The night sky was black with smoke, the fortress behind them burning like a dying beast. The air stank of blood, sweat, and scorched wood. Every breath Njuwa took seared his lungs, but he kept running. There was no time to rest.
Kifo was still inside.
He should have been right behind them, slipping through the gap like they had planned. But instead, Njuwa had heard the clash of steel, the desperate shouts of battle. And then—nothing.
Jengo grabbed Njuwa's arm as they sprinted through the trees. "We have to keep going!"
"But Kifo—"
"He told us to run!" Jengo's face was streaked with soot, his eyes wild with fear. "We'll die if we go back!"
Njuwa clenched his fists, but he knew Jengo was right. His heart twisted painfully, but hesitation meant death.
They pushed forward into the forest, branches whipping against their skin as they ran. The fortress guards would be after them soon, but they had a head start. That was the only advantage they had.
---
They ran until their legs screamed in protest. Only when they could no longer hear the distant shouting did they stop. Njuwa leaned against a tree, gasping for breath. Jengo collapsed beside him, clutching his side.
"How… far…?" Jengo panted.
"Not far enough," Njuwa said. His ears strained for any sign of pursuit. The forest was alive with the sounds of insects and distant night creatures, but no footsteps. Not yet.
"We need to find a place to hide," Jengo said.
Njuwa nodded. They couldn't afford to keep running blindly. He glanced around, searching for anything useful. The trees were thick, their canopies blotting out most of the moonlight. The ground was uneven, littered with rocks and tangled roots.
Then he saw it—a narrow ravine cutting through the landscape. Steep, but climbable.
"There." Njuwa pointed. "We hide down there until morning."
Jengo frowned but didn't argue. They scrambled down the ravine, dirt crumbling beneath their hands. At the bottom, they pressed themselves against the shadows, listening.
Minutes passed. Then hours.
No one came.
---
The first rays of sunlight pierced through the trees, casting long shadows over the ravine. Njuwa's muscles ached, his body stiff from the night spent huddled against the rocks. Jengo stirred beside him, rubbing his arms for warmth.
"What now?" Jengo asked.
Njuwa exhaled slowly. "We find out where we are. Then we figure out our next move."
Jengo's stomach growled loudly, and he groaned. "Can our next move involve food?"
Njuwa couldn't help but smirk, though his own stomach felt just as empty. "Let's go."
They climbed out of the ravine, stepping cautiously onto the forest floor. Everything looked different in the daylight—less threatening, but no less unfamiliar.
"Which way?" Jengo asked.
Njuwa hesitated. He had no idea where they were or how far they had come. The fortress was somewhere behind them, but beyond that, the world was a mystery.
Then he spotted a broken path, half-hidden by overgrown vegetation. It wasn't much, but it was something.
"This way," he said.
---
They followed the path in silence, their footsteps muffled by the damp earth. The deeper they went, the more signs of civilization appeared—discarded footprints, broken twigs, the occasional rusted tool half-buried in the dirt.
Then, as they crested a small hill, they saw it.
A village.
It wasn't large—just a handful of wooden huts clustered together, smoke rising from a few chimneys. Fields stretched beyond the houses, with workers tending to crops.
Jengo grinned. "Food."
"Careful," Njuwa warned. "We don't know if they're friendly."
Jengo frowned but nodded.
They approached cautiously, keeping to the tree line. The villagers were simple folk, their clothes worn but clean. Women carried baskets of vegetables, while men hauled sacks of grain.
Then Njuwa spotted something that made his blood turn cold.
A man in armor.
Not a soldier from the fortress, but still a warrior. His armor was old, dented, and patched with leather, but he carried a sword at his waist. He stood near one of the huts, talking to an older man who seemed to be the village head.
Jengo tensed. "Think he's looking for us?"
"Maybe," Njuwa said. "Or maybe he's just passing through."
They needed food. They needed information. But walking into a village with an armed warrior present was risky.
"We wait," Njuwa decided.
---
Hours passed. The armored man eventually left, riding off on a tired-looking horse.
Only then did Njuwa and Jengo dare to move closer.
The village smelled of fresh bread and cooking stew. The scent made Njuwa's stomach clench painfully.
A boy about their age was carrying a bucket of water from the well. His eyes landed on them, widening slightly.
Njuwa held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "We don't want trouble."
The boy hesitated, then glanced around before motioning them forward.
They hurried to him, keeping their heads down.
"You're not from here," the boy said, voice low.
"We need food," Jengo whispered. "And maybe a place to rest."
The boy hesitated, then nodded. "Come with me."
He led them to a small hut on the edge of the village. Inside, an old woman sat by the fire, stirring a pot of soup. She looked up as they entered, eyes sharp despite her wrinkles.
"Who are these two?" she asked.
"Travelers," the boy said. "They need food."
The old woman's gaze lingered on them for a moment before she sighed. "Sit."
Njuwa and Jengo obeyed. The old woman ladled soup into two wooden bowls and handed them over.
The first sip was like heaven.
As they ate, the boy sat across from them. "My name's Tembo," he said. "That's my grandmother, Nyoka."
Njuwa wiped his mouth. "I'm Njuwa. This is Jengo."
Nyoka studied them. "You're running from something."
Njuwa stiffened. "Why do you say that?"
The old woman chuckled. "Because no one comes through this village unless they're running from something or looking for something."
Jengo glanced at Njuwa nervously.
"You don't have to tell me your story," Nyoka said. "But be careful. Strangers attract attention."
Njuwa nodded. "We just need to rest. Then we'll be gone."
Nyoka sighed. "Finish your food. Then we'll see."
---
That night, Njuwa lay awake on the straw mat Nyoka had given them.
They had escaped the fortress. They had survived the night.
But this was just the beginning.
The Baron wouldn't let them go so easily.
And Njuwa still had unfinished business.
Kifo was still out there.
And one way or another, he would find him.