Long Day's End

 

Drindl looked down at this evening food packet with disgust. “Rotten?” Alpen asked.

“No,” Drindl sighed. “I thought we would get extra after working all day building that breakwater pier.” The sun dipped its lower edge into the water. He looked up the road from the prisoner’s compound. “Fallon and Alithea are not back yet. Where’s Bebe?” He looked over his shoulder at the two Cawthingi guards patrolling the road. “We need to find them.”

Alpen patted Drindl’s knee as he tore a bite from his evening food ration. “Slow down, D.” He rarely used that nickname since the first week of Drindl’s training long ago. “Bebe’s here already. Fallon hurts before he gets hurt. That’s a warrior. If Alithea and Erthen are still with him, they are probably safe.”

Drindl turned to him, a surprised look on his face. “Bebe, where?”

“She was beside me the last part of the journey home. I told you it was Bebe.”

“I thought you had sunhead,” Drindl admitted.

“Sunhead?!” Alpen pushed at his elbow and Drindl rocked to the side. “Old men and children get sunhead.” He tore another bite from his ration as though it were a fresh kill.

“How? Where?”

“The prisoner next to me,” Alpen said.

“That was a man,” Drindl insisted.

Alpen laughed. “Good disguise. She’s a fine storyteller with the young ones. Rolling around in the sand. How did she think of that?”

Drindl looked back. “Where is she?”

“She ‘accidentally’ got in with the group behind us. That Jade prisoner said he knew Mellen. She’s going to find out. We need allies from our tribe.”

Drindl jabbed himself in the chest and fell backwards, laughing. “I was worried about my aging mentor out in the sun! I am the burble head,” referring to the bird’s bobbing head as it walked. “I see nothing!”

The guards came toward them, prod sticks urging them back to their part of the prisoner compound. In the sleeping chambers, Bebe waited for them, her fur fresh and clean.

Drindl rushed forward, embracing her before Alpen had a chance. “How did you get clean?” he asked. “Where were you? At the queen’s palace?”

Bebe laughed as she stepped back from Drindl’s embrace and held out her arms to Alpen. “Queen’s palace,” she scoffed as she hugged Alpen close to her.

“You’re all right?” Alpen stepped back to look at her. He sensed something lurking under her gaiety.

“That’s Marten’s palace,” she said. “I saw the crest stone plaque. These creatures took over the city that Marten built before the civil war among the People.”

“Marten?” Drindl interrupted. He had not heard the name.

“The old king, the sea god,” Bebe added and Drindl nodded.

“Did Sarten take his name from the old king?” Drindl asked, sitting down in the darkening shadow.

Bebe laughed. “His grandfather did. Sarten is named after his grandfather.” She turned to look toward the entry. “Are Fallon and Alithea with you? Is she better?”