Chapter 7: The Marshes

In the low places the air grew foul, and the stench seemed a living thing, as if the filth of the world had washed into the sloughs and marshes, and had taken root there. And the stench was not alone. Swarms of wetland insects, some of which they had never encountered before, plagued them to the point they were tempted to turn back. Doe had fashioned face coverings from the bark cloth, and they helped a little, but even these had to be wet, and that meant dipping them into the pools they passed. That brought its own little irritants, in the form of the water bugs and tiny leeches, which they had to be sure to pick off before donning the wet masks.

Toll had decided to cast his lot with Seth and this group, while the rest of those rescued with Leana followed after the survivors of the original group, hoping to rejoin them when they caught up with them. Doe might have had much to do with Toll’s decision, reflected Seth, but he welcomed the addition, as, obviously, did Doe. But the trek grew more difficult with each day they traveled, and now the marshes tested their resolve.

Still, they kept to Seth’s original course. He felt that the ground would certainly begin to rise soon, and they would climb out of the miasma that had surrounded them for the past several days.

It was a miserable group that stopped for the night on a low mound that seemed drier than the surrounding area. It was more open than the surrounding marshes, a rough circle, several hundreds of paces across. A few patches of brambles held the promise of ripe berries, and a small group of stunted trees was prominent in the center of it. The sun was low in the sky, and they agreed to camp there for the night. The three youngsters busied themselves, making a crude shelter that they hoped would stave off the worst of the night fliers.

Having seen no sign of any other intelligent life, be it drog, or otherwise, they had decided that it would be safe to kindle a smoky fire. They sat in the cloud of smoke, and it did keep the worst of the insects away. Then, depending on the growing darkness to continue concealing the smoke, they kindled a second smudge, and passed an uneventful, if not a restful, night in the company of the remaining hordes of flying things that could tolerate the smoke.

They set a watch, as was their custom, but nothing bothered them, although Tia said she felt as if something was watching her as she sat there by the fire. “I did not feel threatened,” she said, “just not alone.”

Seth and Toll were alarmed enough at this, that they searched the area at first light, finding only some old tracks that hinted that the place had been used for shelter in the past. How recently that was, they could not tell. Toll had asked, “Perhaps a wolf, Seth?”

“If so, a large one, my friend. Let us be glad we were not here to share its refuge.” He looked at Dann as he said this, and nodded towards one set of tracks apart from the rest. The two older hunters turned back toward their camp, but Dann lingered, and noted that one track that Seth had pointed out did seem fresher than the rest. Indeed, several blades of grass sprang back up as he studied them. Taking a cue from Seth, he said nothing, but stored the information in his memory.

There had been no discernible dawn in that miserable place, only a gradual lightening around them until they could see, through the mist, the individual plants and mounds of shrubbery surrounding them. At this first light, they arose to prepare to continue their seemingly endless trek through the muck.

Though Toll and Doe had acknowledged Seth’s right to lead, still they had questioned his judgement in this current direction. They repeated that question now.

“But Seth, perhaps if we turn to the north, to the direction the water flows from, we’ll reach higher ground sooner.”

“I know, Toll, and I would agree with you, but for the dreams I keep having. I feel that we need to keep on in this direction for another few marches. I cannot tell you exactly why this is so, but I ask you to bear with me a little longer.”

Doe broke in, “What are these dreams, Seth? None of the rest of us have had such dreams, and even if we had, I am not sure we should be following dreams, anyway.”

Toll, unused to hearing a woman question a hunter, let alone an acknowledged leader, put his hand on her arm as if to stop her, but Seth interjected. “No Toll, let it be. Let her speak. She has a right to question. Things are different now, and we are no longer in the Group Home. Can you not feel that?”

He then addressed Doe directly, another change from custom, “You have not had the dreams, and felt something pulling us in the direction we travel in now?” He looked at Toll, then the others, “Have you?” Turning back to Toll, he continued, “I have sensed something drawing us, as if toward something we need to do.”

“No, Seth, I have not,” said Toll, “but I believe you if you say you have. I feel a danger here, though, one that we have not faced before. The land feels empty, like something has driven out all that is wholesome, and the sooner we come to higher ground, the better I will like it.”

“I can agree with that,” said Leana, “but as none of us can tell for sure how much farther that will be, or in what direction we will find it, I would rather follow Seth.” She looked at her husband, “I, too, have had dreams, and I feel their pull strongly in the direction we have traveled.”

Dann nodding assent, said, “I have had no dreams, but I feel that we need to keep this direction. We have come too far to go back now, and as we do not know the danger that lies in either way, we might as well keep going.”