“One day I’ll find out what lays beyond this world, or perhaps I’ll finally get the chance to rest.”
“You just might,” his friend returned. “Although, I don’t see what’s the rush.”
“There’s no rush,” Noor replied.
“You could have fooled me or the rest of us,” Mbou said.
Noor said nothing.
“Back at the camp, you once again gave us all a terrible scare there.”
“Did I?” Noor asked.
“Did you?”
“I feel so tired now,” Keita interjected.
“And, whom have we here?” Mbou asked, looking at him, Ossouna, and Aswad.
“Survivors,” Noor said. “Proof that my efforts are not in vain.”
“Indeed, but you know those efforts are often strongly against your ever getting back here, especially the farther out you go,” Mbou said.
“I wasn’t trying to be a hero,” Noor replied.
Mbou directed his attention to the newcomers.
“Welcome,” he said.
“Thank you,” the three replied in unison.
“Gentlemen, this is Mbou,” said Noor.
“Pleased to meet you,” Mbou addressed them. “I don’t doubt for a second you’re tired. Few of us have the energy of this man here, but come,” he added. “We must go. One can never assume he’s safe. Not even here.”
Mbou left nothing to chance despite the area being well patrolled by their sentinels, the wolves, who could detect ghoul odor from a distance up to roughly a mile away.
They would immediately go on a pack hunt should they pick up that scent.
Thus, the wary ghouls stayed tens to over a hundred miles and more away from where the sentinels patrolled; the woodlands near Besi, the great river..
Kimbilio, or the great village of men, where Mbou, Noor, and the newcomers were ultimately headed, was located on the other side of Besi.
This river spanned a distance of roughly sixteen hundred miles over varying terrain. Its narrowest width from shore to shore, near the span of woodland where the sentinels patrolled, was in the range of two hundred yards, and this is where Noor was headed.
“How much further?” Keita asked. “My weariness is such that I’m content to fall and die where I am. My legs feel like they will give out under me at any minute.”
“Try to keep up,” Mbou said. “It’s not too much further.”
“Noor has said that for what feels like an eternity,” Aswad said. “I barely slept through the night. I’m fading fast.”
“I am too,” Ossouna added.
“Just a bit more,” Mbou said. “I promise,” he added, and a party of seventy men appeared out of the woods fifteen minutes later into their journey.
A swarthy earthen colored one led the procession. His name was Zaeim.
“Three?” he said, addressing Noor.
“Yes,” he replied. “Just three. Three precious souls given a chance.”
Zaeim looked into his eyes.
“We’ve told you before. Please, please don’t do this again. When we go, we go as a unit. We go en masse. You know there are thousands of ghouls out there.”
“I do,” Noor said.
“We understand you’re impulsive,” Zaeim said. “But we can’t save everyone, and we can’t afford to lose you, especially not now.”
“What happened?” Mbou asked.
Zaeim directed his gaze toward him.
“The Shetani,” he replied with gravity. “They’ve been back.”
“No,” Mbou said.
“Yes,” Zaeim replied.
The newcomers looked at each other.
Mbou’s face grew stern.
“While their first flight was probably happenstance, their return was, without a doubt, a reconnaissance mission. It would be foolish to believe it wasn’t,” Zaeim said.
Noor’s face was one of concern. He swallowed his saliva, and Aswad saw his Adam’s apple move up and down.
“We believe they’re mapping the layout of the village,” Zaeim added. “We believe an attack is imminent.”
Mbou looked at him. “What else?” he said.
“We dispatched a messenger crow to alert our brethren in the northwestern lands about our situation,” Zaeim replied.
“I see little reason to believe they will come to our aid,” Mbou said.
“Pardon my interruption,” Aswad began. “Are the Shetani birds and not men? How can they fly above your village?”
“They come on the backs of the kilman, my friend,” Noor replied. “They harness it like one may do to a horse.”
The kilmanya, also known as the kilman, were the last of a series of prehistoric flying reptiles from which the dragon myth and legend likely evolved.
“Come,” Zaeim said. “We must go. We need every man back in the village immediately.”
What many of their brethren assumed was correct. The rider, whose name was Kifo, did make a return trip over their village to survey it. Those who saw the reconnaissance man noted on his first trip he came from the south, which they knew had a Shetani stronghold. To the south is where he returned.
On his second trip, although he flew in from the south, he continued going north.
The villagers, mindful there was also a heavy concentration of Shetani in the north, were divided about what to make of this.
Many wondered whether their tormentors would plan to attack them from both the northern and southern front.
Amri, the Shetani leader on the southern front, told Kifo to head toward the Black Mountains immediately after gathering additional information. His instructions were to go there to alert Nyeusi so he’d decide what should be their next move.
Nyeusi mounted a kilman within an hour of hearing the news Kifo brought. He, Kifo, and an immortal who was terrified of mounting the flying animal was instructed to get behind him and hold on, or his arms would be cut off should he refuse to comply.
They flew east toward the Sepulchral Range, a series of mountains some two thousand miles away, where the necromancer, the lord of the underworld, was thought to be.
Nyeusi, Kifo, and the fellow who held on to him while trembling the entire length of the way dismounted from the flying beasts. His legs shook so terribly after placing his feet upon the ground that he was surprised he could move or stand.
Kifo urged him to get a hold of himself. He bound his hands behind his back, and the three of them walked past the necropolis of the ancient city Sanctuary where in times past, men defeated and ran its goblin inhabitants out
