William passed day after day in his new home in the small village of Thaluk. Half a month passed. He trained, patrolled the forest, or when he was bored he joined in hunting and fishing with the villagers. They were all fun people. From them, William learned many things.
As he was on patrol with five soldiers to a creek in the east, a fisherman said, "Actually not all Hualeg people are bad. I remember, there was one who came once, and his behavior was good. He gave us coats, while we gave him food, fruit, or medicine. But one like him was rare. They'd rather rob us."
"When did they come the last time?" he asked.
"Last summer. They came in five boats, each containing ten people. Some of us managed to run and hide in the forest. But many have not had time to run. They didn't survive …"
"Why did they kill? Was it not enough for them to just rob?"
"How would I know?" replied the fisherman annoyed. "Maybe they thought what's the point of carrying an ax if it's not being used to slash people?"
William rowed pensively. Hearing that story made him really hate Hualeg people. Now, if these villagers and his friends knew that his father was Hualeg, he would definitely feel very embarrassed.
William and his soldiers continued their patrol. They followed the creek to the east, then pulled over and climbed the hills. They dispersed, and soon regrouped without finding anything suspicious. As the sun began to slip to the west, they came to a log cabin not far from the riverbank.
An old man with a white beard greeted them. The hunchbacked old man was named Bullock. He lived by gathering wood, fruit, and medicinal plants. It is said that he had lived there most of his life.
"Finally you guys stopped by my house. Why now? Wait, let me get you a fresh drink. I haven't had a drink with anyone in a long time."
"Thank you, sir. But we're only here for a moment," William said politely. "We just wanted to ask if you've seen anything strange lately."
"Strange … things?" Bullock brought her ear closer.
"A suspicious person, for example."
"Oh. You mean the people from the north?"
"Yes, Hualeg people."
The old man walked over. His eyes, which were almost covered by thick white eyebrows, narrowed, trying to recognize William's face. "I haven't seen anyone else here in a long time. The northerners have never been here either. Usually, they only move near the main river, right? Yes, there used to be some people who came, but only my friends from another village."
"So there really wasn't one recently?"
"No one, son."
William nodded.
"Is everything okay?" Bullock asked back.
"We hope so. Well, if that's the case, then goodbye, sir. We have to go now."
"Why are you in such a hurry?" The old man patted William's hand. "You don't want to accompany me for a while? I'd really like to talk to you, son."
William suddenly felt pity. It seemed that the old man really wanted to talk to other people. Perhaps he had lived alone in this hut for too long without having visited the other villages.
"If you insist," William replied with a smile.
"Ah, thank you, son."
"Hey, Tuck," a soldier said. "We've been on patrol since yesterday and haven't gone home. We'd better get back to the village before evening."
"You go first," William replied. "I will follow. Leave me one boat."
The five soldiers agreed and went home first.
Bullock invited William to sit on the veranda of his house. William had to sit down carefully because the chair looked rotten. The old man briefly entered the house, then came out with two bottles of water.
Once again he expressed his joy. "I told you before, son, I haven't had a drink with anyone in a long time. In the past ..." Bullock mused, "I used to drink every month until I was drunk, especially when he visited me."
William took a sip of his hot drink, then frowned. "He?"
"Yes, that man. The bear-coat gatherer." Bullock looked at William's face once more. "You don't know him?"
"Why should I know?"
"Because your face looks like him. Both of you … are very similar."
William's breath caught. His mind wandered. In a short time, he was reminded of his mother's words about his father, who she said was very similar to William. Did Bullock mean his father?
His joy exploded. But doubts arose. It's still uncertain. He shouldn't just show his feelings. "Who's he?" he asked.
"A Hualeg. Imagine, the person I drink the most with, my best friend for a long time, is a Hualeg." Bullock laughed. "He was a hunter who often sold his coat to the villages. He lived by the river for several years. Then someday he disappeared, never to appear again. I don't know, maybe he finally returned to his country and settled there again." The old man watched William who was still holding back his emotions.
"That's been a long time ago," Bullock continued. "But, I never forget the face of a friend. And today I saw you, with my myopic eyes, and I was surprised. Because you look a lot like him. Your face, your stature, your eyes." He nodded. "So I believe, you actually know him. That's why I was surprised earlier, why didn't you want to admit it? Are you afraid? You're afraid of a weak old man like me?"
William was still silent. One thing that did surprise him, why he didn't want to just admit that the man Bullock was referring to was his father. Even though it was proven that his father was a good person. Everyone who knew him said that, that he wasn't like most Hualeg people who seemed to just like killing. After all, for better or for worse, wasn't that man his father, which meant William had to admit?
William nodded. "Yes. He… seems to be my father."
"I'm pleased to hear that. But why do you seem unsure?"
"Because I've never met him."
"Ah. So… you don't know if he's still alive or … dead?"
"Yes," answered William, though he remembered his mother's clear words that his father was dead.
"Now you want to know more about it?"
"Yes." William nodded. Emotions stirred. He almost cried when he said that one word.
"I may not be of much help to you. What do you want to know?"
"You know where he used to live?"
"He once said his house was by the river. Not the Ordelahr River, but this little river. I've never been there, but I think, if you follow the river all the way east, you might find it."
"Thank you, sir."
"What are you looking for there?"
William was pensive. "I just wanted to know," he answered uncertainly.
Bullock nodded, stroking his beard. "I used to think I knew him, but maybe I didn't. And I wonder what happened to him. I think you know a little more than I do. But … you don't want to tell me yet."
"Once I find out more later, I'll tell you about it."
"I'm glad to hear that," Bullock replied. "Because it means you will come here often, and become my friend. Like your father."