Back to the Source - Part VII

Still in the cave

By Katarzyna PopielPublished 12 months ago • Updated 12 months ago • 5 min read

Back to the Source - Part VII

Photo by Shikhar Bhatnagar on Unsplash

This is part 7 of a longer story. If you would like to see what has already happened, here is the previous part:

https://shopping-feedback.today/fiction/back-to-the-source-part-vi%3C/em%3E%3C/a%3E%3Cem class="css-ak7tmt-Italic">

The newcomer removed his hood and facemask, revealing light brown skin, a thick mop of raven black hair and a small beard. Wrinkles around the eyes gave his face the look of perpetual amusement. He might have been forty, maybe slightly younger.

‘My apologies for this intrusion, gudulai! I’ve heard laughter and couldn’t deny myself the pleasure of good company. So sorry to be the bearer of bad news… but I would start barricading this entrance rather fast if I were you. Fine sand is a nuisance once it gets in your eyes.’

Both boys darted towards the entrance to the cave and looked outside. The stranger was right. Focused on their conversation, they paid no attention to other sounds, but the intensifying howl of the wind was unmistakable now. The air tasted of dust and made their skin tingle.

They worked quickly. The geologist’s tools came in handy. Darien used the drill to make holes above the entrance to the cave, then pushed hooks inside. One of the blankets was draped across the opening and secured in place with loose stones. More stones were brought from inside the cave. Zaric shoved all of the unpacked things back inside the saddlebags and the stranger helped him pile them at the entrance along with the saddles.

The wind was rapidly becoming stronger. By the time they finished their work, they had to shield their eyes and were spitting out sand that kept getting in their mouths.

Once the entrance was secured, they moved further into the cave in the darkness. They heard the gryplions shifting anxiously. One of them emitted a low growl.

‘Your animals can smell my mount on me. Sorry about that!’ The stranger sounded amused rather than sorry, which Zaric found strange. In the middle of the desert, a good mount was worth its worth in gems.

‘Won’t your mount be in danger in this weather? We could have brought it here had we known…’

‘No need to worry!’, the newcomer assured them. ‘She’ll be fine where she is.’

Zaric sniffed. There was a strange, faint smell to the man’s clothes, he couldn’t associate it with any specific animal though. He wished he could see more. Maybe Darien could…

‘We apologise for the lack of light,’ Darien spoke quietly. ‘We have a lamp but no oil.’

They heard the newcomer chuckle.

‘It so happens that I have oil but no lamp… Which means that all of us are in luck!’

Zaric heard Darien make his way slowly back to the entrance and rummage through the saddlebags. The muffled clink of metal told him that the search was successful.

When the lamp engulfed them in its flickering yellow light, Zaric noticed the neck of a lute sticking out of the newcomer’s backpack.

‘Are you a bard?’

The stranger smiled broadly.

‘How perceptive of you, young gudul! Indeed, this is my trade. Forgive me if I don’t sing tonight though, this weather doesn’t agree with me and my instrument doesn’t like the accompaniment of the wind.’

‘You must be travelling to the King’s Fortress?’, Darien asked.

‘Ah, that was indeed my plan… But it is in the nature of plans to change! Just like your plans to go south, which also had to change tonight. It is a rather unusual direction to take, I hope you don’t mind me mentioning it.’

The boys exchanged glances. Darien said casually:

‘We are… explorers.’

The bard raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, as if waiting to hear more. Feeling uneasy in this moment of silence, Zaric said:

‘We are on an expedition to discover the mouth of the Laar!’

The newcomer burst out with laughter. It was only after a little while that he noticed the boys’ perplexed expressions.

‘You are joking, aren’t you?,’ he asked incredulously. ‘Frankly, come up with a better lie because no one will believe this one…’

The boys looked at each other, unsure what to say. The man wiped tears of laughter from his eyes and leaned towards them, entirely serious all of a sudden.

‘Listen. I don’t know what foolish idea brought you here but I know you’re not serious. Have you heard about the previous expeditions sent to discover the mouth of the Laar, all of them composed of seasoned explorers and experienced fighters? Even I know that none of them have returned. You don’t have to be honest with me if you don’t want to. But I assure you, even if it may feel embarrassing, it’s better to go back to the Fortress now than lose your life!’

Darien looked up, suddenly cautious.

‘Why do you think we are from the Fortress?’

‘Where else could you live around here? It’s enough to look at you.’ The bard shook his head. ‘I knew there must be a good reason why the soldiers swarmed out of there this morning and I think I’ve just discovered it. Go back home, you two. It’s the best advice you can get.’

‘But we can’t go back!’, Zaric exclaimed.

‘Soldiers, you say?’ Darien fixed his gaze on the bard. ‘You’re quick to assume that they are looking for us.’

‘They are looking for a seventeen years’ old thief with copper hair, tall and slim, who stole two mounts and a royal official’s property.’ There was no trace of the previous ease in the man’s tone. His eyes narrowed and he continued in a low voice: ‘Just one thief, not two. But isn’t it a remarkable coincidence that you both fit this description perfectly?’

The stranger and Darien locked eyes and, for a long moment, the wind outside was the only sound Zaric could hear. He noticed that both Darien’s and the stranger’s right hands hovered close to their daggers. The boy gulped, frantically looking for something to say.

‘Have you heard about Yeef the Singer?,’ he blurted out.

The stranger tensed and his eyes narrowed down for a barely perceptible moment. He relaxed almost immediately and smiled tersely, tearing his gaze away from Darien.

‘Can’t say if I do…’ He sized up Zaric, his expression unreadable. ‘People’s names shouldn’t be thrown around too easily.’

Zaric bit his lips, unsure how to explain himself.

‘It’s just that he’s a bard too. I helped him out not so long ago.’

The stranger shifted into a more comfortable position. At last, his hand moved away from the dagger.

‘It must have been some help if he entrusted you with his name.’

Zaric shrugged.

‘He said I could mention it if I ever needed assistance.’

The bard stroked his beard and rested his chin on his hand. There was no trace of the previous flair and ease in his demeanour now. He sized the boys up thoughtfully.

‘I don’t know if I’m able to assist you,’ he said finally. ‘Not until you tell me the truth. There must be more to this story than thievery and a dumb excuse for going south.’

On to part 8:

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Fantasy Adventure

About the Creator

Katarzyna Popiel

A translator, a writer. Two languages to reconcile, two countries called home.

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Comments (2)

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Komal12 months ago
This part is fantastic! The tension, the vivid imagery of the sandstorm, and the suspense between Darien and the bard are masterfully done. The pacing feels spot on, with just enough mystery to keep readers hooked. Excited for the next part!
Marie381Uk 12 months ago
As usual amazing ☘️✍️🏆♦️♦️♦️♦️

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