Farther along the forest road, six bandits sat beneath the shade of a large tree.
The path curved around the mountain there, with thick bushes pressing close on either side and patches of sunlight breaking through the canopy. A few empty bottles rested in the dirt between the men while they drank and talked.
None of them looked particularly impressive. Their clothes were worn and mismatched, and their weapons were just as simple. One carried a wooden bat, another had a short knife tucked at his waist, while a long stick rested beside the group.
One of the bandits glanced down the road and suddenly grinned.
"Aye, Chuck! You're out!"
The others turned.
Chuck was walking toward them with an irritated look on his face. He raised one hand in greeting before stepping off the road.
"Yeah. Just got out, and I already got sent here."
A few of the men laughed as Chuck sat down with them.
"Didn't even give you a day off?"
"Shut up."
Someone passed him a bottle, and Chuck took a drink.
Across from him, a thin bandit with crooked teeth leaned forward.
"So tell us."
Chuck looked over.
"What happened to that village you were scouting?"
Chuck took another drink.
"The pirates are still there."
The crooked-toothed bandit's grin faded.
"The ones who killed Higuma?"
"Yeah."
That quieted the group.
One of the other bandits shifted.
"How strong are those pirates?"
The man holding the wooden bat frowned.
"Higuma had eight million berries on his head. Boss only has five."
Nobody volunteered to find out.
Chuck kept his eyes on the bottle.
"I got close enough to check Foosha, but they were still hanging around. Didn't feel like ending up the same way Higuma did."
One of the bandits frowned.
"So how'd you get caught?"
Chuck paused for half a second.
"Bad luck. Some villagers spotted me before I could leave. Made enough noise that I got surrounded."
He lifted the bottle again.
Getting arrested was embarrassing enough. He wasn't about to admit a ten-year-old had been the one who put him there.
The man holding the wooden bat scratched his chin.
"So Foosha's still off-limits."
"Unless you want to go deal with those pirates yourself."
"No thanks."
The crooked-toothed bandit leaned back.
"Boss won't like hearing that."
Chuck shrugged.
"He wanted to know if the pirates were still there."
He raised the bottle.
"Now he knows."
A faint creaking sound came from farther down the road.
The men went quiet.
Wooden wheels rolled over the uneven dirt, accompanied by the steady steps of a large animal.
One of the bandits looked toward the bend.
"Well, look at that."
A carabao emerged from between the trees, pulling a wooden cart loaded with sacks of rice and baskets of herbs.
Raisa sat at the front with the reins in hand. Behind her, Kome leaned over the side of the cart, looking around the forest.
The seven bandits exchanged looks.
Raisa noticed them almost immediately, and her hands tightened around the reins.
The carabao slowed.
Kome's excitement faded when he noticed the men watching them.
"Grandma..."
"I see them."
Raisa kept her voice calm as she brought the cart to a stop.
The crooked-toothed bandit stood first. Two others rose with him, one resting the wooden bat across his shoulder while another placed a hand near the knife at his waist.
"Morning."
Raisa looked at them carefully.
"Good morning."
The man's eyes moved toward the sacks in the cart.
"Going to trade?"
Raisa didn't answer.
His grin widened.
"Thought so."
Kome shifted closer to his grandmother, and Raisa reached back to rest one hand against his leg.
"We don't want any trouble."
"Neither do we."
The crooked-toothed bandit walked toward the cart and placed one hand against a sack of rice.
"That's why this can be easy."
Raisa's expression tightened.
"What do you want?"
"Rice, herbs, whatever money you've got."
He patted the sack.
"Hand it over, and you two can keep going."
"That's nearly everything we brought."
"Then you packed well."
A few of the bandits laughed.
Behind Raisa, Kome stared at the man's hand resting on the rice.
His hands clenched.
"My grandma worked for weeks on that!"
The laughter quieted.
Raisa turned quickly.
"Kome."
He climbed down from the cart before she could stop him.
"Kome, come back here."
His feet touched the dirt, and the seven bandits looked down at him.
Several laughed again.
Kome swallowed.
They looked much bigger from down there, and the bat, knife, and long stick suddenly seemed a lot more threatening.
Still, he bent down and picked up a rock.
His fingers trembled around it as he planted himself between the bandits and his grandmother.
"You can't take it!"
The man with the bat laughed.
"What's the brat going to do?"
Another pointed toward the rock.
"Careful. He's armed."
Raisa quickly climbed down from the cart.
"Kome, that's enough. Come back to me."
He glanced over his shoulder.
The fear on her face made his grip loosen slightly.
"Grandma—"
"I don't care about the rice."
Raisa held out her hand.
"Come here."
Kome looked at her hand, then back at the men.
The crooked-toothed bandit stepped toward the cart again.
Kome tightened his grip.
"No!"
He threw the rock.
It struck the man squarely in the forehead.
"Ow!"
The laughter stopped.
For half a second, everyone stared.
Then the man's face twisted.
"You little brat!"
"Kome!"
Raisa rushed forward, but the bandit was already moving.
He kicked Kome away, sending the boy sprawling across the dirt several feet from the cart.
"KOME!"
Raisa hurried over and dropped to her knees beside him.
"Kome! Look at me!"
For a moment, he stayed down.
Then his fingers pressed into the dirt.
Raisa froze.
"Kome?"
He pushed himself upright.
His legs shook beneath him, and tears had gathered in the corners of his eyes, but he reached down and picked up another rock.
"Kome, please."
Raisa caught his arm.
Kome looked back at her, then gently pulled free and stepped in front of her again.
The stone trembled in his fist.
The bandits stared at him.
Kome stared back.
---
Not far away, Ling was taking a longer route back from Naguri's cove when a woman's scream suddenly carried between the trees.
"KOME!"
Ling stopped and immediately changed direction.
He moved quickly through the forest, following the voices until the trees began thinning around him. Near the edge of the road, he slowed and looked through the branches.
A carabao stood in the middle of the path beside a cart loaded with rice and herbs. An elderly woman was crouched beside it, with seven men surrounding the road.
Ling stepped onto the road.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Ling narrowed his eyes.
"How did you get out?"
Chuck's grip tightened around the bottle in his hand.
"...You."