The first chapter of the sequel to The Kefi
The warm afternoon sun bore down on the inhabitants of Gicha village.
A few peaceful weeks had passed where nothing dangerous or unusual had occurred anywhere in the surrounding area.
There were rumors of disturbances in the woods, but no one has succeeded in verifying the details, so the citizens of Gicha (complacent to a fault) felt there was no reason to worry…yet.
Faslo, Collop, Poldi, and Kai departed Gicha village a few days earlier on a supply run. They entrusted Grig and Oxter (with Cuddles, of course) to protect the city while they were away.
Grig and Oxter were simultaneously honored and intimidated by this prospect.
On their first day in charge, Ox and Cuddles roamed the perimeter of the village while Grig made periodic inspections of the city, looking for anything that didn’t belong as his new longbow and quiver thumped against his back.
The citizens ignored all of this, moving automatically through their habits and routines.
However, as time passed and no dangers presented themselves, Ox and Grig began to relax their vigilance.
Their patrols began to slowly dwindle, occurring less and less before disappearing entirely by the end of the second week.
As a result, they were unprepared when the first stranger arrived in the village.
Grig lay under a spreading vine enjoying a nap in the shade.
Without warning, a cloud of gnats surged into his face, buzzing like mad and nipping at any exposed flesh they could find.
“Gah!” Grig sputtered, waking up in a hurry. “Get off! Ow! Get the greck out of here, pests! Ow! Okay, that’s it!”
Grig jumped up off the ground, slashing back and forth at the cloud with the flat of his hand. He sent one gnat flying into a tree and dazed several more before they finally decided he wasn’t worth the effort and moved on.
Grig was so engaged in gnat-swatting that he failed to see a swift movement on the outskirts of the village.
As the last of the gnats began to depart, a fat brown blur scrambled up the thick vegetation surrounding the village, crouched low, and then leaped high, landing inside the walls without making a sound.
Grig had just settled down to resume his nap when he heard a rustling sound close by. The first thing he saw as his eyes fluttered open was a miniature keen-edged blade pointing at his face.
The Pygmy shrew holding it glared down at Grig. In a surprisingly husky voice, the shrew growled “Take me to Grig Solly, NOW, beanpole.”
Grig is always in the thick of it haha. Cool start to the next adventure. Excited to read on!