The company agreed that lunch was finished, and they helped Cheros pack up so that they could continue on down the road. They decided they would go with Cheros back to his house, where he made a living building boats, and then purchase one of his vessels in exchange for the bandits’ horses, which he could sell on again at a later date. These were tethered to the carriage now. They could then take the boat up the Nahar river, in order to arrive at Qereth. Tektes, meanwhile, would stay with Cheros until he recovered, whereupon Cheros would escort him safely back to the Academy. Once this had been agreed, they all piled into the carriage, all except for Zantheus, who chose to sit up front with Cheros. He did not want to be in a small enclosed space with Leukos at the moment, however comfy it was. He tried to think about something else, but his mind kept coming back to the same thing. He could hear scraps of muffled conversation from inside the carriage.

After a while he said “Cheros, excuse me for asking, but when was it exactly that you picked up Leukos?”

“Oh,” said Cheros cautiously, “only a bit earlier this morning. About four hours after dawn, I’d say.”

“And how did you come across him?”

“Much the same way I came across you. He was just walking along the road.”

“And what did he say to you when you met him?”

“Er, he said he needed a boat, so he could sail up the Nahar. I told him I might be able to help him out.”

“He mentioned nothing about myself, or my companions?”

“Er, not at the time, no.”

“I cannot believe that he was asleep when we were attacked.”

Cheros looked thoughtful. “Well, he probably dud run off, didn’t he? But he doesn’t want to ’fess up to it. Probably doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the lady and young man and everything. I wouldn’t blame him. There’s no use getting het up about it. You’re all here now, that’s what’s important. Everything worked out for the best.”

Zantheus was not satisfied by this. He remained silent for the rest of the carriage journey, which turned out to take quite a long time. Part of him wanted to go inside and speak with the others, but he was stubborn. He stayed outside, watching the fields of Sadeh gently rise and fall around him rather than go inside and confront the writer again. After a few hours, they spotted a river, with which the road started to run adjacent. Another hour or so, and Cheros’s house came into view. It was built next to the river, right up on the bank; an inviting place, wooden, with two stories, a sloped roof and vegetable patches dotted around it. It looked as though Cheros had built it himself, which he soon confirmed to be the case. The carriage was driven into a little stable at the side. Zantheus got down and went round to check on the passengers while Cheros saw to the horses. Inside he found three sleepers, and Leukos. His companions had managed to take a synchronised afternoon nap.

“Wake up,” he said. “We are here.”

Grumblingly the nappers climbed out of the carriage one by one, and Cheros showed them to his front door.

“Um...wait a moment, would you?” he said. He unlocked the door and went in. They got a brief glimpse of a spacious, though not overly furnished household within. Before he could shut the door, a small girl came running up to Cheros, about nine years of age.

“Daddy, you’re back!” She stopped where she was when she saw the strangers. “Who’re they?”

“Katharē,” said Cheros, “I may have picked up some wayfarers on my way home…”

At this Katharē zoomed off with a cry of “Mummy, he’s done it again!”

Cheros sighed.

“Done what?” came a woman’s voice from out of sight, playful and apprehensive at the same time.

The owner of the voice appeared, but Cheros shuffled so as to obscure her view beyond the front door.

“Loving wife, I may have offered a lift to some strangers again—” quickly he added another clause, “But they’re going to buy a boat, don’t worry!”

There was a pause as some invisible interchange took place. Then they heard Cheros’s wife say “How many?”

“Well...er...don’t be cross, Soteria...”

“How many?”

“Um...five?”

“Five? Oh Cheros, you’ll be the death of me! How am I supposed to cook for five extra people? Did you at least bring back some beef like you promised?”

“Um...we ate it on the way…”

They heard an exasperated cross between a grunt and a whimper from behind the door. It opened, but only to Cheros. “Er, come in,” he said. They followed him through into the kitchen area, a wide space with a big rectangular table, an arger and a worktop for food preparation over on one side. Soteria was busy pulling out pots and pans and other implements from a variety of drawers. She was a little shorter than Cheros, wore her hair in a brown plait, and was clearly once very pretty, with a face as dark-skinned and kind as his that shone out through her wrinkles and other signs of age.

“Here, let me help you,” offered Anthē.

“Oh, thank you, that’s very kind,” said Soteria, glad of the assistance.

At the dining table, Katharē was sat with a palette painting a picture while her mother prepared the food. The assembly self-consciously addressed their host. “Thank you for accommodating us, we are very appreciative,” said Zantheus.

“Well, don’t expect anything special,” said Soteria. “But you’re welcome. Cheros, why don’t you make yourself useful? Have you unloaded the latest shipment of timber yet?”

“Ah, not as such, no.” He turned to the men. “Would you like to come and help me?”

“I don’t think I would be of much use...” said frail Tektes, so he stayed behind with Leukos and Tromo while Zantheus went outside with Cheros. They went back out to the carriage and started taking down the wood that was strapped to the top of it. They then carried it between them, at Cheros’s instruction, to his workshop, another small building made up of one room, situated behind the house, even closer to the river. In here they found a mess of woodwork, shavings and sawdust, a finished boat, and a teenage boy.

“Hi Dad,” said the boy. “Who are these people?”

They plonked down the wood. “Aggelos, meet Zantheus. Zantheus, meet my son, Aggelos.”

“Pleased to meet you,” they each said.

“I see our latest masterpiece has been finished,” said Cheros to his son.

“Yep. Ahead of schedule as well.”

“What sort of boat is it?” asked Zantheus. He had not seen one like it before. It was long and thin, and came to a point at both ends. It was about as wide as two people, and contained three benches, one at the front, middle and back.

“It’s a canoe,” said Cheros. “You power it with paddles. Quite a nimble vessel. My son and I make them and sell them up in Ubal.”

Zantheus asked some polite questions of the father and son about how they built the boats, receiving detailed enthusiastic answers. He was not remotely interested in any of this, but he stood there anyway, enduring it. What he was interested in was if he, Anthē, Tromo and Leukos would be able to sail the boat up the Nahar to Qereth, which was answered with an immediate yes. After quite a length of time the conversation eventually ran its course, and Cheros said “Come on lad, you’re Mum’s getting dinner ready.”

They went back into the house.

“Please, sit,” said Soteria. At the table were already sat Leukos, Tromo, Tektes and Katharē, who was putting the finishing touches to her painting. This latter pair were currently in the middle of an argument. Tektes had asked Katharē what she was painting. Katharē had looked down at the mess of orange, yellow, red, blue, green and purple she had amassed on her canvas and announced “Happiness.” Tektes was explaining how she could not possibly be painting happiness, seeing as it was “An abstract concept incapable of being authentically represented in a visual medium.

“As such,” he concluded, “you cannot paint happiness.”

“Yes you can,” said Katharē defiantly. “Look.” She pointed at her painting with her brush, adding another blob of blue to the happiness.

Tektes was frustrated. “Young lady, do you expect that anyone will be able to come along and look at your painting and say ‘Aha, that’s happiness!’?”

“Of course not, don’t be silly,” said Katharē.

“Oh, good,” said Tektes, relieved. He appeared to have gotten through.

“That’s my happiness,” Katharē went on. “I don’t know what your happiness looks like –probably a lot less happy– but mine looks like this.”

Before Tektes could dispute this, Soteria brought the first dish to the table and said “Clear that away now, Katharē, it’s time for dinner.”

Dinner was fish, held in reserve, caught in the river by Aggelos. Soon they were all gathered around the table filling up on it, chatting to one another and burping intermittently. Cheros’s family had quite an appetite between them, but they were easily matched by the hungry travellers. Leukos kept his writing under the table out of respect. When they were finished, and fully satisfied, they all thanked the woman heartily for preparing such a tasty meal.

“That’s alright,” said Soteria. “Just give me a little more notice next time...” She glanced at her husband, her eyes narrowing. “Only one small matter remains...”

“The washing up,” he said.

They laughed.

“There is one other small thing actually,” said Soteria. “We don’t have enough space to put all of you up.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Anthē. “We’re used to sleeping rough.”

“Actually,” said Zantheus, “I would like to be moving on.”

“What, already?” said Anthē.

“Yes,” he said bluntly. “We have lost a lot of time because of the bandits.” His desire to return to Awmeer had been back at the forefront of his mind for a while now.

“Can’t we just spend one night here, Zantheus?” moaned Anthē.

“No.”

For once she did not dare argue with him further. He had, after all, just rescued her from the clutches of a gang of bandits, almost single-handedly. She owed him her life.

“Very well,” said Cheros. “You may leave now, if you wish.”

Zantheus turned to Soteria. “You have treated us very kindly. Thank you again for the meal.”

They said goodbye to her, the children and Tektes.

“We’ll come down to the river and see you off,” said Tektes.

They went out to the workshop and Leukos handed the money for the boat over to Cheros clumsily. They lifted the canoe and carried it over to the river, pointing it down the bank, and the four companions got in.

“Go well!” shouted Cheros. He shoved the boat forwards, and they slid into the water with a splash. And once more the four were on their way, bound for Qereth, not knowing who or what they were going to meet on the way.