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Under Tarkyn’s direction, Sasha’s reconnaissance group made their way downriver through the mess left by the flood until they reached The Woodland Rover. They ducked in under the branches that were disguising it and walked to the portside, peering out through the foliage at the river and the far bank.
“You know,” said Tarkyn, looking around at the mass of branches artfully strewn over the sides and superstructure of the boat, “I think it will be easier to launch ourselves from the bank rather than from here. We might snag ourselves on these branches. But we need a long rope, maybe two knotted together, for me to take across to the other side when we go.”
“I’ll sort that out,” said Rainstorm, “and make sure the other end is secured to the boat. You go on ahead and I’ll join you in a m
