“I hate to waste the time on a detour,” Antello said, “but I do not like swamps either. I will try going a little farther south.”
Going south for a while did not help. They steadily proceeded farther into the swamp. The grass was mostly under water and huge twisted trees dotted the landscape intermingled with tall reed patches. Mosquitoes buzzed the small party and the slaps aimed at the tiny insects sounded as loud as canon shot in the still night. Muffled curses mixed with the slaps and the sloshing of the water as Antello searched for a way out of the swamp. The moon’s light was bright now, but there was only swamp visible in every direction. Occasionally one of the horses would stumble into a deeper hole and Lyra’s heart beat rapidly until she was sure that it was not one of those bottomless holes she had heard about.
Antello was soaked to the skin from finding those holes by going first. Eventually, Syman had pity and took the lead. Soon he was equally wet and cursing louder than Antello had. Time dragged on and Lyra knew they were not making much headway, and yet there was no place to camp for the night. They might be able to sleep in one of the huge trees, but she would not let the horses stand in swamp water through the night. Syman started weaving from tree to tree in hopes that the ground was firmer where the trees grew. The water level in the swamp appeared to be getting deeper and Lyra thought about suggesting that they all turn around and go back. Syman must have read her mind because at the next tree he halted.
“This is not working,” Syman sighed. “We seem to be getting deeper into the swamp and I see no end to it. I am going to climb this tree and see if I can find some dry ground.”
Lyra looked up into the tree and screamed. Not three feet over their heads was the largest snake Lyra had ever seen. Its body was as round as her thigh and seemed to go on forever. It looked down at her and its tongue lashed out in a hiss. Lyra screamed again and her horse sensed her fright and pranced about. Lyra lost her balance and fell off the skittish horse into the muck of the swamp. Syman scrambled to lift Lyra while Antello restrained her horse.
Lyra was soaked and mud covered as Syman pulled her to her feet. When she went to scrap off the mud, she screamed again. Her hands were covered with leeches and Syman began plucking them off her face.
“Turn around,” Lyra screamed as she began tearing off her clothes.
Antello secured the three horses and kept an eye on the snake, which was curiously watching the drama unfold below. Syman stared at Antello as he hummed a tune and Lyra was cursing as she frantically ripped leeches from her body and threw them through the air.
“Check my back,” Lyra pleaded.
Syman turned and started pulling off the leeches that Lyra couldn’t reach, still humming his little tune. Antello couldn’t hold his amusement in check any longer and doubled over with laughter.
Syman stopped humming and announced, “They are all gone now. I will turn my back again.”
“You had better,” growled Lyra as she dressed after checking each garment for leeches.
After she finished dressing she turned to find that Syman had moved over to where Antello was watching the snake. Antello was fighting to keep a straight face and Lyra was fuming.
“And what was so funny about being covered with leeches?” she screamed.
“I am sorry, Lyra,” apologized Antello while trying to keep the grin off his face. “It was the tune Syman was humming, not your discomfort.”
“What was the tune?” Lyra quizzed in a slightly calmer tone.
“It is an old sailor ditty about a wench who gets talked into bathing naked in the fountain in the Town Square for her boyfriend, only to find that her boyfriend has invited the whole tavern to watch,” explained Antello. “I just couldn’t hold it in.”
“I’ve a good mind to throw both of you scoundrels into that swamp water and watch you get your leeches off,” laughed Lyra as she saw the humor in her predicament. “In any event, I want to get out of this swamp now, but I suggest we find a different tree for Syman to climb.”
Lyra felt better after laughing, but she really wanted to bathe in some clean water. They mounted their horses and Syman headed for the next large tree. Syman scampered up the snakeless tree and peered in each direction. In minutes he was back down and astride his horse.
“I think I see an end to it,” he exclaimed. “A little farther south the land rises somewhat. It must be drier there.”
Syman led the way and within an hour the party had left the swamp for a gradually rising slope of dry grass. They found a copse of sevemor trees with a stream running through it, which probably fed the swamp. After the horses were secured, each of them headed for the stream to rinse the muck and swamp water off of their bodies and their clothes. Lyra offered to dry their clothes with her magic and they grabbed a bite to eat before creeping under their blankets.
The sun was already up when Lyra awoke and she shook Syman and Antello awake. Antello lead the horses to the stream, while Syman climbed a tree to check out the landscape. Lyra laid out breakfast for everyone and had started to eat when Syman dropped out of the tree. Antello returned with the horses almost at the same time and they both tore into their food hungrily.
“We were fortunate getting through the swamp,” informed Syman between bites. “It is pretty vast and we ended up cutting across a narrow portion of it.”
Nobody felt a need to reply and Syman continued, “I think we are being followed. It is hard to tell, but I saw something that looked like a group of riders making their way through the watula field. We slept later than I would have liked. If they started tracking us at dawn, it is possible that they are on our trail.”
“How many?” asked Lyra.
“Hard to tell,” Syman answered. “To be seen at this distance though, it must be a large party.”
“They will find it hard to track us trough the swamp,” Antello stated. “They can’t see tracks that are under water.”
“Not as hard as you think,” Syman frowned. “They don’t have to see hoof prints to track us. Just the trampled grass will be enough to give our course away. In fact, they will make better time through the swamp than we did because they will not have to zigzag as much.”
“Well our horses are well rested as are we,” Lyra mentioned. “I suggest we ride hard for a while and increase the distance between us.”
“Agreed,” confirmed Syman. “We should head south for a ways. The land is dry and becomes forested in a little while. There is more of the swamp to our east. We will also be gaining elevation and maybe we can get a better look at them this afternoon. Hopefully, we will find out that they are not the invaders.”
“I had hoped that they would not follow us in the Sakova,” Antello said.
“I think they want me bad enough to go anywhere,” sighed Lyra. “Maybe they will all drown in the swamp.”
The trio mounted and Syman led the way south. As he predicted, the land sloped continuously upward and within an hour they gained the protection of the forest.
The forest was comprised mostly of age-old fargi trees, tall and thick. The forest floor was dark and foreboding, the sun unable to penetrate the foliage of the massive trees. The forest had a musty smell about it and the bushes below had broad green leaves, almost obscuring the ground completely. What ground could be seen, was covered with decaying leaves from the fargi trees. Small animals skittered away from their path as they traveled.
Lyra felt a tingling sensation along the back of her neck, similar to the feeling she got whenever someone was watching her. She scanned the forest but saw nothing other than trees and bushes and pushed the feeling away.
They rode until high sun when Syman halted at the edge of a precipice. A river cut through the forest and had eroded a canyon that was clearly too wide to jump. Syman dismounted and walked to the edge. Standing right on the edge, he peered east and west before turning to face his friends.