The Bard of Kishkuma the Moonstar

This is the Bard of Kishkuma the Moonstar. No man is sure whether it
be legend or truth, but it is said touches the hearts of all men. Read
it and judge for yourself.

Kishkuma was awoken by the eerie hum of silence, which radiated from
nearby. Rising wearily to his feet, he sat and rubbed his eyes,
allowing himself an instant more of rest, before dressing and heading
for the door of his newly built stone dwelling. However before he
reached the entry and exit alike, one of his friends, a poet named
Sertian, appeared. Sertian was distraught, his eyes darting left to
right constantly.

"Dead, Putello, dead," he told, the words tumbling over one and
other.

Kishkuma frowned.

"How?" he asked, his voice flat, plain, and entranced.

"He was slain in a duel that just took place, a man, a great warrior,
came, challenged him, it was a great fight, the man won, took Putello's
eyes, then rode away. Hern gave chase, he slew him as well. None have
come forward to say they know the man."

"Why was I not summoned when the challenge was first put forth?"

Kishkuma's tone had not changed, his eyes, usually sparkling bright
blue, were now pale and unfocused. Sertian was worried. He had never
seen Kishkuma like this before.

"Putello forbade it. He said that you would not want to be awoken. We
did not wish to disobey him. We thought he would win.
He&;#8230;we&;#8230;" the poets answer diluted into silence. The
events of the last few minutes had hit him hard. He was no warrior.
Blood was not an ever day occurrence for him.

"Take me to him," Kishkuma ordered.

The crowd parted for their chieftain as he stepped from his house.
Young men of the tribe saw the opportunity as ripe to attempt to gain
the newly vacant place of champion. Kishkuma waved them away, and
stepped past the body on the floor and onto a large rock nearby. All
the villagers had come around to hear their leader address them.

"I am Kishkuma, leader of the Hierbanks. My champion has been slain by
one unknown. If anyone knew the man who did this please step forward
now. I give you my word you shall see no harm."

No one moved, and Kishkuma nodded and waited a few seconds before
continuing.

"This man," the tall chieftain pointed to the corpse on the ground
where flies were already gathering, "this man was my blood brother, and
I personally will find the devil who has killed him and cut his eyes
out to give to my brother, so that he can seen in the next life beyond
the Moonstar. I shall find eyes for my dead companion, so he can see
and enjoy the afterlife. This is so, I state it, for I am Kishkuma of
the Hierbanks, son of the Moonstar, brother of the mountains, nephew to
the streams."

No one spoke, and without another word Kishkuma took his sword, his
bow, a dagger, and 30 shafts from a young-boy who served as his aide,
and took off upon his mighty horse into the hills where the man had
fled.

The night was cold and Sertian was regretting his decision to follow
his leader, and, he hoped for his sake, friend. However it was too late
now, he could not return to the village, he had promised the people he
would follow Kishkuma and record his deeds. It had not been easy to
persuade the young warriors to stay behind, Sertian only hoped his
argument would keep.
At last Sertian spotted the strong figure of Kishkuma up ahead. The
poet had ridden like the wind to catch him.

"You follow me poet, why?" Kishkuma call from up ahead.

Sertian was astounded. How had he known that it was he following him?
He had not turned around to face the poet. How long had he known as
Sertian's presence?

The silence prompted a rare laugh from Kishkuma.

"You ride like no other man, poet. I will always know when you follow
me. You should do well to remember that, friend."

Sertian nodded to himself and rode up next to Kishkuma.

"I have come because I have seen the man, and I thought that -" Sertian
began to explain, before Kishkuma cut him off by raising his scared
hand.

"There is no need to explain poet. I knew someone would accompany me. I
did not except it to be you, but do not worry I am not disappointed.
Now ride with me, and speak no more."
And with that the men rode.

[to be continued............]