Around them the river moved by, or maybe the river stayed still and only they moved, who could tell? They were headed upstream, but the current was not at all strong. Zantheus sat in the front of the boat, propelling it forwards like a man possessed, plunging his single oar into the water over and over, switching sides when he needed to level out their trajectory. Anthē occasionally tried to join in with her own oar, but she could not keep up with Zantheus and soon became tired, such was the determination with which he drove them up the river. It was clear to her that he was in a bad mood. Although he did talk to her sometimes, it was usually just to comment on the twists and turns in the river, and he still refused to say anything to Leukos. She could understand that –it had been a terrible experience for all of them, being captured by the bandits– but she wished he would forgive Leukos for abandoning them. It would make the last part of their journey far more easy and enjoyable if he did. There was an invisible barrier between the two of them. They sat in opposite ends of the boat, Zantheus in the front, with Leukos in the back, writing. She was in the middle with Tromo, who seemed his usual, daydreamy self. He whiled away the hours by playing with his hand in the river, sticking his hand into the water and trying out different shapes to see what patterns he could make as it glided by.

When night fell on their first day on the river, the day they got the boat from Cheros, Zantheus took some persuading before he would agree that it could be sensible to stop for the night in order to sleep. He was so consumed by his desire to get to Qereth, knowing how close he now was, that it seemed that he might go on paddling all night. But eventually, after some persistent petitioning from Anthē, he conceded that it might be a good idea to stop in order to get some rest, probably because his own arms had finally started to tire. By this point it was totally dark and Tromo had fallen asleep in Anthē’s lap. Zantheus steered the boat into the bank, then hopped out with the rope fastened to its front, using the mallet and steak that Cheros had given him as something to which he could moor it. This procedure was repeated on subsequent nights, and Zantheus would always wait until Anthē had asked him at least twice before he decided to stop the boat and allow them to rest. They slept, as ever, wrapped in their cloaks, with Tromo having both his and Zantheus’s. They were still in the field country, but crops were appearing more and more regularly and they often glimpsed farm houses in the distance. The river came to be dotted with little woods that sometimes crept up to its banks.

One day, the current became a lot stronger and Zantheus felt not only as if he were paddling upstream but uphill. Anthē joined in to help as best she could, and Tromo made an oar with his hand, making his own contribution. Zantheus knew they must be nearing Ubal. Sure enough, he was thrilled when after a while he noticed another adjacent river making its way through the fields, running nearly parallel to their own.

“We are coming to the place where the four rivers meet,” said Leukos.

Zantheus did not say anything. He was still not talking to Leukos.

“We should stop here to stock up on food,” said Anthē. Cheros had helped them out in that area a little, but their supplies would not last forever. They had lost all of their utensils and their own stock of food reserves when they had been attacked by the bandits. Soon they were sailing into Ubal. Other boats appeared on the parallel river, some little skiffs, some larger and longer –though strangely they seemed to have been the only people coming in on their particular river. Apparently they were coming in on one of the less popular routes into Ubal. The settlement itself was extremely busy. It reminded Anthē of Ir –it was as if someone had plonked a trading town smack in the middle of the fields. It was very similar in its architecture, the only differences being the surroundings and the fact that it had rivers running through it. Over these had been built bridges, often relatively ornate affairs, though ruined by graffiti and bird droppings. Tromo watched enviously as children ran and played on them, swinging over the sides, even boarding some of the smaller ships before hopping off again cheekily. Adults ignored them, or told them off. The water traffic became progressively busier as they neared the centre of the town, where the four rivers converged into one. They were coming in on the tributary that was southernmost but one, which Cheros had told them was called ‘Hiddekel’, now clogged with floating punts ferrying their passengers from one end of the town to the other. Zantheus found a place to moor and, navigating carefully, brought their little boat to a halt amidst the bustle of activity.

Anthē acted quickly. “Right,” she said. “Zantheus and I will go and stock up. We shouldn’t need too much stuff –we must be pretty close by now, right, Leukos?”

“Yes,” said Leukos. “A few more days sailing and we shall arrive in Qereth.” He gave her some money. She didn’t even bother to ask where he had got it from; she knew it would be a useless question.

“Ok Tromo,” said Anthē, “be a good boy and wait here with Leukos. We’ll be back in a minute or two.”

Tromo nodded.

Zantheus considered taking the oars with him, but he thought better of it. Instead, he said darkly “Make sure you do not sail away without us,” to Leukos and climbed out.

As they walked off together, Anthē whispered “You mustn’t say things like that, Zantheus. You can’t be angry with Leukos forever.”

“Why not?” said Zantheus. “He abandoned us, Anthē. Twice. He left us all alone when we were in trouble.”

“You don’t know that. He said he was sleeping.”

“Sleeping? Have you ever seen him asleep?”

“Well, no... But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t sleep. Everyone needs to sleep.”

“Well, even if he was alseep, I would have woken him up. I shouted as loud as I could when I had taken care of that bandit. I looked for him in the morning as well, and he was nowhere to be found.”

“Well, that doesn’t mean he ‘abandoned’ us, does it?”

“I think it does.”

“Well, maybe you should just forgive him anyway.”

“Why? Why should I, Anthē? It is not even the first time that—”

“Now wait, we don’t know that he abandoned us in Choresh either. We lost sight of him; it could just as well have been an accident.”

“An accident waiting to happen.”

“Don’t you remember the state he was in when we found him?”

“Yes, and you were the one who insisted that he was speaking sense!”

They continued their debate as they ranged amongst the merchants of chaotic Ubal, selecting food for the final leg of their long trip. By the time Zantheus was loaded with bread, cheese, apples, beans, potatoes, rice and, luxury of luxuries, a dead chicken, it was still going. It had not even finished by the time they got back to the boat, and Zantheus had acquired a shiny new saucepan and some bowls. But they put their conversation on hold so as not to say anything that might offend Leukos. As they set out again at last on the river Nahar proper, Anthē noticed something.

“Leukos, there aren’t many other boats heading this way, are there?”

“No,” said Leukos. “Qereth does not really do any business by boat with Ubal.”

“Why not?”

“Well, in older days it used to be an extremely good route for aggressors to invade by,” Leukos told her. “When the city walls were finished, they took this into consideration. Now there is an impenetrable grate at the place where the river flows out of the city, which only lets the water through. And in any case, the current is very strong there, only the largest vessels can make it all the way up. ”

Zantheus was surprised by this news, but not enough for him to break his silence towards Leukos. He remained as mute as Tromo while, slowly, they left Ubal behind and continued through Sadeh.

After a while Anthē realised what had surprised him as well, however, and voiced his concern for him.

“Um, Leukos, if only the biggest vessels can get that far, how are we going to get in?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” said Leukos calmly. “There is a turn in the river I know, where we can stop, very close to Qereth. From there it will only be a short walk to the South Gate.”

Zantheus took secret comfort in this. He enjoyed just hearing words like “South Gate.” He hoped Leukos what Leukos was saying was right. It would probably be quite hard for him to bungle details about the city, he thought.

That night it took him a particularly long time before he stopped the boat so that they could rest. This time even Anthē had fallen asleep, huddled up with Tromo in the back.

“Oh,” she exclaimed with a start when he woke her. She got up, still half asleep, took Zantheus’s hand as he helped her disembark, strode a few paces inland and then lay back down, going back to sleep immediately...