrows and once more there were fourteen; and so with a smile and a growing confidence he went with his simple map to explain his plan to Andes and Bilgram.
‘How can you have a map?’ Bilgram asked in amazement. ‘You never mentioned this before.’
‘I have only just made it,’ replied Rema. There was an awkward silence.
‘How? How did you just make it?’ Bilgram was bewildered. Andes too looked puzzled but had some deeper understanding of matters than Bilgram who was totally confused.
‘Bilgram, you must trust me,’ said Rema gently. ‘I have certain abilities which I have not yet revealed...’
‘You are a wizard perhaps...’ Bilgram interrupted somewhat indignantly.
‘No, I’m not a wizard,’ Rema laughed at the thought.
‘Perhaps we should discuss the map,’ said Andes. The three looked at each other and Rema took the opportunity to explain it.
‘There are three main channels out of the lake into the swamp proper. This one here is the best and the widest. Also the current is strongest. I have shown the best route. Also the false channels which we must avoid at all costs. If we can get to here,’ Rema indicated a small island some distance into the swamp, ‘then I can extend the map for the following day.’ The other two said nothing.
‘I see some scratches on a parchment,’ said Bilgram, ‘and to these you would commit your life?’
Rema nodded.
‘Bilgram I can get you out of this place, back to your family. I know it seems strange but you must trust me.’ Andes said nothing but he too thought the map no more than a scribble of lines.
‘I know it looks rather poorly,’ said Rema, ‘but I have not your skill in drawing Bilgram, but this is our only way. We cannot go upstream. We must go through the swamp.’
‘And what does all this indicate?’ Bilgram asked pointing on the map to the large areas which Rema had marked.
‘Those are the whip-reeds,’ replied Rema sombrely. ‘They grow everywhere.’
‘Are you sure of this?’ Andes asked.
‘I am,’ Rema said firmly. ‘We will get through the swamp and to the Luminous River beyond. It will take two days. This day, and tomorrow. If I can see the channels and extend the map tonight, we will get there in two days. The current must surely flow strongly through the channels.’
‘And if the reeds clog the channels?’ asked Bilgram. Rema took a deep breath.
‘Then we are lost.’ Rema knew it had to be said. There was quiet for a time.
‘We will still be close to the reeds and the boat offers no protection,’ Bilgram said after a while.
‘I ha
ve thought of that,’ Rema replied. ‘We take your boat Bilgram which is the smaller and upend it on ours. We cut out the bottom to leave us a way to row and higher sides for protection from the reeds. In this manner if we drift into them we can at least be safe for a time.’ Andes nodded, but added...
‘Until we need to row or try to get free.’
We have no other way, my friends’ said Rema firmly. ‘We stay here in this sad paradise, or we trust my map.’ He looked at both men in turn. ‘For me, I started a journey and I will not sit here and end it now, in the faint hope of some miraculous rescue.’
‘I think this map would be that miracle...if it can be trusted,’ whispered Bilgram to no one in particular.
‘Help me with the boat Andes.’ Rema took control then. He desperately wanted to get his plan underway. He knew it must seem a madness to the others for they had not seen what he had upon the tip of his arrows. His view was clear, like that of an eagle. All they had was his word. I too would likely baulk at such a scheme, he thought. But that is as it is. We must get out of this swamp.
They worked in silence as Rema directed. The smaller boat fitted snugly on the other and when the bottom was chopped out it provided higher sides and places to find cover from the reeds should they need it. They added holes for the oars and then all seemed ready. Andes suggested that they add a little weight to the bottom of the boat to ballast it or else it might capsize in a tight spot. Some rocks were duly found and proved most valuable upon testing the strange craft. When all was ready Rema gave the order.
‘Get your things Bilgram and stow them all. We will leave immediately. Andes you must row and keep the boat in the centre of the channels. I think we travel stern first. Keep the bow into the current and row to slow our progress, unless I say otherwise.’ Andes nodded. He was seeing a new side to his friend; Rema gave directions clearly and without a hint of arrogance. We are learning much about ourselves these past few days he thought.
