The equation was getting more complicated by the minute for the preachers. Soleiman was quite literally dragging his companion. Mustafa was barely able to stand up, let alone walk on his own. Soleiman had both of their bags on his one shoulder and Mustafa's arm on the other. Mustafa had inadvertently abandoned his fez so Soleiman stashed it in his bag along with the diary of the dead missionary which he didn't have the time to have a look at. Mustafa struggled to keep himself silent. He was groaning at every step. Such was the pain. He couldn't bend his wounded leg at all. The chest wound had rendered his waist and an arm too painful to use.
"How much longer?", Mustafa barely managed to speak. Soleiman didn't have the answer. Soleiman decided to keep moving, unless utterly impossible. He would have lifted his companion on his shoulder if he was in the state that he was before the misfortune. His own body was calling him names but he was damn certain that Mustafa was in greater deal of anguish. "Just a little more. You thirsty?", he asked. Mustafa couldn't make a sound, just managed to shake his head sideways. They walked on until one of them was too tired to lift a foot.
A cracking noise came from behind them. They stopped to see what caused it. They couldn't make out what that large shadow was of. As their vision settled, they were welcomed by the troubling news. A large silhouette of a feline stared at them from a behind the trees. Its bright eyes drilling into their souls. Mustafa puked on the ground and unlinked from his companion's arm. Soleiman shivered with fear, his eyes open to their fullest. He looked to his friend and saw an easy meal for the beast. He quickly scrambled to get him back on his feet. As soon as he did, he looked back at the direction where they had seen the predator. It had vanished. It was not something to be relieved about as Soleiman saw it, but then he pondered upon his strategy if it had attacked from in front of their eyes anyway. He then saw it as a window of opportunity. Like God telling him, "It could have been worse". He kept consoling his friend and dragged him on.
"Water break!", whispered Mustafa. A whisper was all he could manage with the level of energy left in him. Soleiman responded with a "Just a moment", and walked on for a while. Just as Mustafa started to groan in a frailer manner, Soleiman decided to stop and give his friend a moment to breath. He wouldn't even touch his thigh anymore. Mustafa was stiff as a log. The thigh wound didn't allow him a slow descent to the ground and chest wound forced him to collapse on dirt as he tried to lay down for a moment. Soleiman took the water bottle and assisted his friend in sitting up with the support of a tree at his back. Mustafa let out a loud groan as he did. Soleiman had stopped worrying about the voices attracting their assailants. They were at the rock bottom with nothing to lose. Mustafa was a dead man walking. He wouldn't survive another day without proper medical care. Soleiman himself was growing mentally numb with so much happening around him. He just wanted to check the "Attempt" box. He was trying to make sure that even if his attackers managed to find and kill them, their deaths wouldn't count as suicides for the lack of effort. He offered the water to his companion, he sipped it. Even the little sips seemed to cause a lot of pain. Soleiman felt his forehead once more and received another bad news. His friend was worsening by the minute. Moments later, Mustafa had stopped drinking and asked Soleiman to give him minute. Soleiman didn't have anything else to do, so he waited until his friend felt like standing up.
The preachers were startled again by another noise. This time the noise was man made. A bunch of voices screaming and shouting behind them but they sounded more panicky than aggressive. They both looked at the general direction. Soleiman on his feet and Mustafa on the ground, both equally paralyzed. The voices persisted. It took a moment for the preachers to regain their senses. Soleiman walked in the direction of the noise, towards the wall of trees that secluded them from the denser part of the forest. As he approached the spot of the noise, he caught a vague glimpse of two villagers in their warrior armor with a war dog. Soleiman was shocked to see them this close to him. The warriors flailed their arms furiously and the dog seemed out of control. He tried to focus and understand the reason for such behavior. It took him a while but the answer became visible. A swarm of bees had ambushed them. He had kept his eyes peeled for honeycombs that were being a lifeline for his friend in distress. He had found none other than the one he had harvested from in the dark. Soleiman realized that the hive they had left behind was too far back for its bees to be at that spot. Mustafa came to his feet behind him with let out a groan in every movement. Soleiman felt his companion sharing the spectacle with him.
"Didn't we just come from there?", Mustafa whispered and Soleiman nodded. "God given paths?", Mustafa whispered with a tired smirk. Soleiman was too occupied to respond. The warriors fighting off the bees were met by the rest of their team that arrived running behind them. One of the men that arrived later, lit a torch and fended off the bees with its smoke. It was a success. The preachers kept staring. A horseman, surrounded by the apprentices, emerged behind the warriors. Soleiman put a hand on his mouth in fear of making a sound. Mustafa hadn't ever seen the Shaman with his own eyes but the man's attire and Soleiman's reaction left no space for a question. As soon as the bees dispersed, the search group rushed to the aid of their pals who were left swollen.
"By my count this is the last sniffer left", a warrior spoke out looking at the dog with its eyes almost swollen shut. The rest of the group was scared beyond comprehension. Only a few of the warriors remained in their senses and kept their fighting spirit alive. The volunteers, apprentices and hunters would have given anything in return for the end of the nightmarish pursuit. "We stick together from now on!", commanded the Shaman, clearly enraged by the unexpected retaliation. He almost admired the audacity. The preachers, against their better judgment, couldn't help but watch.
A pair of pale hands emerged from behind the preachers and muffled both of their terrorized screams. A "shhh!" came from behind them and they were both stiff.
"What the hell are you waiting for?", the voice from behind them asked in an angered whisper. Just as he spoke, the swollen faced dog started pulling its leash in their direction. The handler of the war dog held his ground and kept himself from being dragged away. "You wanna shove us into another beehive now?", the annoyed warrior taunted the dog. The dog was relentless. It was determined to break the leather leash.
"Do you have any other bright ideas?", the Shaman spoke out. "Follow the dog even if it leads you off the cliff!", he ordered.