Eden Forest (Part one of the Saskia Trilogy) (21 page)

into. It sounded like a cult.

“Because they are a very old tribe that like to be left alone.”

Images of warriors living in small huts with different coloured

paints on their faces come to mind, but soon I will find out.

Our group of eleven sets off through the desert towards

Aquaterra.

Chapter Thirteen

Saskia

(Sarajane)

F
rom the distance I can get a clear picture of Aquaterra. It

is surrounded from the west and south by water the smell

of seawater is refreshing after the heat of the desert. The

desert surrounds the rest of the landscape. Tall wooden walls

rise into the air for miles around the settlement. A large portion

of the wall starts to descend slowly like a drawbridge. They

must have seen us coming.

As we get closer I notice small insets cut into the wall that

have a slot cut out of them with enough space to fire an arrow

or to see people approaching. When the drawbridge hits the

sand, it sends a cloud racing towards us. I pull my hood up and

around my mouth and half close my lids to shield them from

the sand. As we cross the drawbridge, I look behind me as it

rises. It is raised by six enormous men on either side, pulling

a heavy steel chain that is encircled through hooks attached to

the wall. Sweat laces their bodies from the tremendous weight

of the bridge.

We move slower once we’re safely in Aquaterra, but the

settlement looks like little dots in the distance. As we get closer,

the settlement starts to take shape and the array of bright colours

is heaven to my eyes. Lime greens, cerise pinks, turquoise blues,

yellows, oranges, reds. All the women and children are dressed

in striking colours, and their laughter and chatter matches what

they wear.

The women all seem to be very petite with long brown

hair and chocolate eyes, but the tribesmen are huge. They’re

enormously built; it is clear to see as they only seem to wear

white, black or brown trousers and no tops. They all carry

similar features to the women, the long dark hair and brown

eyes. It’s intimidating at first glance, but their smiling faces put

me right back at ease.

We get off the horses and bring them to the troughs where

they gulp down water. My legs feel stiff after the long ride. I

shake them out to loosen them up.

“Trying to fit in with the natives?” Kiar asks, smirking.

“Ha, ha, you’re just hilarious.”

“Yes, I think I am a pretty funny guy.” I nudge him playfully.

His big brown eyes and kind heart remind me of Josh so much

my heart gives a little squeeze at the thought of him. I push it

away, knowing it will drive me crazy. “Sarajane?” Kiar gives me

a questioning look.

“I’m fine, before you ask.”

I trail behind everyone else, taking in the settlement. The huts

are built in a full circle with what looks like bamboo branches

that frame the walls and roof. A pipe sticks out of the roof

that releases smoke; wooden shutters are open in the huts like

windows that let the light in. A large well is right in the middle

where wooden buckets lay against it, not in use. It looks like

everything is made from the same wood, giving it a magical

appeal. The huts are all different sizes, some the size of a room,

others as big as a house, and there are two at the beach’s edge

that are the size of three houses.

Large towers stand on the beach a mile or two apart. They

run the full stretch of the beach. I shield my eyes from the sun

to take a look at the towers. A man is perched on the top, sitting

with his legs crisscrossed. He looks like he’s mediating. A roof

covers his head, but there are no walls surrounding him.

“Sarajane.” The group has moved on, but Kiar has waited

for me.

“Sorry.” I hurry along, catching up with the rest. The people

have all stopped what they are doing and are staring at us.

“This place is amazing,” I say.

“I agree with you. It is not what I was expecting,” Kiar

responds.

A tall man with old features embraces Mirium like an old

friend would. A smile that’s genuine is spread across his face.

“Musa,” Mirium says fondly while embracing him. This

must be the tribe’s leader.

Musa is dressed in a long white tunic to his knees and sandals

cover his feet. There are tattoos covering both sides of his face.

Small circles and lines cover the corner of his eyes. His eyes

sweep over our group and pause on me briefly, but I’m hiding

in the back.

“Greetings, friends of Mirium’s are friends of mine. Your

huts have been prepared.” A lady walks beside Musa with a shy

smile on her face. They must be related. Her face is designed just

like his, except for the dots and lines around the eyes. “This is

Ndee and she shall show you to your huts.”

Ndee bows, still smiling. Everyone else is watching us as if

we’re from another planet. Well, I suppose I am. We break up

as we are taken to our huts. I watch as Morrick, Mirium and

Musa walk towards one of the large wooden structures farther

out.

Ndee places one arm above the other at chest level and bows.

“Princess.” She’s practically beaming. I can’t muster up too

much enthusiasm towards her, as I am starving and really want

a bath and change of clothes.

I try to copy her bow. “Ndee.”

Someone coughs behind me. I turn to Alana. “She only bows

to you, Sarajane. Do you want me to stay with you?”

I ignore her comment about not to bow to Ndee. “Ndee, this

is my personal guard, Alana.” The two ladies acknowledge each

other. “And you have the day off.” I give her a smile and follow

Ndee into the hut.

The walls are covered in a red-brown clay just like plaster,

only it isn’t smooth, but it adds character to the charming hut.

All the furniture is made of bamboo wood, just like the hut.

On the table sits a large pottery bowl that holds lots of fruit.

Ndee opens a door I hadn’t noticed. I follow her into the room.

The bedroom holds a bed and a large wooden tub that has taps

running to it.

“Is that running water?” I ask Ndee with excitement.

“Yes, princess, and we have hot water,” she says proudly.

I turn the tap on, not sure what to expect, and water pours

into the tub. I dip my finger under the water. It’s warm.

Ndee joins me and looks a little embarrassed. “Sorry, the

kilns have only been burning for the last hour. That’s how we

heat the water.”

I hug her with pure joy and start stripping off my clothes as

the bath fills up. “No, Ndee, this is heaven.”

She scurries across the room and closes the wooden shutters

as I climb into the bath. She lights several candles around the

room.

“Candles?”

She smiles. “We make our own, princess. Maybe tomorrow

you would like to see how they are made?”

I lie back in the water; every part of me relaxes. “That sounds

great, Ndee.”

As I soak, Ndee moves around the room, picking up my

clothes, and then she leaves. I just lie there enjoying the peace

and quiet. When I am wrinkly and the water is nearly cold, I

begrudgingly step out and dry myself off with a really fluffy

towel. I wrap it around my body and examine my bed. The

frame is made of bamboo and the mattress could only be

described as a beanbag. A large square one. I let my hand sink

into it; it’s really soft.

“That is animal skin stuffed with feathers,” Ndee says,

making me jump.

“Animal skin?”

She giggles. “Yes, but it is cleaned and stitched together

and stuffed with feathers.” Loads of coloured material is

draped across her arm. She raises them slightly. “Your clothes,

princess.” Two other women enter then, making me wrap my

towel tighter around my body. “This is Ola and Dene.” I smile

at the two happy women. “They will help get you dressed.” I

don’t get to respond. They start evaluating and discussing what

colour would best suit me.

The women giggle as they wrap me in their own custom

dress. They decide on a lime green material that they wrap

around my body, covering one shoulder and leaving the other

bare. They comb my hair out and weave flowers into the

cascade of curls.

All the ladies study me. My eyes seem unusual to them as

they all have brown eyes, and my skin looks pale in comparison

to theirs. When I’m complete, Ola and Dene bow and leave,

leaving Ndee and me alone.

“The celebration will be soon, but first Musa requests your

company.” Ndee leads me through the settlement. There must be

a few hundred people living here. A lot of the women are getting

ready for the celebration. The excited chatter sounds everywhere.

The tall towers along the beach catch my attention. Once again I

glance up; there are still men sitting at the top of them.

“What are they doing?” I ask Ndee.

“They are controlling the waves so we don’t get flooded and

for the water mill that helps us generate electricity.”

I look at Ndee in surprise. “Electricity?”

She gives me a proud smile. “Yes, but it is only used in the

main buildings. Follow me.” She continues towards one of the

larger wooden structures. “You will see,” she says as she opens

the door.

The inside is very like my own hut, wooden floors, brown

plaster on the walls, only on a much bigger scale. The room

must be used for meetings, as a large table is placed in the

centre. Its surface is covered in maps. I take a quick peek at the

maps as I follow Ndee and can see they are of Saskia. It’s a lot

bigger than I initially thought.

When we reach the back of the room, large red curtains

conceal another area where Musa is. The air in the room is

filled with incense. I’m not entirely sure what I smell, but it’s

familiar. Musa is seated on a lavish rug on the ground. Material

of all bright colours hangs from the ceiling and is pinned to the

walls. The centrepiece in the ceiling is a light, electricity. Pottery

is scattered around the small room.

Musa smiles when I enter. “Princess Sarajane, please sit.”

I sit on a vacant rug across from him and Ndee leaves. “Musa,

my room is lovely.” I’m not entirely sure how to address him or

what to say.

“I am glad you like it, princess.” Musa is only wearing

trousers. Well, they look more like white linen pyjama bottoms.

His chest is bare and covered in tattoos and old scars crisscross

his chest. There are so many the further I inspect them. “Saskia

wasn’t always this peaceful,” Musa says. Then his eyebrows

crease. “I hope we will see peace for a long time.”

I feel embarrassed I made it so noticeable, staring at his scars.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to gawk.”

He gives a smile. “You were just curious and you have every

right to be; this is your history also.”

Guilt wells up inside me. I don’t belong here. I never fought

for it. I don’t have as much as a scratch, yet this man destroyed

in scars feels as if I have as much right as him.

“We are having the celebration tonight in honour of our

guests, and as part of our tribe, we each receive a tattoo that