Nomvula

19 - Silt

A strong rain season had filled the Wayfarer to the brim, and the East Storm sat high on the water. The river was so wide that an arrow shot from one bank wouldn't make it a fifth of the way before it disappeared into a pale blue mirror. Nomvula leaned on the railings, and pointed to the nine other ships in view.

"The three on that end are the fastest, used mostly for patrol and pursuit," she explained to the small party on the deck. "Those two skiffs — nimble enough to chase a shark through a canyon."

Dumani laughed. "A fisher's armada, Ndlovu must tremble at the sight."

"Ndlovu doesn't tremble," Nomvula said, "but he'd need gills to sneak past all three of our blockades."

That brought a smile to the East Storm's captain, who oversaw five blockades. Nomvula made a quiet note to keep the rest a secret from him too.

"Ndlovu's land force outnumbers yours twice over," Dumani said. "You've bet everything on controlling the Wayfarer."

If I had everything I'd never gamble.

"Only it's surface, General. Ndlovu's hoards are free to march on the riverbed."

"The Great Elephant has ships of his own, doesn't he?"

Nomvula turned away from the river's glare. "Boats. Ndlovu has boats, not ships, and every time he puts one on the water, our aim improves."

"There's a rumour that your archers are launching some interesting arrows..."

"If they could fit in a quiver, we'd have called them arrows."

Dumani cut a sharp-toothed smile. "For someone so proud of their cowardice, you do look proud of your military."

"I don't seek conflict," Nomvula said seriously.

"None of us do, Queen, not even the gods of war." He spoke quietly, almost sincerely. "You and I, we're called to seek resolutions. When times are good, we're an eyesore."

"Times were good until a day ago, General."

"Now look at you," he pressed on, "walking with purpose, dressed like the world needs conquering again."

"The world needs fewer conquerors, not more."

"Then cut them in half instead of calling them for lunch," Dumani said gravely. "Because if I were Ndlovu, I'd send your invitation back with most of its messenger."

Nomvula looked over the rest of the party on deck, all waiting at a respectful distance away.  Jabu kept an eye on the planks between his feet, and three Inner Plains guards kept an eye on him.

"How fortunate, then, that some of us don't punish messengers," Nomvula said.

A keen eye in the watchtower blew a horn, and half the East Storm crew disappeared below deck. The other half took position along a row of crossbows bolted to the floor.

Nomvula faced the Elephant Plains. "That'll either be Ndlovu or most of my messenger."

It was an army.

Ndlovu's soldiers swarmed the hillside, appearing almost out of nowhere. Their shields were thick hide painted with ochre; sunlight glinted on the face of a thousand spears. It was a testament to their training that they crept all that way without being detected.

In a recurring nightmare, they had the ships to make it count.

"Captain, send a raft out to meet them," Nomvula said. The order rolled off her tongue. "One rower, no weapons, as promised." She spotted Ndlovu along the bank, a towering figure on the front line. "If they try any tricks... well, General Dumani wants to know what makes the new arrows so interesting."