***Ch-49:

Mannat lay in the back of Kaju’s cart. An arm under his head, another stretched up and out of his sight, a silver coin dangling between his fingers. One leg bent and the other crossed over the knee. A satchel full of dazzling silver coins lay on his chest and an apple-red sky reflected in his green eyes. There was a sense of tiredness on his washed clean face that was difficult to explain without talking about his dirty clothes, the smell of which was musty in the winter wind.

He was not alone.

Pandit sat perpendicular to Mannat, his back resting against the cart’s offside wall. There were complicated emotions in his eyes, which were staring at the coin between Mannat’s fingers. His lips twitched every so often at the sight, bound by reason only he could tell. Bandaged arms rested on his knees, empty hands had nothing to hold.

His machete was gone. Another one had bitten the bitter poison and crumbled into dust.

Pandit’s mood was sullen. Not because of his missing weapon or broken ribs, but because another girl had rejected him. Morni, the sarpanch’s daughter had charms, elegance, beauty, and a husband in the planning. She had the full package and no place for him around, which was honestly a damn shame.

Kaju was driving them back in his cart. He had suffered no less than the two boys. Still, he insisted to take them back since he was the one who had brought them to danger in the first place. He even wanted to make it up to their parents, a kind gesture, which Pandit quickly refused with a snort.

Where would the two have the face to meet their parents in their condition? The two were planning to hide in the clearing for a few days until their injuries had healed. How could they let their parents figure out what they were doing? Trust was one thing. There was no way Gande or Raesh would have let them run around in the forest after learning about their happy deeds. Heck, Pandit was sure his parents would not even allow him to leave the village if they ever found out about it.

Kaju understood their reason and gave up in the end, calling it a situation in progression.

“What are you thinking about?” Pandit finally couldn’t take it anymore and ask out.  
Mannat shook his head. “Nothing much. What about you,”
“I’m thinking about my weapons and how unlucky they are. This one was barely a month old and now it's rust. Could your magic really not fix it or were you being lazy? I liked the weight of it, you know.”
“I’ll make you a new one,” Mannat grabbed the coin and looked at Pandit adding, “free of charge,”
“No thanks. I’ll buy one from you. You can take the fee out from my part of the cut.”
“Then you owe me twenty-five gold coins,” Mannat joked which was actually funny.
“What for?” Pandit said with a frown on his face.
“For saving your life,”
Pandit snorted. “Then you owe me four times that amount.”
Mannat fell into silence before nodding. “I guess I do,” he said. “Then I’ll be in your debt. I hope this pay for the day’s interest.”

Mannat tossed the gold coin he had been playing with to Pandit. Who fearfully caught it like it was a hot potato and quickly threw it back shrieking, “I don’t want your money, damn it!”
 
Mannat caught the coin and clicked his tongue. “I suffered another failure. I guess I’ll never be able to pay you back for being my friend.”
Pandit’s eyes open wide, mischief brewing in his pupils. “Actually there is a way,”

Mannat looked at him in interest, gesturing for the boy to continue with his chin.

 “Give me Sharmilla and we are considered even.”

Mannat’s face fell.

Pandit saw the disgust in his friend’s eyes and happily ignored it. Like hell, he cared about it.  The fledgling hunter then fired a volley of sarcastic words at his friend, each one sharper than the previous one.

“It’s not like the old man will let you marry her.” The words instantly sobered Mannat. Pandit continued unabated. “And who knows when, and if, you will ever fulfill the Witch’s tasks. So let me have her. I promise to take good care--”

Pandit had barely finished his sentence when a screaming jet of mana shot past his head. He clambered up with his back on the side, shocked eyes filled with grievance.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“No,” Mannat said raising another palm against Pandit. “I’m not trying to kill you. I promise. I’m only nipping a weed in the bud.”

Mannat shot another mana bullet at his friend's face. Of course, the bullet barely contained any mana. It would have shocked Pandit at most.
How could Pandit understand the technicalities of a mana-based skill? All he knew was that his friend had gone crazy and was trying to kill him.

“Mother fucker! I jump in front of you whenever you are in danger and this is how you repay me?” Pandit shouted and they both rolled in the back of the cart screaming and shouting, hurling insults, hurting eachother by pressing their bruises.

“Hey, hey, will you both settle down or not? You are going to overturn the cart!” Kaju shouted but it was for naught.

Mannat and Pandit went off screaming in agony, cursing eachother, as the gold coin rolled around in the cart with them. Split between whom to choose, the coin rolled in the cart with the boys until they stopped acting like children, allowing it to decide a winner. Well, it rolled for one last time and ended up stuck in one of the cracks in the floorboards, announcing a draw between the two.

The two boys eventually lay in the cart, both laboriously breathing, sweating beady drops from their faces and steamy breaths into the air. Mannat lay on his belly with his face plastered against the floor. Pandit lay next to him on his back, knees buckled, one hand by his side, the other covering his eyes. It was impossible to discern whether it was sweat dripping from the cracks of his eyes or tears.

“I’m going to ask Sharmilla’s hand from her old man after we get back,” Mannat said resolutely. “And I need you to come with me.”

He had made up his mind. No more hesitations. They were young, but life was too onerous… unreasonable. There was no knowing when the clouds might burst over their heads and the unfavorable torrent of evil might tear them apart. The monsters taught him that. Life was too short to have everything go your way. Sometimes it’s better to just go for it and face the consequences than regret not doing it.

Pandit released a sigh. He removed his arms away from his face and looked at Mannat. “What will you do if the old man doesn’t agree?”
Mannat also turned to him. “That’s why I want you there. So you can stand in the line with his anger while I elope with Sharmilla.”

Kaju’s ears twitched but he didn’t dare make a comment. He was just a passerby. He was a stranger. This thing had nothing to do with him. He was not going to get his butt in this mess and get his crack sewed shut for nothing.

Pandit started laughing and Mannat joined him.

“Deal?” Mannat raised a hand and Pandit clamped it hard like a vice.
“Deal,”

Kaju was driving upfront shaking his head remembering his youth, the golden days of his life, the spark that couldn’t turn into fire, the women who were cold and snappy as the bare back of a horse. Really, it was good to be young.

The boys sat back in the cart once their breaths had settled and minds calmed. They had many topics of conversation but none that suited the situation. Irritated by the sudden quiet, Pandit opted to look outside for entertainment and he found Kaju not too far away and a perfect target for his thoughts. Mannat was too monotonous for his taste.  

“Kaju,” Pandit called. “You have tried hard to make me join the army but you never told me anything about the army life. What is it like? Is it dangerous? Is it easy?”
“Dangerous?” Kaju scoffed at the mere idea of it. He would have introduced the army life as such if he hadn’t seen the two of them acting like land gods in his backyard. He was old and crafty he knew how to package a deal.

“Rigorous. That’s one way of describing it. But you can also call it boring if you compare it to today’s excitement.”
“How come? Aren’t there wars to fend for, borders to defend, and bandits to kill?”
“There is that,” Kaju didn’t deny it. “But how many bandits do you think there are in our region? Border skirmishes are even rarer. And do you think it is easy for kingdoms to go to war against eachother?”
“Then what does the army do?”

Mannat’s ears perked up at the question.

“Armies--” Kaju took his sweet moment to gather his thoughts before continuing. “--are mostly bargain chips that the noble use to attain more resources from the empire. That’s what the armies are basically for. They are like the sheathed sword hanging from a captain’s waist. Only fools would dare go against someone who wields such strength and power?”

“You make it sound like the army is not a concentration camp of a region's most accomplished warriors, but an all-you-can-eat buffet. Why do you want me to become a soldier when you have such a low opinion of the job?”

“Because it’s safe,” Kaju said. He pulled the reins and the cart slowed to a crawl. He looked back at the lad who looked stronger than the horse that pulled the cart. Staring at the boy he continued, “Well, for the most part anyway. In the right place with enough recommendations, it is possible for one to get through life as a soldier without ever needing to lift a sword, to kill another. One will be at most troubled to handle some ruffians creating chaos in a bar or a customer who refuses to pay the bill.”

“Then what’s the worst that can happen to a soldier?” Mannat said, crystal green eyes waiting for an answer.

Kaju glanced at the handsome boy, his eyebrows rising in remembrance of atrocities he wouldn’t speak of. Things so vile and obnoxious the mere mention of which could blow off a candle flame, turn a red heart black, or break a shallow-minded person into two. Even though asked about something so onerous, Kaju didn’t hide the truth from the two boys.

“You can be sent to the southern border,” Kaju murmured gravely. “That’s the hell hole. If you ever find that the village is too small to contain your fire, go anywhere but, stay away from the south. Those who make it back from there have the strength to leave their name in the annals of history, but for everyone who returns from the south, there are thousands more who don’t. So don’t think about that place as a shortcut to promotion. The soldiers call it the abyss. No matter how many corpses you throw in it its appetite never fills up.”

The glint in Kaju's eyes and the madness of his words made Pandit decide to stay away from the south. Mannat however remembered the things Kuber had told him about the region. His father’s friend from the blacksmithing guild had called south an opportunity studded with danger. Considering how silent Raesh had grown at the mention of it, Kuber must have been covering the rotten in a layer of gold to save a child’s mind from wandering.

Kaju saw Pandit satisfied and turned around to drive the cart. He whipped the reins on the horse's back and the cart started moving. The wheels had barely completed a rotation when another youthful voice arose behind him, asking another question. One that he didn’t expect to come from the two boys who had never seen the world.

“Is it true that the people from the south are demons who sell their children as slaves?” Mannat asked, unable to hold back his curiosity. He wanted to know if there was any truth in Kuber’s lies.

“Well,” Kaju exhaled. “I can’t say whether it’s true or false, but I do know that there are many southern slaves around the empire. Especially young girls,”
“Why is that?”
“Because we are not compatible with eachother,”
“What does that mean?” Asked Pandit learning they were talking about girls.
“It means,” Kaju paused, wondering how he should tell them about it, only to give up resistance. “Well, we can’t have children with them. That’s why most cheap brothels are filled with southern women. They are robust, and grandiose to boot. The incompatibility issue is really a kick up the notch for their kind.”
“What does that sound like they aren’t the same people as us?”
“Because they aren’t.” Kaju sounded very sure about it, which was surprising to the boys.
Kaju looked back, his eyes shining. “Have you heard about the story of demons war?”

Pandit was apologetic.

Mannat sat dismayed; his ears twitching. This was the third time someone had mentioned the so-called demons war. The first time he had come across the war in an old book in the Witch’s cottage. Then the count's right-hand man, Moore, had asked him a related question. What he had read was a transcript that talked about how the town’s sky-piercing outer wall was an artifact of the lost age when demons walked rampart on the ground. He had no idea what the demons had to do with South.

Anyway, this was conversation was turning interesting by the second.

“Did you read about it?”
“Read about it?” Kaju burst out laughing. “Boy, I have never learned to read more than to count my salary. And what does reading has to do with any of It.” He didn’t hear any objections and continued confidently. “There are many versions of the story. The one I learned was from the mouth of my bunkmate from the army while I was still a soldier. He was a failed scholar and knew many things; mysteries attracted him. This one was his favorite.”

Kaju cleared his throat while straightening his thoughts before starting. “Apparently, before there was the Empire, the Kingdom, and the Mountains tribes, there existed a nameless civilization in the south.  The nameless civilization prospered for countless generations, but as you might know, nothing lasts forever. It is said that during a clear day of summer solstice people suddenly heard thunder in the sky. They saw the sky cracking and splinter like a glass window, displaying a space full of darkness and malice. Pitch-black rain fell from the sky and everything it touched turned into demons, living or not. Animals, birds, insects, trees, and even mountains, parasitized by the malice, attacked the few who had survived, forcing them to leave the region to find solace in other places. These nomads later established the foundation of our empire. These refugees settled in the north and west leaving the southern region for good until one day the demons suddenly disappeared from the world, leaving the world to us. Only they never truly disappeared. Their descendants still rule over the south. We have forgotten the hate, but the blood of our ancestors still flows through our veins; it hasn’t forgotten the debt of blood between us and it wouldn’t let us mate with eachother. We might look the same on the outside, but we are different on the inside. Well, that’s the gist of it.”

“What a bunch of horse shit.” Pandit scoffed at Kaju. “That’s a campfire story. We are not kids who will believe this crap. Who are you trying to scare?”

Kaju didn’t think so. “I thought the same before I saw the monster last year. And today… you can’t tell me that wasn’t a demon. You add the together and the story becomes very real.”

“You say the brothels are filled with southern women? Then you must have seen them for sure, right?”

“What are you saying?” Kaju sensed trouble coming his way but couldn’t help falling down the pit Pandit had dug for him.

Pandit smiled ravishingly at the old man’s affirmation. “I have been wondering why your old ass stayed single for all these years. I thought it had something to do with your cultivation at first, but I know the truth now. You love the southern women, don’t you old man?”

“What are you implying?” A bead of sweat slid down Kaju’s forehead.
“I’m saying you love them so much you can’t even look at our women, can you? They don’t entice you anymore, do they? You said they aren’t one of us, then aren’t they the same as animals? Are you saying you couldn’t find a girl so you took your lust upon a cow or a goat? Is that what the army is? A bunch of animal fuckers? If that is so then I’m not joining that place. I love women all right! Ha-ha!”

“You imbecile!” Kaju got so mad his face turned red first and then purple. His chest started throbbing from the injuries he had sustained earlier in the day and he choked.

Pandit hurriedly took the reins from the old man’s hand and pulled the cart to a stop before getting busy reviving him from certain death. It was a serious situation, but the boy couldn’t stop laughing. Kaju really would have died if Pandit wasn’t there to laugh at him and get his blood boiling, which cleared his blocked airways. What a sad existence he was.

Mannat examined the old man from the side and ignored the two after learning there was no danger to his life. He started thinking about Kaju’s story and its significance. He took the story at its face value, as a bedside horror story, which like most tales was probably made of lies or half-truths. He didn’t ignore it completely since each such story is a result of the storyteller's experience. A figment of imagination it might be, but the story was real in the essence since it was also a creation of someone’s life experience.

As for whether the southern people were really descendants of demons or not, it had nothing to do with Mannat. They could be twisted ghostly apparitions for all he cared. It was not as if he would ever go visit the ancient ruins of the south in his lifetime.

Soon things returned to calm and the three restarted their journey to the boy’s village. Slowly, they approached a golden sea of crops beyond which they could distinguish the village’s outline. Where Mannat and Kaju relaxed, Pandit pointed out something on the road.

“What’s that?” Pandit had the sharpest set of eyes among the three, the old and the nearsighted.
There was a carriage rushing toward them. A jet-black crow flying above land, it traveled at a break-neck pace spewing dirt into the air. It was a shadow passing through the village and deserved all of their respect.

Mannat felt a familiar breath from the carriage the closer it approached them. His senses tingled. His interest grew high as the crown of a millennium-old tree. The black carriage drove past them driven by two phantom horses, the best of their kind. The driver sat calmly behind the horses wearing the black and grey colors of the count.

“That’s the counts guest carriage. What’s it doing out here?” Kaju announced in confusion, thoughts muddled.
He was a mix of many emotions, but he didn’t expect Mannat to stand up on the cart staring at the unapproachable vehicle like he had found his long-lost brother.

“Father?” Mannat mumbled neither loud nor soft, befuddling his thoughts as they sounded to the other two.
“What did you say?”Pandit said just as the carriage zipped past their cart, followed by another carriage of the same type, only this one was laden with the count soldiers.

Mannat jumped off the cart and ran after the carriage yelling for it to stop. The soldiers hanging on the second carriage looked angrily at him, telling him to stay where he was. Mannat didn’t stop running, but his efforts went in vain; he was too slow to catch up with the carriages pulled by the dark phantoms.

Something was wrong. Mannat had a bad feeling about this. He knew his father was inside the front carriage. He had felt Raesh while the carriage was passing, felt his father’s unease, his insecurity, as well as his fear.

Mannat kept running after the carriages, bathing in the dirt thrown by them until they became two black silhouettes under the evening sky and disappeared midst the craving darkness of the forest. He didn’t want to stop. He wouldn’t have stopped if Pandit hadn’t caught up with him and held him down.

“What are you doing, Mannat? Have you gone crazy?”
“Leave me! Father… he was inside the carriage.” Mannat stared at Pandit, his eyes trembling with unease. He repeated strongly. “I sensed my father in the carriage, Pandit. He was inside and he was scared!”

Pandit looked grievously at his friend. He had never seen him so vulnerable before. “Are you sure?” He asked, believing Mannat because he knew the boy’s capabilities.

“I am,” Mannat answered clenching his fist. His heart beat crazily. His mind sundered. What was happening? Why did the count's men take his father away in such a hurry?

“You don’t have to worry. Perhaps your father received another invitation, only this time the count needed him urgently for some reason?” Pandit said.
Mannat shook his head, unease deepening. “He was afraid, Pandit. He would have warned me if it was an official matter. He wouldn’t have ignored me.”

“Do you both want to die? Why would you run off after the count's carriage?” The angry voice belonged to Kaju. He had driven the cart over to the two of them. “Do you know following that carriage is a high offense? The soldiers on the carriage could have killed you without consequence!”

“He sensed his father on the carriage,” Pandit answered without taking his eyes off Mannat, who hadn’t stopped staring into the distance. “Perhaps the count invited him to the town again.”
“What do you mean by sense?”
“He can sense people.” Pandit specified upon noticing the old man’s confusion. “Don’t ask questions. Just know that he can do that.”

Kaju shook his head and looked over them with two skeptical eyes. “Why would the count invite your father?” He was wondering whether Mannat had a deep trauma or something of the like. However, he also couldn’t chisel away the doubt that Pandit’s assurance brought him.  

Pandit answered him honestly. “His father, Raesh, is a master blacksmith for one. The count invited them both to his residence a year ago, for fellowship, but his father refused because of…” Pandit wondered if he should tell the old man truth, but ended up calling it circumstances. “Perhaps, it’s the same this time?” He turned back to Mannat who was still not convinced.

Kaju didn’t know what to do. Common sense was too uncommon around these two boys. He knew he would be the only one to suffer if he stayed around them for too long. But he couldn’t leave them behind either, not after everything they had gone together.

“Come back to the cart. Let’s go back to your village. Perhaps you made a mistake?” Kaju said.

“He was there,” Mannat said decisively. 

The old man sighed. “Even so, there is no need to panic. Perhaps he was sitting on the others side and thus didn’t see you. The carriage was also in a lot of hurry. Just don’t start running after it again. Not even an adult with one fifty points of agility can catch up to those carriages. It’s not your run-off-the-mill cart, you know. The count brought all of his horses from the royal capital. Specifically bred for strength and speed, they can’t make cross-country sprints but they have no problem making the trip to the town without stopping. We can’t chase them even if we want to. We’ll never bridge the distance.”

Mannat glared at him angrily, but the old man continued unabated, without flinching. “Secondly, your father might have left a message with someone he knows or trusts.”

“Yes, my mother would know what’s happening.” Pandit urged his friend. Only then did Mannat stop insisting and agreed to go back to the cart.

Pandit had a bad feeling about the whole thing and Kaju felt the same. They shared a worried look but kept their thoughts to themselves.

There were too many soldiers. They were at least ten soldiers in the two carts and such vigilance was only required for two kinds of people, either highly important or highly dangerous.

Kaju was starting to regret asking for Mannat’s help a little bit. The plague might have destroyed his village, but antagonizing the count would have drastic consequences for both of their villages. And it would be a sure thing.

Kaju still hadn’t figured out how to deal with the knowledge that the seemingly normal though quaint boy was the Witch’s assistant. Now the same boy turned out to have relations with the count! Whom did he offend to get towed in trouble with these people? He was telling them to join the army just a few minutes ago. How laughable was that? No wonder Pandit never agreed to his insistent requests and pleas.

He suddenly realized that both of them were also severely injured. What if the Count held him responsible for their injuries? He was responsible though. He had taken them to the mouth of danger. Whatever the case, he couldn’t stay idle. He had to ensure the boys understood that he had their well-being in his heart.

That goes to say he was not a coward, but as an army sergeant, he had seen the means and methods of the nobles and their crude and cruel ways to punish commoners like him. People like him were not people in the eyes of the noble’s. Faced with the decision Kaju decided to do everything he could to help the boys.

If only things ever went according to plan.

A large group of men in black kurtas blocked their way near the village entrance. Sarpanch’s goons were waiting for them.