Beyond Doubt: Whispers of the Unseen - Chapter 94

Welcome to my seemingly endless journey.
A trip that will take you to places I might have visited many moons ago.
It´s a tale that came back to me when I meditated on one of my past lives. A life I told you about in my unbelievable true story.

As promised in that story I will now share this story with you.

Chapter 94

"Apparently, Kreytu doesn't like the army much" starts Cabilah. "He congratulated Dadrie on his escape. Dadrie doesn't know yet how great his antipathy is, but he has been fishing for it by telling certain anecdotes in the hope of getting a clear response."

"And if I can believe Dadrie, Kreytu's hatred of the army is undisputed. This afternoon he left for a friendly landowner, where he will spend the night and return tomorrow morning. He went there to talk about a trade, but I'm worried. It could be that he is bringing in reinforcements to capture Dadrie."
Cabilah's eyes turn darker, "But according to my brother the nearest military unit is a three-day walk away, and in this poor, desolate region, the common soldiers do not own horses.He isn't worried, but I am."

"So the deal is as follows: if Kreytu returns tomorrow, it would take a maximum of three days for the reinforcements to arrive. If nothing has happened after three days, he will inform Kreytu of his real goal. He may well throw Dadrie out, but if he doesn't betray him now, it's unlikely he will."

Then she took a bag off her shoulder, opened it, and the smell of food immediately rose from the leather bag, “If you're quick, it's still warm.”

The smell alone made me salivate. I hadn't smelled something so delicious in a long time, in fact, since Kosa's wife had cooked for us. The smell of the stew made my stomach growl, and I didn't know how quickly to get out my wooden bowl.

Even Numico, who normally did not eat meat, abandoned his principles for once and attacked. Within minutes, the pot had been scraped out and licked out. There was no trace of its contents if there ever was one.

“Well, that Kreytu must be well disposed towards us because I will never be able to forgive him for denying me this kind of food,” I sneered, while I rubbed my belly, which felt nice and warm despite the cold. Numico nodded in agreement.

“I thought you would like it,” Cabilah spoke like a mother to her children, then quickly changed her tone and continued seriously.

“The agreement is that we come to the house on the third day, just before the moon reaches its highest point. Most of the servants are already asleep. We leave the horses in front of the stables and look for the room where Dadrie is."

"If we locate him Numico makes the owl call as a sign that we have arrived. That is the sign for Dadrie to tell the truth. This way, we can witness Kreytu's response and intervene if necessary. Dadrie did not agree with this at first, but I managed to convince him.”

I looked at Numico and thought about the incident this afternoon: “And we all know how convincing you can be, Cabilah.” Her eyes brightened, and a smile appeared, yet that concern for her brother continued to dance around her like a shadow. Which is not surprising, I realize. Dadrie is all she has left, and she only just got him back. Now there's nothing she can do but wait while he may be in danger.

Although I have often had to wait lately, I have not yet become a patient man. My patience has recently been tested and challenged to such an extent that it made me nervous. The environment offered no distractions, so I was forced to reflect and see myself for who I was now.

The long journey had made me more sensitive, not so much to things like knowledge and nature, which had warmed me since my youth. My heart had opened to people, these people. They had been the only ones I had really cared about since my mother died.

In all the previous years, I had been closed off to love. No love for people around me meant no love for me. That protected me from the pain of losing a loved one. And my being chose to protect itself at a young age, and I carried that protection until recently.

It frightens me; we didn't end up in the safest of situations. The loss of Retsj was a clear example of this. But his death did not close my heart. His death made me reach out my arms to comfort the one I love as I knew what sadness was.

I faced the world with an open heart and open eyes. I felt stronger and bigger than before, and yet I longed for the security of the village. That was my place after all. With renewed strength and knowledge, I would prepare the new generation for a future that would be less closed off than that of their parents and ancestors.

There I would pave a way that would preserve the traditions and values of the tribe, even though we now became part of a much larger whole. After everything I had seen, I longed to return to where I came from.

How long will it be before I will be sitting by the water again to do my meditations there? And then that doubt came over me again; would we all ever get home?