45. The Fruit of the Knowing Tree
“From the frothing talons of tempest a single craft emerged – broken but afloat – drifting wearily to safe harbour.”
THE TWO GIANT TREES towered above the others, their arms outstretched as though claiming the ancient forest as their own. But it was not only their size that made these mighty oaks so magical, nor their drapery of white where the other trees wore thin cloaks of orange and brown leaves. What made them wondrous was their slow graceful motion. Like commanders inspecting their troops they took a stately path between the lesser trees, sweeping this way and that through the vast skeletal canopy.
And so it was that as the forest chattered and rustled and chirped its welcome, the great masts of the Windrush brought it to the end of its long journey.
The captain heaved at the wheel and the battered old ship turned another bend in the river. He brushed back his ragged mop of blond curls and peered through the pockets of evening mist. He frowned and blinked.
“This is it …” he muttered, raising his head to look for his companions. “This is it!”
Simia was sitting with her feet dangling over the side of the ship and did not look up.
“You said that three bends ago, Ash,” she grumbled, throwing a pebble into the river. “And two bends before that.”
“But it really is this time, I’m sure of it! Get Naeo … or Sylas … either – both of them!”
“Aye, aye, Cap’n …” grumbled Simia, giving him a wilting salute.
She made her way to the nearest hatch and disappeared below. Moments later her shock of red hair reappeared above deck and behind her another girl stepped into view. She looked about the same age as Simia but was taller and climbed the ladder lightly, with a longer, more graceful step. Her blonde hair was drawn back and held in place by a criss-cross of sticks, revealing a narrow neck and delicate features. As she stepped on to the deck, she fixed Ash with her piercing blue eyes.
He grinned and stepped down from the helm. “Naeo, look – look at the trees!” he exclaimed, striding past them both to the bow of the ship. “There’s something about them – this has to be it!”
Simia and Naeo walked up and stood at his shoulders, staring out at the forest. Birds flitted from branch to branch as the aged trees hung over the swirling waters, dropping the occasional long-dead leaf. Above,