[b]Bapentui City[/b]

Affurendi moved through the room like a ghost. Even the hard knocking of his hooves muffled as he drifted by lantern light between shelves and drawers and coat pegs. Outside the distant sounds of music wafted in the cool evening air, blowing in through the tall open windows on the coming night breeze. Night time would not be the best to move out in. But when often times the word of the court moved faster than the wind, being inconspicuous was often the best choice.

The roads would be lonely, and the satyr behind their own doors. No one would notice.

The old Overroomi through open the palm-bark doors of his dresser. Few clothes inhabited the confines. Inside only court clothes hung. But tucked in the corner the heavy and dark waves of a sagging traveling robe hung. He pulled it out without ceremony, closing the doors behind him as he threw down his traveling sack.

Holding the coat up to the dim light he looked over it. It had been years since he donned the overlapping dark cloth of his people. Clouds of dust still clung to the threads as well, ground deep into its fibers. Red, orange, gray, and light browns. All rubbed so deep, whether by wind or fight. Despite the years, it still smelled the same. That strong dry, musty smell of sweat, blood, and mud.

Waves of nostalgia washed at his feet as he held it up. He'd be on the road again soon, if not in the respects of free wandering. But he'd be out on it again. He wondered if he still remembered how. What all the tricks were. Where all the shelters were.

The clasp of knuckles on wood sent out the tide, and he quickly came back to the firm dry ground of reality. Lowering the robes Affurendi looked up, turning to the door. “Come in.” he invited. Folding the heavy wool and cotton up in his arms and throwing it aside for now.

The door creaked open on its brass hinges. The wood beat heavily as in walked Affurendi's guest. A skinny familiar satyr. Tall with a bowed back. “Affurendi, I thought I'd find you here.” he smiled. His lips were large, and flush. They seemed only bigger and meatier as they stretched his face. His eyes lit with a light of their own by his own happiness.

“Burundi.” Affurendi greeted, “I wasn't expecting you.” the elder commented.

“Well I wasn't expecting to have to look for you.” the other said smiling. He rose on his hooves, touching the tips of his long fingers, “I figured you'd be ready to eat, and you'd be at your counter. No one else has seen you all day, or not since this afternoon.”

“I already ate.” Affurendi said plainly.

“Oh, that's good to know then. And it would explain!” Burundi laughed nervously, “But, is something going on? Why are you pulling out your old coat?”

“I was asked to do something” the old satyr said, unfolding the robe in his arms, “I'll be leaving. I don't know for how long.”

“Leaving, to where?” Burundi said aghast, walking across the room. His hooves beat heavily off the wooden boards as he drew near. He was a bald man, and his crown shown with the brilliant gold of the lamp-light.

“Important.” Affurendi said, “What have you heard about Rwan?”

“Rwan?” Burundi said with wide eyes, “I've heard rumors. Is it true he's missing?”

“I'm going to look for information on that, confirm it.” confirmed the Overroomi as he opened the robe again in his arms, “I'm heading out into the kingdom's interior to ask around. Get some leads and pursue them.”

“Can I help?” asked the courtier excitedly. He was one of the few Affurendi helped raised. Burundi, a bastard by birth never had a father until he came. There was an almost unsettling appreciation Burundi had in Affurendi, like a last effort to make a father out of someone he was not. But it was appreciated by the traveler. And he after all did not know fully how many sons or daughters he himself had sired, and failed to raise.

The Overroomi considered, standing quiet. “I suppose you could.” he said, reaching down to pull off his court dress. Stripping naked before his old student he continued, “I could use some eyes and ears in the Bugan. I can't be in two places at once, given where I'll be headed.

“Kabaka Yesobi would like to know everything you hear about Rwan. But do not let the Bugan know that.”

“This sounds deeper than I thought.” he commented with a trembling tongue, “Is this involving Mami?”

“It could.” Affurendi confirmed, “Try to get their trust, or anything you can derive their intentions. Or Mami's intentions in being involved with Rwan's disappearance. If you get anything, bring it to the Seusebi and the Kabaka. But give it to Ashra first. I don't want to retest the legendary wroth of Yesobi, even if he has mellowed in the years.”

“I see. And where will you look?” he asked.

“I can't tell you, that'll be betraying too much.” scolded Affurendi, “Remember what I taught you about getting information. You never reveal your intentions. You are not who you were before.

“If you can confirm something is afoot, confirm yourself in their ranks and infiltrate. But always keep yourself a secret. I can not stress this. If it is a collective mission, then I fear they'd want you dead.”

“I understand.” Burundi said, “It can't be much harder than when I helped Mufrundi find her lost necklace.

“But I don't think the reward will be as fun.” he laughed nervously, “But I'm involved now. I- I guess I have no choice.

“Now that I told you: no. You're committed.”

[b]Savanna[/b]

Under an open night sky a small fire burned in the bush below. Resting below a acacia tree. The chirping and buzz of the cool night life sang around the camp as the warriors nestled below the tree sat in wait for day. Overhead stars glistened in the purity of the night sky. Unadulterated by clouds, the million lights of night could keep watch on their children below.

Isolated from the fire Niyo sat alone, set on a rock at the edge of the fire light he slumped against his spear; a new one given to him before they left camp. He watched the lights, the eyes of the gods, wondering just went wrong. Wonder how he could let go of his brother. And how he could be blind to his obvious distress. But could it have really been safer if he brought him into the thick? Could he have spared the time to find a different tribe present?

Or were they all enemies now?

Behind him his entourage talked softly. Laughing among themselves, not wholly committed in the same way as Niyo. True, they would go to save his brother. But by their laughter and jokes they did not feel nearly as invested as the prince himself. They were along as company, and of support. Niyo didn't know how easily it would be for them to falter and head home if their demands permitted it.

The idea of being so easily abandoned by them troubled the prince as much as the thought of Rwan being harmed anymore than he was. So he secluded himself.

It had been a hard day of tracking. A longer week of that. In the grass it was easy to loose their tracks. It was hard to tell how far ahead they were, and so how readily truthful the way the stalks were bent. Thick mats of yesteryear's grass littered the ground between the stalks, a thick mat of yellow and brown. If they gave way to hooves it couldn't be seen.

But for as great as the task felt, it was possible. They found the trail and stuck to it, as hard as it was. Where there was mud they stopped, inspected the trail. The depression of hoof prints, how far apart they were, and in one direction. Feeling and seeing their depth helped figure who was in the party. All evidence suggested Mami was still on the run with his guard.

How fast could they move? How fast could Mami run? Such a fat bastard suggested not well. But it had been a week without meeting them. Or seeing them on the horizon. But they had a twelve hour start.

There was no blood in the grass as well. Which lead Niyo to believe they had tended Rwan's wounds well. That he had stopped bleeding. But how was he traveling?

Twigs snapped behind him, and Niyo looked over. Idii stepped alongside the prince, he lowered himself alongside him. Sitting on his haunches in the sandy grass alongside the rock Niyo leaned atop of.

“You don't come and sit with us.” Idii said plainly. Looking up at the prince. A look of concern deep behind his face.

“I want time to think.” Niyo said.

“That's all well and good.” Idii said, “But I have learned even the most troubled soldier needs to be one with his comrades.”

“That may be true,” Niyo said, “But I don't feel ready.”

“I can tell this wears on you heavily.” Idii sighed.

“It does.”

Idii nodded, tracing his knuckles through the sand where he sat. “I lost a brother too, once.” he said, “He was out by the river, looking to spear fish. A lion took him.”

“You sound at peace with it.”

Idii laughed, “Well, it was years ago.” he chuckled, “I moved on. But the important thing is I believe I've moved past it. I'm sure my brother would have wanted the same.

“Would Rwan want you to be so isolated?”

“He already knew I isolated myself from some well enough.” he said, “I'm not my younger brother Agoa. So I don't think he would think anything less of me.”

“Well, in that case what would the men think?” Idii asked, “They will follow you far. But they do need a leader to be present with them. And not away from them. A chief doesn't sit himself away in his hut, closed off from the world and all but himself and his closest.

“He is not a leader. He is a coward. Not afraid of his enemies, but of his allies. They will go far, but only so far if they are not confident.”

“How far is far?” Niyo asked, “I am ready to go to the edges of the world to recover my brother. Will they follow?”

“If you be with them, and make them feel it is their mission too. And they are not but accessories.” Idii spoke, low and soft. Like a sage. “We trained together, I will go as far as you will. But I can not speak for the others.”

“I'll think about it.” Niyo replied, “I want to meditate on this more.”

“As you will.” Idii sighed, standing up, “But do not seek solitude for long.”