Garinor didn’t think he had a chance of fending off the panther with his sword, but he couldn’t leave his back exposed to the beast. He pulled the weapon from its scabbard and held it before him with one hand.
The giant cat watched him warily and Garinor knew it was going to make short work of him if he didn’t think quickly. He didn’t have any hope of catching it off guard, so he needed to act in another manner.
He reached one hand into the sack the woman had given him, his other arm holding the sword steady. He removed one of the sweet cakes from the pouch, bit off a small bite, then took the rest in his fingers and cast it toward the panther.
The creature recoiled for a moment, then sniffed at the projectile. Keeping its eyes on Garinor, the panther opened its maw and ate the pastry. The cat chewed for a moment and then it stepped forward, as if looking for more. Garinor threw more bites its way and the panther devoured each one of them. Finishing off one cake, Garinor took out another. He broke this one down the middle and then he took a real chance. He hefted one half over the panther’s head so it would land behind it.
Intrigued by its meal, the cat chased after the flying food. Garinor was amazed. He lobbed the other half much further away but within the panther’s line of sight. The cat merrily pounced after its treat and promptly dropped down, gripping the pastry with its paws and taking time with it. Garinor didn’t waste another minute watching. He readied another sweet cake in case he needed it, but he backed out of the forested area and sprinted off to the east, making sure the hungry feline wasn’t following him. Luckily, the rain seemed to wash away his scent.
As Garinor ran, he felt the parchment ease its way out of his pocket and he had to scoop down and pick it up when it fell. The rain was erasing the coal drawing of the mountain and cave, but as Garinor examined it, he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. The large oval of the cave with the sharp peaks of mountains looked much more like the panther he had faced than a prophetic mountain range. Perhaps the old woman had foreseen something after all, but it certainly wasn’t what she had thought.
“Better be something funny on that parchment or I’d say you’ve lost a few of your senses,” called a melodic voice from nearby.
Garinor jumped and looked around to find a young man, sword poised in warning. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
“That was obvious. What are doing in this region?”
“Heading north.”
“This is east. Don’t get smart with me.”
Garinor shook his head. “I know. But see those trees over there? There’s a panther in there and I barely escaped. I couldn’t help coming this way.”
The man eyed him shrewdly. “Hmm. The old ‘there’s a panther in the woods’ story.” Garinor’s brow wrinkled but then the man burst out laughing. “Just kidding you. But listen, it’s not safe for you to be roaming around aimlessly here. If you hadn’t been laughing and it hadn’t been me here, you might be dead.”
With a heavy sigh, Garinor nodded then wiped rain off his face. “Seems to be how my days are going anyway.”
The man eyed him questioningly and then motioned for him to follow. “If you’re going to tell me all about it, then you might as well come with me and get out of this rain. But keep it quiet, okay? I’m on watch. By the way, I’m Song.”
Garinor followed him in the rainy afternoon to a leafy shelter set up in the bushes. There wasn’t room for them both, but Garinor squatted next to him in the mud. Once in a while the rain let up, but it was overall a messy place to sit. He related a shortened version of the events that had led him there.
Song let out a low whistle. “That’s some tale, Garinor. You’re a pretty brave person trying to venture off on your own like that.”
Garinor smiled at the compliment. “Thanks, but I’m starting to feel foolish now. I only have a vague sense of where I’m headed.”
“North, you said. Well, we’re all heading north at the moment. Maybe Chief would let you go with us.” Song then explained that he was part of a larger force of men and women who were currently on the run after a recent battle. “We were holding our own, but we need reinforcements if we’re going to win, so that’s where we’re headed.”
Garinor nodded, wondering if it was a good idea to get caught up with a band of fighters. His mind swirled with many doubts and he let out a deep, heavy sigh.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m thinking I should go on and seek out the king. Find answers that way. I don’t think I’ll find this mysterious cave on my own.”
Song looked at him like he was crazy. “Go to the king? You know, of course, that the prince is killing boys your age. Don’t you think the king would be in on it?”
Garinor shrugged. “But the king sent for me at the start of this all. Maybe he has a different plan in mind.” Then he met Song’s gaze in earnest. “Do you think the king would just kill me if I showed up?”
Song stared at him for a while and then regrettably shook his head. “No, I don’t think he would. It wouldn’t look good if people turn up at the castle and don’t leave. But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t plot against you,” he warned.
“I just need answers.”
Song nodded and clapped Garinor on the shoulder. “Listen, it’s time to head back into camp. Come with me and have a bite to eat, stay the night. I’ll talk to Chief when we get there and iron all that out. Then tomorrow you can decide to come with us or go off to the king.”
“That sounds great, Song. Thank you.”
The rain clouds had drifted away for good and evening was fast approaching. Song led Garinor into camp, the man’s sword at the ready, to let the others know that he was in charge of the situation and that boy was there of his accord. As promised, Song smoothed over Garinor’s presence with Chief and he was given food and shelter for the night.
“You’re with me, actually,” Song said when he gave him the news. “It’s a small tent, but it’ll do.”
Garinor looked around and commented, “There aren’t many tents and everyone is soaked. I can sleep outside.”
Song smiled at him and shook his head. “That’s generous of you, but it’ll be easier for us to keep an eye on you if you’re holed up in a tent.”
“Oh. But aren’t you worried that I could do something to hurt you then?”
“Yes, but that’s the risk I take in bringing you in. Oh, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Dinner was done and a warm campfire was lit. Song went up to the light and stood on a small stool. When he opened his mouth, Garinor knew how the man had earned his name. He sang a deep, rich ballad of some unknown adventurer, questing across the land in the hopes of rescuing his beloved and finding riches along the way. It was a great story regardless, but through the gifted voice that fluctuated the tune in perfection, the story came to life. It was a shame the whole world couldn’t hear Song perform regularly.
Garinor felt somewhat dazed when Song returned and led him to the tent to sleep. Song warned him that he was being watched throughout the night and that if he tried to escape, he would be killed without question.
“So now would be a good time if you need a moment to yourself by a tree.”
“Ever so poetic,” Garinor laughed. When it was time at last to settle in for the night, Garinor took off his sword and handed it to Song. “I don’t want you to think I’m going to hurt you, Song. Put this somewhere.”
Song smiled and shook his head. “Thank you, but that would only put my guard down and you could lunge at me with something else.”
“Like what, one of these sweet cakes?”
“Yes, well, I hear those things are deadly to panthers.”
They laughed and then Garinor sighed.
“What is it this time?”
“I was wondering what it would be like to have a voice that was powerful enough to move mountains and yet gentle enough to breathe life into words. You have a real gift.”
Song’s face lit beet red and he threw a blanket at Garinor. “Now who’s being poetic?”
They settled down then as the rest of the camp’s activities also went to silence. The crackle of the fire floated through the night air and Garinor lay there, staring at the tent wall, wondering what he should do. Things were quiet for a while and he thought Song was asleep, but then he spoke. “Garinor?”
“Yes?”
“Do you really think you’ll go off to see the king tomorrow?”
“I don’t know what I should do.”
“Well, I hope you decide to stay for a while.” He paused for a moment then added, “And thanks for not saying I sound like a bullfrog.”
“If you’re a bullfrog, then I’m a drunken lizard with a bad cold.”
Song turned over. “What?” But then they both fell to laughing.