Zeudi stepped out off the little house. This was the first time she faced the Idris's men and really looked at them. And they in return looked at her. Only there was someone missing.
"Were is Armana?" She asked no one in paticuler. The men looked a one and other.
"She escaped shortly after you did, princess." One of them did.
"Good ridens, no offense princess. But you might be a Royal pain in the butt, but you treated us like your fellow men. That woman made it painfully clear that we were below her." Another explained, the others nodded their heads in agreement. This made it clear to her that they were not going to look for Armana. Zeudi hoped that her lady royal would go home, instead of the palace. If Woldu went through great lengths to kill her, what would he do with Armana? This was a question she did not want to know the answer.
*******
Idris knew that he was dreaming, the scene played in front of his mind's eye were all memories. The first focussed on a little girl in front of a large house. The girl had black hair with gray highlights, her blue eyes were sad. A much younger Idris walked up to her.
"Hey Zeudi, why are you so sad?" He heard himself ask. The girl looked at him.
"Mommy said that we are leaving in the morning." The much younger Zeudi replied. He knew all too well how he felt back then. He had grown fund of the younger princess, but Dawit, the local witch doctor who was in charge of raising him and the other orphanage, had warned him that this day would come.
"I would miss you." He replied after a while. "Here I made something for you." It was then he had given her the bracelet.
"Really, is that for me?" She asked, her face light up like a candle. She was so happy with the single bracelet he had made. "I am going to show this to mommy, thank you, Idris."
The scene shifted towards him standing at the gate of his village. She had just left and he was crying like a baby holding the broken bracelet. It was just a small snippet, but it made clear to his adult self that it hurt him deeply, finding the bracelet like that. Now he knew that she felt as bad for loosing it. The scene shifted to a slightly older, but still younger version of himself. He was sitting on his bed, packing the things he owned, which was not much.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
"What are you doing?" Simret asked. Other boys who lost their parents through the illness gathered around his bed.
"I am old enough to stand on my own. But the current smith those not want me as his apprentice, so I am leaving Samala." Idris replied. He didn't want to leave his home, but maybe he would find a job in another village or city. Maybe he could find one in the capitol. His adult self would have told him not to bother, there were no other honest jobs out there.
"We will come with you." Simret said. Idris looked at the four boys surrounding his bed. Two of them would find a job, and one of them would not even reach the first village. Something he did not know at the time, so he had back then no problem of taking them along. The scene shifted again. He was sitting with Russom around a campfire, it was just after their first heist and the adrenaline was still rushing through his veins. Simret was in Russom's eyes a bit too young for this, so had to stay behind. Something Simret and did not agree on, but there was nothing they could do about it back then. Now he was able to understand that, that particular heist was indeed too dangerous.
"You did well, boy." Russom said, patting him on the shoulder. "If you keep this up, you will become my second in command." This was a few of the promises he actually kept. Idris became second in command, and right now he was the leader of the group. He had known that the time would come, but he had not known it would be this soon. The only thing good out of this all was the fact that he was able to meet Zeudi again, after all these years. His memories started to fade away, and the darkness overtook him, but only for what seemed a few seconds. He opened his eyes and look straight into large brown eyes.
"Welcome back, mister." The voice of the owner of those eyes said. "I am Arsema, the leader of the witch doctors in Hifadhi. There is no need to introduce yourself, your friend already told me how I should call you." Idris pushed himself up, a witch doctor? Were his injuries that serious? "You are lucky, and should take it easy for the next couple of days." Idris nodded, slowly. Where were his men? Where was Zeudi? "They are staying in the royal house, you walk straight to the village square and then you will spot it yourself." A royal house was the largest house in a village and is only available for the royal family and their company. So he has been shown an honor.
"I will find it, thank you." He said, the woman weaved with her hands.
"Don't act so noble, I know what you do for living, and if that old fart Dawit knew what you were doing, I think he would not survive it." The woman replied in a huff. She knew Dawit, that was not so strange, it seemed all witch doctors knew each other. "And now out of my house." Idris did what the woman had said and rushed out of the house.