The little boat hurtled toward the edge of the waterfall. Sabit plunged her branch into the river, but the bottom was too deep for it to find purchase. Allamu worked his makeshift paddle with all his might. Qays and Qaansoole leaned over the sides of the boat, clawing at the water with stark determination.
The waterfall loomed closer.
Sabit lifted her branch again to seek some solid surface to push off of. Something tugged, snagging on a poorly-cut offshoot. It felt thin and taut. Could it be a rope beneath the water, pulled taut in the current? It slipped off Sabit’s branch moments before she could bring it to the surface.
The roar of the waterfall was now too loud for speech. Sabit thrust the far end of her branch toward Qaansoole. The archer grabbed it. Holding tight to the branch, Sabit dove into the raging river.
The spear woman disappeared into the dark, choppy water. Moments passed. Allamu called out for her. The sound of the falls was deafening.
The branch went taut in Qaansoole’s grasp. The archer braced herself against the sides of the boat as it tipped sharply–the pole pulling it upstream while the current pushed it toward certain doom.
Sabit emerged from the water upstream. She held the branch in one hand, a thick rope in the other. Together, the crew pulled the little boat upstream. The rope led them to a shadowed crevice behind a large boulder, perfectly concealed from downstream travelers.
On the muddy ground within the crevice lay the bandits’ rough raft.
Wayfarings of Sabit: Pursuit is copyright (c) 2017 by Michael S. Miller. All rights reserved. New chapters post every weekday. You can support this and other stories on Patreon: https://patreon.com/michaelsmiller or http://ipressgames.com/fiction/