“I will lead the search party then!” Amara exclaimed loudly. “Anyone wishing to join, follow me.”
The room fell silent. Orisa looked troubled about this plan. “Amara, you are very brave to propose such a mission. But I don’t think we can give you as much support as when you rescued Saline. We are spread very thin right now and every key position is vital. You would have to travel across very hostile territory.”
“I know the area down the river better than anyone,” Amara replied. “We have to make another rescue attempt. I have confidence and experience in this kind of action. I rescued Saline and I will rescue the other captives.”
“I believe in you Amara,” I confided. “I will be at your side if you go.”
Orisa continued his objection. “There is a big difference between a one person rescue as you did with Saline, and rescuing thirty or more. You put yourself and Saline at great risk. If you wait a few days we might defeat the Umbunti, and then our warriors can make another rescue attempt.”
Amara became agitated. “If there is an all-out attack the hostages will be killed. We must plan a surprise rescue now. This is the only way we will get our people back alive.”
“Amara, please listen to Orisa,” Atarena chided. “He is right. This is way too dangerous now.”
“Please don’t worry, mother,” Amara replied in a softer voice. “I am going to proceed with great caution. If it becomes too dangerous then I will withdraw immediately.”
Orisa was silent for a moment. “You are determined,” he said. “I do admire your grit. Go then, Amara. I will convene a council meeting immediately to determine how many warriors we are able to send to help with the rescue mission.”
“I am honored to have your trust,” Amara said. “We will need to leave as soon as possible. I will begin preparations. Thank you for your help and trust, Orisa.”
Atarena looked down and tapped her fingers on the table. She did not look pleased. “Amara, you are barely back from one rescue mission, and now you are off on another? You are going to put me into an early grave. What ever happened to my little girl? All grown up now. I wish that you would stay home and help me. But you are so fearless, like your father. You seem to thrive on danger.”
Amara smiled at her mother and she held her hands. “When I return, mother, I promise that we will be together always, and we will once again go to market. We shall teach the children as before. But now I need to go and save some of those children from the hands of our enemy.”
A tear fell down Atarena’s check. She forced a smile. “I understand, Amara. Go and bring back those children.”
A cheer went up in the long house. People began to clap in approval. It was good to see everyone so happy and supportive, yet my heart felt heavy knowing the dangers of this mission.
Orisa assembled the tribal council. They met in one of the other buildings. Amara and I waited anxiously for their decision.
We started to pack for the journey. Amara loaded our back packs with food and supplies, and she filled the water sacks. She also gathered a supply of weaponry; several quivers bulging with bows and arrows, flint knives, shields and spears. She also packed several torches, a coal lantern, some tender and flints for fire making, and some hot embers in a container.
“Why are we taking so many weapons?” I asked.
“Once we free the captives, they will need to fight to defend themselves. This will improve our chances of getting out in one piece.”
“Good thinking, Amara.”
The elders began to exit the long house. The meeting had not lasted very long. Orisa came to us as we completed our packing.
“The elders have agreed to provide warriors to support your rescue,” he said. “They will meet you at the Beaver Marshes at dusk.”
Amara nodded. “Then we must leave now so that we can be at the Beaver Marsh at sunset.”
“Take care, Amara,” Orisa said, placing his hands on her shoulders, then they embraced.
We were ready to depart. All the villagers came to see us off. Amara and I put our fully loaded packs over our shoulders and fastened knife sheaths to our waists. Together we carried our weapons stash in a clasped tote.
We went to the side of one of the long houses. There were several canoes lined up there. Amara chose the longest one. We placed the weapons inside and carried it to the trail.
Atarena had tears streaming down her face as she embraced us. Many villagers watched and waved as we departed. We waved back and continued down the trail. It was mid-morning.
Some warriors on patrol helped us carry the canoe to the river. We launched as soon as we were at the water.
We were back on the river once again, moving downstream. Amara paddled in the front, I sat in the middle, and our supplies were in the rear section.
The sky was getting cloudy. This raised the possibility of rain. This could slow us down in the rain was heavy. It was still warm with a slight breeze at our backs.
The river was wider here and was hemmed in on both sides by the dense lowland forest. I could see deer and smaller animals foraging along the river banks. There was a peaceful calm which made me feel content. I hoped that it would stay like this.
There was a low rumble of thunder in the distance, and I felt some light drizzle on my face.
Amara suddenly stopped paddling. She was looking at something on the river bank to our right. I saw some shapes there, but I was not sure what it was. As we drew nearer we saw a frightening scene. There were dead, mutilated bodies hanging from poles placed in the ground. The bodies had been so battered that it was impossible to determine if they were male or female.
“Who are they?” I asked solemnly.
“I am not sure.” Amara answered. “They could have been some of several farming families from this area.”
I felt nausea sweep over me as I looked away in repulsion. The Umbunti wanted to spread terror through the land, and they were successful by displaying such scenes of brutality.
As we continued down river we encountered other scenes of mutilation. Many people had been the victims of a massacre in this region. I felt angry that we could not save these people.
Seeing such atrocities made me fearful for my husband, Mar. I did not know where he was; the last news which I had regarding him was that he fought battles near Swan Lake. But this was several days ago. From all appearances, it was certain that the Umbunti now controlled much of the lowlands.
The dark sky and the steady drizzle hitting my face only intensified my feeling of despair. I started to worry about our rescue mission to save families from the Umbunti. Could we possibly succeed? Amara and I, with a handful of warriors, against perhaps hundreds of hostile Umbunti? Now, our chances seemed very slim. I had to take several deep breaths to keep myself calm.
I wondered what Amara’s plan might be to free the captives. I knew she was clever and not lacking in bravery or fighting skills.
Amara was strangely quiet. We were past the massacre areas, but these grisly scenes had placed an oppressive mood over us. As the sky became darker with storm clouds, the river water took on a murky shade which intensified our oppressive feelings.
The drizzle changed into a light rain. There were more rumblings of thunder in the distance. I felt colder as a steady breeze began to hit our faces. I was having doubts about our rescue mission, and I was hoping that we would turn back.
“I am cold and wet, Amara!” I cried, shivering. “What are we going to do now?”
“We keep going!” Amara exclaimed, sounding a little annoyed with my display of weakness. “A little rain changes nothing. It may even be to our advantage.” Amara glanced back at me. “There is a water proof canopy in that side pack,” she said, pointing to a large bag among our supplies. “Put it over you; it will keep you warm and keep the rain off!”
“No!” I answered. “I don’t want a cover over me. I want to see where we are going. I want to be alert if we are attacked again.”
Amara nodded and co
ntinued to paddle the canoe downstream. We passed through an area of wide open pasture land on the right side. I did not see any animals grazing in the fields.
Something looked very familiar about this place. I knew that I had been here before.
“Are we near your village, Amara?”
“Yes, we are,” Amara replied. She pointed downstream. “Do you see our houses and council halls? They are now in rubble. The Umbunti have torn it all apart.”
All the roofs were gone on the buildings, and most of the walls as well. The entire village was wrecked and abandoned. The village which had been a hub of a vital, bustling trade center was now reduced to a pile of dismembered timbers.
Amara stopped paddling the canoe and we coasted slowly past the ruins of the River Village. Jagged lightning bolts flashed across the sky, tracing a path directly above the ruins, followed by a loud thunder clap. I thought that this could be a heavenly sign. Amara’s river goddess was angry?
Amara raised her hands, palms up, towards the dark sky. She chanted a prayer of supplication. I said my own prayer silently to the Earth Mother. We would need blessings from above if we were to complete our rescue. I ended my prayer with the words, “Please watch over us.”
We passed the River Village ruins. The destruction was unbearable to look upon. I tried to think of better days, before the Umbunti invasion. Before our world had been turned upside down. The days of trade at the River Village; the voices of people bartering goods as I set up my display of handmade baskets. Father trading his fur pelts for tools or spices. The children playing around the tables, trying to get me to join their games. The aroma of meat roasting over a fire prepared for a great feast at days end.
The rain stopped but it remained overcast. In the early spring season, we would often have heavy rain showers. It could pour down one moment and then stop, then start over again. This could go on for days in the spring. I hoped that the rain would hold off for a while, so we could dry out.
“How far are we from the Beaver Marsh, Amara?”
“We can make it before sunset. We are over halfway there. Are you hungry, Saline?”
It was difficult to eat after what we had seen on the river, but I needed to eat to keep up my strength. Amara pulled some dried meat from our provisions pack. She broke a chunk in half and we chewed on it slowly and washed it down with some tea from our drink sack.
Watching the forest creatures and the light meal helped me to relax and get my mind off the horrors we had encountered. We were once again surrounded by dense forest on both sides of the river. Large birds of prey circled above the treetops. Squirrels scurried about on the tree trunks and ground, foraging for food.
“We are fortunate in that we have not been spotted by any Umbunti war patrols,” Amara said. “perhaps the rain has kept them inactive.”
“Or they may be involved in fighting across the lowlands near my village,” I added.
Amara nodded and looked in my eyes. “I hope that our warriors are pushing the Umbunti out of our territories. We need to have a decisive victory, or we may never get our lands back again.”
“We have never had so much difficulty pushing them out of our lands before this,” I replied. “There are more of them now and they are more organized.”
Amara stopped paddling the canoe. She appeared to be upset. She looked down into the murky water for a moment. Suddenly she leaned forward and covered her face with her hands.
My heart sank. Amara was the brave one, the leader of our expedition. Was she breaking now? We had both been through so much turmoil these past few days. Seeing the massacre scene and the ruins of her village added to this.
Now it was my turn to be the strong one. We were once again in the dark recesses of my ancestral cave, and I needed to take control and lead us out of the jaws of death into the light of a new day.
I leaned forward and placed my hands on her shoulder. “Amara, don’t worry,” I said. “I understand. We have suffered so much at the hands of our enemy. We will fight them and win, and we will be happy again. We have many strong warriors and we shall defeat the Umbunti.”
I held Amara in my arms as she continued to cry silently. I wished that my words could have been more comforting. I was beginning to feel the despair of our situation.
As I comforted Amara, many thoughts raced through my mind. I feared for Mar. There had not been any news from his war party for many days. Was he safe? Were the forces under his command successful against the Umbunti?
I felt like crying, too. A tear steamed down my face. I had to keep telling myself to be strong. I had to fight these tears. I closed my eyes tight.
When I opened my eyes, I realized that we were veering off course. The canoe was hitting against the reeds in shallow waters along the right bank.
I took the paddle off Amara’s lap and started to row. I had never done this before, but I had watcher Amara up to now. I was able to dislodge the canoe from the shallow bottom and headed back into the main current of the river.
Amara perked up when she saw that I was controlling the canoe. She started to make helpful suggestions about my rowing. She let me row after that, and we started to take turns. We both felt much better.
The sun broke through the clouds for a moment. Its position in the sky was at half past midday.
Amara and I started to tell funny stories from our youth. We laughed about the day when we were little, and we fell into the mud in the pig pits outside Amara’s village. When we tried to get out, we slipped several times back into the pit, and the pigs came and licked at our faces and feet. It tickled and made us laugh hysterically. Amara’s mother was furious at us.
We laughed about the day when we climbed up a cherry tree in the lowlands forest. There were red ants in that tree and we were bitten hundreds of times. We screamed and fell from the tree and rolled on the ground trying to get the ants off us, and our cherries spilled all over the ground and bounced off our heads.
It felt wonderful to laugh and to remember these carefree days. We were both feeling much better now, our spirits lifted.
Amara suddenly stopped paddling. She pointed ahead to a small stream inlet.
“We are at Beaver Marsh,” she said.
Amara steered the canoe towards the inlet. The stream was so shallow that we had to get out of the canoe and carry it beyond a stick and mud waddle beaver dam. There was a wide marsh beyond the dam. Lilly pads with delicate white flowers covered the marsh from one side to the other.
Amara and I launched our canoe and we paddled out into the middle of the marsh. A late afternoon sun filtered in and out of the clouds; one moment there would be brilliant sunshine, followed by brief periods of cloud cover. There was dense forest surrounding the Beaver Marsh with lots of undergrowth and abundant wildlife.
We saw beavers swimming on top of the water, holding their heads up high and their rounded flat tails streaming behind. There were also many ducks, geese, swans and water turtles. There were also many woodpeckers high up in the trees. Several deer herds were at the marsh to drink and to eat the abundant grasses along the banks.
We waited for the warriors to come join us as Orisa had promised. We paddled the canoe all around the marsh several times. There were no warriors.
Chapter 11
The Captives
It was getting dark at the marsh. There was no sign of the warriors Orisa promised. We would have to move on without them. We needed to make camp before nightfall.
Amara and I carried the canoe into the forest, searching for higher ground that was dry. It was not easy to find a good spot that was well hidden to make camp. We settled on a spot deep in a pine grove, where we would be hidden from view. We turned the canoe upside down, propping it up with crisscrossed spears. Amara placed an ox hide canopy over the canoe. This created a warm, enclosed tent. She was an expert at making shelter quickly. I could tell that she had done this very often on her trading expeditions. We now had a good roof overhead to keep us dry and shielded from wi
nds.
It was too wet to make fire. Amara lit a torch when it got dark from some embers which she had kept in a bundle in a fire pouch. She placed the torch between our shelter and a tree so that it would not be visible from a distance.
We ate some flat bread and goat cheese for our late meal. We heard wolves howling in the distance and the harmonious sounds of crickets in the night. There was a chill in the night air that make me shiver.
Amara put out the torch, saving some embers for later. It glowed brightly for a while, then gradually faded out.
“We need to get some sleep, tomorrow will be most difficult,” Amara said. “We will search for the Umbunti camp where the captives are being held. This will be a challenge.”
A heavy haze was enveloping the forest. As we went to our shelter I tapped Amara’s arm and pointed towards the tree tops.
“Look, Amara, fog is forming.”
“That is good, Saline. It will give us good cover as we search for the captives.”
We crawled into the shelter and pulled a fur blanket over us. We both slept soundly.
I awoke to the sound of a noisy woodpecker in the trees. Amara woke up about the same moment, and she crawled over and opened the end of the canopy. Some light entered the shelter, barely enough to see, then the chilly morning air crept inside so that I could see my breath.
I raised up and looked outside. It was cold, damp, and foggy. I helped Amara roll up our furs and blankets.
We ate some smoked cured meats and dried fruit for breakfast.
“How did you sleep last night?” Amara asked.
“I got a good sleep, and you?”
“I slept very well, too.” Amara said. She looked at our shelter. “We will have to take that down and pack most of the weapons into the canoe, and then we must find a place to hide it.”
We dried out the ox hide canopy over a low fire that Amara made from dry kindle we had brought with us. The fire felt good. We saved more embers in our fire pack.
The Wings of Creation Page 7
