Armin of the Marsh. Aylwin Freeland, Wanderer.

In my earlier travels to the middle east I came across a great marshland. I was headed north to the city, having no way to know how many days it would take to go around the mashes I had no option but to cross it. The humidity stuck thickly to my long pants, thin with wear, and my only reaming piece of clothing. The mosquito filled air made breathing next to impossible. Great reed beds grew densely around the marsh. I hew a large growth of the reads and bound them together with a long thin rope from my small bag. Once the reads where made tight i used a few more to make a broom like paddle, loaded my make shift raft with my small bag and pushed off into this mysterious marshland. The mosquitoes and heat left me as i moved further into waters. The air became calm and warm filled with the noise of many birds feeding. The waters where brown with mud, but very deep, further than the length of my paddle. Great clumps of reads grew in a maze of water corridors. I was truly blessed to not have lost my compass with my shoes and shirt when i was robbed in the desert. I traveled for a week without meeting the edge of the marshland. Surviving on small fish i caught in a simple net i fashioned out of reads. I had to eat them raw, not wanting to risk fire surrounded by so much tall dry grass. The nights where cold and full of insects, my fresh water ran out quickly, so i slept to save my energy. A few days without water and my body became ill with hunger and thirst. I could no longer fish and found myself sleeping through entire days. I lost count of how many times the moon past the sky and all time drifted away with me. I woke one night from my thirst induced stupor not alone on my raft, but on a grass mat in a cool room. Someone spooned water into my mouth and whispered in an unusual dialect of Arabic i didn't understand. I fell asleep again, for how long i do not know. When i woke again the room was silent, i sat up and looked about me. A small coal lamp burned hanging from the roof. The room was made of woven reed mats and drift wood beams held the walls. A system of ropes made from young reeds held the place together with a hole in the roof that allowed in fresh air but not insects. A dark young man entered through a flap in a wall holding a large jug of water and a round platter of rice and cooked fish. He spoke broken English, with a heavy Arab accent, i was glad for the sound of his voice. His name was Armin, he was once a salt trader and spent many years in a city with his farther exporting salt to the Americas. As he watched me eat he tolled me much. I had been found in the woman's bath area. The elders of the tribe had condemned me to death for seeing the women without their dress and veils. Armin had spoke on my behalf to the elders, explaining that i was not in good health, and the women claimed I was asleep when I was found. The elders did not believe him, so i was brought before the council still unconscious where they examined me, and found me close to death. I was taken to Armin's hut, where his young daughter had tendered to me until i woke. When Armin found that death had left my side his daughter was sent back to live with the women, as tribal tradition forbid the contact of man and women outside of a marriage. Armin kept me in his hut for three days. He spoke to me of the tribe. They where a quiet people who wished to remain untouched by the war and greed of the city's. They all lived in separate huts, made from the reeds that hid them so well. They had been secluded for so long, they had managed to keep their own language. They ate mostly fish, birds and water vegetables, some growing their own rice. All food was communal, divided up under the watchful eyes of the elders. Armin was born of the tribe but followed his farther when he ran away to make his money. After his father died Armin returned to find his mother, having been made a husband by the elders he decided to remain. The elders feared the outside world more than death. I owed my life to Armin and my dark hair and sun burnt complexion. Had the elders found i was English i would have been killed on sight. He tolled me of their traditions and their land. He showed me many maps. I found i had been in their territory's before i had even entered the water. He tolled of how an English man had once saved his life, and so in me he was retuning the favor. On the third day Armin dressed me as an Arab trader and filled my bag with provisions and maps. He led me through the night till i reached the northern edge of the marsh waters. I feared for him, that he might be tried a traitor on my behalf. He took a short knife and made long thin cuts across his strong legs, and beat his bare back with a sharp piece of wood. "Go, I tell them you ran, i chased, we fight you win, no trouble, no trouble, go!" So off i went. His maps led me strait to a well used watering hole where i paid my way onto a camel caravan. I owe Armin my life in so many ways, i hope one day i too can return the favor.