CHAPTER NINE—ADVENTURE ON THE UPPER EIPHR

The oarsmen grunted with every stroke of their exertions as the river water gently trickled and splashed against the hull of their boat. Across the water in the distance strange animals cawed and cried in the thick jungle.

Ali smacked his face with force far harder than necessary. Shiro glanced at him as the Abassir looked down at whatever insect was lying smashed on his fingers. “I hate this place,” he muttered. “Never have I been somewhere where there were so many pesky insects.”

Razul sauntered up the deck. “They have not bothered me so much, brother. I say it is your sweet blood, yes?”

“Shut up,” Ali said in annoyance. “This trip down the Eiphr is supposed to be how long?”

“We do not know,” Shiro said, not looking about for Jessamine. For the most part she had stayed out of sight. She didn’t care for the heat here, nor the bugs as Ali was having so much trouble with. But she also did not care for the soldiers.

Common louts, she had called them.

Now they were within the upper Eiphr, which was the very same body of water as the Urmia river that flowed so generously through Darshuun, cutting the lands of the Abassir Empire down the middle, providing a lucrative water trade as well as beautiful banks of white sand and luscious oases.

But this part of the river, now called the Eiphr, was uncharted—considered to be a dangerous thoroughfare into hostile territory where men and other beings went and never returned.

“But how much longer, Shiro?” Ali asked as he glanced about the jungles on both sides of the river. A bird of some sort cawed loudly again, a strange and almost monstrous sound.

The oarsmen and soldiers on deck glanced about warily as if the beast might swoop in any moment to pick one of them off the deck.

“It has only been ten days,” Shiro said, trying to ignore his own nervousness—for the men’s sake—as something buzzed near his ear. He swatted at it casually to make it go away. “We have at least twenty more days.”

“Ugh! Can we not just cut through these jungles back to the dry dessert air here?”

“Of course not,” Shiro said. “Do you not remember the plan?”

“He remembers,” Razul said with a grin. “He just can’t accept that he’s here.”

“I do not even know why you needed me to come. I am no powerful warrior like you three—hells, I am an ant. Like the rest of the men on these boats.”

The men sat across the deck under the shade mats supported by bamboo latticeworks. These canopies were not usually a part of the boats, but the sweltering sun and the humid environment was beginning to take its toll.

Ali, ingeniously, had suggested they stop their boat and build the canopies. It had been an excellent idea, and now they were being made good use of.

The oarsmen rowed with the current, while men with long river poles pushed against the bottom to keep the boats from turning into a shallow or a rock.

Theirs was the only boat on the river, save for the rest of the force further north a day’s travel up the river. As they had discussed, it had been decided that Shiro would lead an expedition to scout the Eiphr river, as well as the lands of Avarnis ahead of the rest of the army to make certain they would not lose their force.

These lands were… mostly uncharted.

“A wild, untamed monster-festering…” Ali muttered, trailing off, but Shiro wasn’t listening. He was thinking, watching—as was Debaku, who kept quiet and watchful, though the curiosity on his face was strangely lacking for the most part.

Razul had a secret smirk on his face. Whether that was for his mistress back in the capital or for some other reason, Shiro did not know, but he was glad for the man, nonetheless. His spirits were high, and he seemed to be quite happy to be away from his duties as bodyguard for the sultanah.

In truth, it was a terrible assignment to begin with. Razul was a free spirit—untamed, and lacking responsibility. He was not fit for the role in the least. But here… this was better for his sort. Adventure, women, wine and riches was what he wanted, and what he always talked about.

The man was an adventurer through and through.

The magnificently-haired Abassir sauntered about the deck, his jacket open and his chest bare, like most of them.

Like Raz, Shiro did not wear a turban. He didn’t like wearing them, despite Jessamine having picked out some for him the last time they were in Darshuun together after the death of Darius.

At his hip was his red scimitar slung there, ready to be used whenever necessary—a gift from Jessamine.

In fact, they all wore their swords.

At Razul’s hip was the sword he had won off of the dungeon boss in the dungeon of Azurbadan. Shiro had learned that while holding the weapon—which resembled a fish’s fin and glimmered blue and iridescently—one could swim like a fish against the current, like the water didn’t exist.

It was quite a unique magical blade. And powerful.

“I admit,” Debaku said finally, his snake-like grey eyes wandering to Shiro and then to Ali, “that I would not mind slaying some monsters.”

Shiro sighed. The boat was boring, but seeing this river, the Urmia turned into the Eiphr—it was, as Ali called it, an untamed, monster-festering place. They were in dangerous territory.

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In the distance off of the river, creatures called out, cried or squawked. During the day there were many of them, but at night the place teemed with life, both with animals one might expect to see, but also with monstrous varieties—all chirping, squawking, and growling within the trees.

It was like nothing Shiro had ever heard.

The night before they had doused their torches as the wing beats of some beast at flight soared overhead, no doubt searching for pray to kill and devour.

No wonder the men were wary today. The men had gasped before holding their mouths, their wild eyes scanning the night skies silently and their hands on their sword hilts.

They did have some archers, but not many.

As warriors in the Abassir lands went, archers were usually far fewer than swordsmen and spearmen. Against faster foes, often with magical abilities, archers were often useless.

So were swordsmen, but archers particularly.

A shaft could only fly through the air so quickly. For Shiro, he could step out of their paths or knock them aside. It was easy now that he was considered to be at a top-tier status.

“We will need to hunt for meat soon,” Razul said. “You cannot give the men boiled grain for very long before their morale begins to sink, I think, eh?”

Shiro found himself nodding, despite thinking that Razul was simply looking for an excuse to leave the boat and kill something.

“Soon,” Shiro said.

This expedition is important. We cannot treat this light heartedly—like some adventure.

But why not? Jessamine suddenly conveyed, her tone dripping with playfulness.

I told you not to listen to my thoughts.

Oh, was I doing that? Forgive me, Shiro.

He sighed. Some things will never change.

Amusement was conveyed back. Let the men hunt, while we find a secluded place just for the two of us. Hmm, Shiro? Does that not sound fun?

Raising an eyebrow, he realized the others were watching him as he made facial expressions for seemingly no reason whatsoever. Surely they knew about Jessamine’s ability to communicate with him outside of audible speech, but it still must have seemed strange by their viewpoints.

Embarrassment took him and he turned aside to look out across the greenish waters of the river.

Soon, he conveyed.

Jessamine mental state was one of patience and boredom. At least, she allowed Shiro to know nothing more, her emotions and words within his mind silent.

“Do you notice that?” Ali asked, his tone one of curiosity.

“The animals,” Razul said. “They have stopped making sounds.”

Debaku nodded silently, then took two steps forward and glanced about. The water below the boat splashed gently against the hull along with the oars. “It is peculiar.”

And then the boat was bumped—a hollow knocking of wood on the underside of the river vessel. It rocked and some of them men made startled sounds.

“What was that?” Ali asked quickly, his eyes wide.

The Black Cobra of Mar’a Thul put out his arms for balance. Among them all, Shiro did not doubt that he was the most skilled among them, so he followed the man’s example and braced for balance..

“Nothing,” Razul said flippantly. “We probably scrapped a shallow or something.” He smiled. “What—are you scared?”

“No,” Ali said, standing up straighter. Swallowing visibly, he said, “There is something underneath the water!”

The Scorpion Guard captain Ushtan under Ali’s command shouted up front for the men to check the water’s depth.

Quickly they got up and cast the weight into the water with a splash. The rope sunk, the knots hitting the sailor’s hand one by one. “Nineteen paces, Captain!”

Ushtan shrugged. “Nineteen paces… It is deep.”

Ali turned, a look of confusion on his features, and horror. “Then what was that under the boat?”

“Perhaps you should go below the water and check, eh?” Razul laughed. “It was nothing. A tree branch, surely.”

“What? Me? You are the one with that fancy fish sword, brother! You do it!”

“No one is taking a swim,” Shiro said. “It was probably nothing.”

“So I imagined it?” Ali asked indignantly. “I know you felt it. Look at Debaku.” He pointed. “Still, he holds his arms out.”

“Debaku?” Shiro asked.

“The Eiphr,” he said slowly, “is not a region untraveled by myself. The river is known to harbor, certain large beasts.”

“Large enough to sink boats?” Ali asked. “Come on, do not joke about this.”

“Do I look like I am making jests, Abassir?”

“Shit, man.”

Suddenly the boat was rocked again and Shiro felt it so greatly that he moved slightly as his center of balance was knocked of kilter, his arms swaying as he attempted to keep balance.

The men shouted and several scimitars came out of their sheaths.

“Do you see!” Ali screamed emphatically. “There is something!”

Shiro glanced about as the men on deck did the same, their hands on their sword hilts—for those who hadn’t drawn their weapons yet.

“Hmmm,” Razul hummed.

“Keep your eyes open!” Ali shouted to the men. “Something is here.”

Ushtan moved to the side of the boat and leaned over. Ali realized Shiro as he shook his head, and he grabbed Ushtan by the back of his collar and pulled him away. “Be careful, man. We do not know what this thing is, yes?”

Ushtan, strong and impressive as a non-magicker, nodded. “Yes, I think you are right, Master Ali.”

“Stay away from the edges of the—“

The boat lurched, the movement so fast and swift, Shiro felt his surprise travel into his stomach as a man screamed. A splash followed. The men on deck shouted in fear and Ali jumped over the decking toward the bow as swift as any of the sailors.

The men screamed and spun about, their swords in their grasps. Shiro hadn’t seen what it was.

“Help you fools!” the man in the water cried.

“Get him out!

“Catch this rope!”

They hauled the Scorpion back up on deck, wet and soaking and shaking from fear. “I saw it! I saw it!”

“What is it?” one of the men shouted up from the back.

The men babbled and hollered.

“Silence!” Ushtan commanded. He glared about. “Be silent—all of you, you gaggling fools. Like women!”

“Tell me what you saw!” Ali said to the wet Scoprion.

He nodded emphatically, swallowing.

“Be calm, man, Debaku said, his tone deep and but not unsympathetic.

“It was! It was—there—it was a serpent!”

They all turned their heads.

“No it was not!” another Scorpion Guard shouted. “I saw it as well!”

“You did?”

“Oh yes!” he said, his eyes wild. “It was a massive beast with teeth—longer than my forearm.”

“The beast was longer than your forearm?” Razul asked, his tone mocking. “My, that is massive, man.”

He shook his head emphatically. “No, no! Not a serpent.”

“It was a sea monster!” another cried.

“Who was taken?” one man asked.

“It was Hazan! He’s gone! We’re all going to die!”

“Hazan is here, you idiot!”

“What—they got him out?”

Shiro rolled his eyes.

“Be quiet!” Ali snarled.

Shiro was alert, ready to strike at whatever that beast had been. It was surprising, really. At first Ali had acted the coward, much like the men did now, but instantly he was taking charge.

“Stay away from the sides of the boat!” Ali ordered. “If this beast breaks the water again, we kill it, do you understand?”

Debaku lurched forward and landed on the very edge of the wooden balustrade. The pole bearers and oarsmen had pulled their pieces over the railing, making it difficult to get by without raising one’s knees up to their waistline. He glanced out over the water.

All was silent.

“What do you see?” Shiro whispered.

Hmmm. This should be interesting, Jessamine conveyed, her enthusiasm and interest clearly piqued.

Shiro felt annoyed. This is not a game.

No—her tone in his head was full of flippancy and playfulness—of course not.

Her amusement flooded into the samurai’s consciousness, enough to actually make him grin like a fool.

Stop that!

She giggled.

Oh, Shiro. Lighten up, my love.