07 – Caravan

Turmion was the merchant at the head of the caravan. Out here, sitting on the soft grass, he rested his back against a bundle of soft wool, and looked at the high canopy of the trees. The wool was mildly uncomfortable, and he shifted his weight to better adjust himself, but the bundle only slipped further down still.

He reached back with his hand to fix it, but after a few tries he decided to just remove it and use the hard wood of the wagon to support his back. The bundle of cloth in his right hand, he momentarily put the bowl of food down onto the ground.

He brought the cloth to his nose, and inhaled. A long and harsh breath, his eyes closed while his mind took him back years upon years, to a time when it was all better. When life was good, and he was happy.

A small blur in his vision told him that he was on the verge of tears. He dried them away with the very cloth that was responsible for their appearance, and folded it neatly. Then, he put it beside him, and picked up the bowl from the ground.

He shook a single ant who had dared try to climb the vertical walls of the bowl, and spooned one large portion of soup up.

The many shouting noises coming from the other edge of the camp forced him to forego his lunch. Startled as he was, a small drop of soup stained the cloth he so neatly folded, and he stared at the stain with ire and disdain. He delicately put the bowl down, moved the cloth away, and crawled two steps away from them.

Then, he punched the ground with all his rage and anger, creating a small fist-shaped depression in the soil. He straightened himself up, and calmly got up to his feet.

Then, and only then, did he let the adrenaline flow freely. His mind was flooded with the images of his caravan burning, of all that he had in life, his money, lost forever. He would protect the money, his goods, his wagons, with his life.

He hurried towards the voices, worried that it was some bandits or even monsters attacking his caravan. He would not go down without a fight. In fact, if he had to choose between going down himself or living to see his fortunes go to waste, he wasn’t sure what he would do.

If he lived, he could always rebuild. But some things would be lost forever.

“Sir, sir!”

The voices were calling from behind one of the wagons. He took out his sword, and prepared himself for an intense fight just before reaching the edge of the covered section of the wagon. His head was pounding with the many possible outcomes of a fight.

His eyes scanned the battlefield. There was nobody there except his men.

“It’s empty?” His whole body deflated, adrenaline quickly leaving him tired and hollow.

“Sir, there’s a man in the water. There!”

His men were all pointing their fingers towards the river. None were approaching, keeping a safe distance from the shore.

He pulled the closest person he could find to himself. In his head, a new scenario was being built, a new way to manipulate events.

“What? Did you just let him drown?”

“No, sir. He just… went in there and sunk.”

Turmion shook his underling. “And what are you waiting for? Go, go, go!”

He pushed the man with force, almost making him stumble on his feet. Immediately he too began to run towards the river, taking off his heavier clothes, while wearing a grin on his face.

“Come on people, don’t let this chance go to waste!”

He ran all the way to shore. He was about to dive in, when the figure of a young man emerged from the water. He walked straight and calmly, looking around in wonder, completely unbothered by the fact that he just came out of the water like it wasn’t even there.

All around, Turmion saw that everyone had his very same look of disbelief on their faces. The concitation of the crowd vanished in an instant, leaving place to gaping mouths and stupid facial expressions. His own face hardened into a stern gaze.

“Hey, boy? What the hell were you doing?”

Mateus, who just barely emerged from the water himself, found that there were at least a dozen people all staring at him. Closest to him there was a man who seemed to be quite angry at him.

He looked around for a moment. Then he realized.

“Ah, this?” He pointed at the river. “It’s just a new magic spell I was testing. I’m sorry I made you all worry.” He smiled a toothy grin, trying to look as innocent as possible.

The merchant sighed. “Oh, well.” His voice carried the sentiment of defeat. “All is well, then.” He faced his men. “You can go back to your things.”

The merchant squared Mateus for a moment. “Come, you’re all wet. You can sit by the fire with us.”

Mateus followed along meekly. The water was not a problem for him, but it was nice of these people to offer him that. Furthermore, it had been his goal all along, to find a way back to civilization.

“Hey, I know your face!” One of the men said from afar.

Turmion gave Mateus another look. “He’s right. You look similar to someone.”

“Not someone,” the same person from before chimed in. “The hero! The new one, what was his name?”

“Maateus, I think?”

“Yeah, Mateus. It’s me.” He smiled.

“Well, well, well. If this is not a fortunate encounter!” Turmion gave Mateus a sound pat on the back, and guided him to sit by the fire to dry.

“So, what are you doing so far from the capital?”

“We defeated the threat! We did it, we saved the world!”

Turmion laughed. “I know that. The ceremony was quite grand, wasn’t it? Speaking of which… wait a minute—weren’t you supposed to be dead?”

Mateus looked down. The merchant’s stare was heavy and uncomfortable, the man sizing him up like a potential threat, or a piece of meat.

“Yeah, well, I’m not. I survived, in the end. In fact, I have to get to the capital to let everyone know I’m alive!”

His speech gained momentum, his voice getting firmer the more he spoke. His resolve growing with each word he said. The merchant gave him a pensive look. His face went through a series of emotions, ranging from deep thought, to happiness, to fear, to curiosity. Mateus could not help but wonder just what the man was thinking right now. He hoped he would help him go to the capital, or at least give him some direction.

Eventually, Turmion’s face settled on a large smile.

“You’re lucky, hero. We just happen to be going that way!” He gestured with his hand, and one of his men went to a cart. He picked up a cloth and put it by the driver’s seat of the front wagon. Turmion observed the whole scene with utmost care, only relaxing after he was sure the underling had done his job. Then, he turned to face Mateus again. “See, we just needed one strong man to defend our caravan. What about I offer you an escort job? Just until we reach the capital, that is.”

Mateus smiled back. “Of course!”

“Good! This way, we both gain from this. I make a hefty sum of money, and you get to reach the capital!”

“Money?”

“Of course, money. You’re basically our prize.” The man chuckled. “I don’t mean it in a bad way, but people are going to be interested in what might the caravan who hosts a hero have to offer.”

“I see. Well, I suppose that’s fair.”

“Even fairer still, we’ll pay you for the escort! What say you?”

“Yeah, as I said, I accept.”

Turmion smiled warmly, but his eyes weren’t happy. His eyes looked just like the eyes of his father, ever since that day. Mateus shook his head. He didn’t want to think those bad things, not now. Not after all that happened.