The Walled Cities

Chapter 48

It was another day of traveling through the winding swamps. The morning had started off with a rainstorm, but we had started out anyways. Occasionally we had to bail out the canoes, but we were not going to let some rain stop us from getting as far as we could today. It had been two weeks since we had left the coast. I had gotten used to the long days of paddling and talking as we traversed the winding waterways of the swamp.

Adaire had been cheery these last few days and had told us that at our current pace we would be in dark jungle of the interior by the end of the month. There were rivers we could follow through it as well, but the environment would be similar to home for him.

One of the main differences between the swamplands and the jungle was the animals that we would see. Since the rain had stopped this morning, all manners of animals had crossed out paths or watched us from the banks. Elephants and giraffes as Adaire and Lucia called them, had waded through the water paying little mind to our canoes or even us. I understood in a way, as they were bigger than anything that I had seen back home. To them, we were ants, small and insignificant, as long as we did nothing to threaten them. Nothing seemed to bother them as they moved through the hip deep water and shoulder high grasses. A few of the elephants had their children following close behind, and even they were bigger than a horse. No one would believe me when I got back home. Perhaps I would be able to get Lucia to do some drawings of the different things we had seen, so that I could show people who would never have the opportunity to see such.

Lucia and Adaire noticed the look on my face and commented, "They are magnificent. Only a pride of hungry lions will attempt to bring one down, and even then, at great risk to themselves. Some of the forest tribes have learned how to coexist with them and use them to move heavy loads. Unlike those in the slave cities, they know only how to abuse..."

At the mention of the slave cities, my thoughts darkened. I did not notice it, but my face morphed into one of suppressed rage and fear. I would find her and no one would stop me. Anyone who had harmed her would regret it.

"Z, my friend, we will get her back. Captain Adaire of the Masai people does not go back on his word. My words should not have been spoken, you have enough to deal with. Let us enjoy the rest of the day." Said Adaire, pulling me out of my thoughts.

Feeling my stomach gurgle and growl, I asked, "Do you know if there are fish in these waters?"

"Yes, there are large catfish. They eat just about anything that comes their way. Just be prepared for a fight, they do not give up easily."

As she did with anything new, Lucia scribbled down what he had said, before adding, "If you do catch one, I want to examine it.... please." She added as an afterthought.

Smiling slightly, as I had become used to her wanting to document everything, I pulled out one of the hand lines I had brought with me when I had started on this trip across the world. Fishing was something that I had learned as a boy, and was relatively the same process, wherever you were. After sticking a chunk of bait on the hook, I tossed it a few feet away from the canoe.

Watching the ripples across the water, I made myself comfortable. Fishing was a slow process, that required a great deal of luck, as the fish had to be nearby and hungry. This was my first time trying to fish since I had left home. During the voyage across the Atlantic, some of Adaire's crew had pulled up some massive fish. They had been blue or silvery in color, and had tasted delicious. Catfish were not as delicious but I found them everywhere I went, and they were easy enough to catch.

Curious, I asked Lucia, "Do your people fish much? I know you said they mostly mine, tend flocks, farm, and all the other things needed to run a society."

"Yes. But we have few lakes that are inhabited. My people fish on the sea, and in rivers. River fishing is different, it is called fly fishing. The person has a long pole and a string and hook attached to the end. They flick it back and forth across the water, waiting for a fish to bite the fake fly."

At that, my line jerked. Holding it tightly, I used my free hand to grab my short spear. Rather than fighting the fish all the way into the boat, I figured I could stab it. Letting the fish tire it self out, I noted how the canoe was being yanked around.

Sensing my hesitation, Lucia ordered in a no nonsense tone, "Do not even think about letting go. I can handle the movements and keep the craft from tipping. You worry about getting it in the boat."

Her tone reminded me of Kaelyn, who would have said the same thing. Longing struck me, but I pushed it aside. Rolling my shoulders, I readied myself for the fight.