Chapter 10
Time Marches On
In a year or maybe two, we’ll be gone and someone new will take our place
there’ll be another song, another voice, another pretty face.....
The two weeks before he was to leave were a blur of confusion, miscommunication, and hopeless wandering for Falco, but finally everything was cleared up and he was ready to go.
Sometime during the course of those two weeks, a sheep had been selected to go with Falco and Rhandon as well. His name was Pietro and Falco didn’t know him at all. Rhandon seemed to, however.
“Taking that sheep with us is nothing but bad news,” grumbled the goat on the eve of their departure.
“Why?” asked Falco, completely in the dark.
“Don’t ask why, just wait,” was the cryptic reply.
“What, you say don’t ask why, well, I already asked why, so tell me!”
“I said just wait!”
“But you said don’t ask why after I’d already asked why. So now you have to tell me.”
“I most certainly do not.”
“Well, then don’t say don’t ask why when I’ve already asked why, and don’t say ‘well don’t ask why, just wait’ because that gives me nothing to do if I’ve already asked why.”
“Well, I’m not going to tell you! So stop trying to confuse me!”
“I’m not trying to confuse you!”
“Oh no?”
“No!”
“Oh, forget it.”
“I can’t, it’s too fresh in my mind.”
“Then go bang your head against the wall!”
“That was just a phase.”
“All right....all right...but if we are going to leave tomorrow, we can’t sit here jabbering all night. Good night, Falco.”
“Night, Rhandon.”
Rhandon trotted off to his quarters. Falco still didn’t know what the whole hang-up with Pietro was.
* * *
Falco fell out of bed the next morning at an ungodly hour and stumbled dumbly around the House. He met Rhandon, who was stumbling equally as dumbly, in the hall. They finally found Pietro out front, fresh as a daisy.
“’r you Pietro?” Falco blinked, trying to clear his eyes.
“My friends call me Pete,” said the sheep politely.
“Okay, Pete.”
“I said my friends,” he glowered. “You can still call me Pietro.” The young sheep sneered. “Time to go, gentlemen. The Quilawine awaits.”
“Wot’s the Quilawine?” Falco yawned, his mind hazy.
“He asks, ‘what’s the Quilawine’! Heeheehee!!” Pietro giggled.
“Yes, I did ask what’s the Quilawine. So you’d better just tell me..”
“Oh, now don’t start that again...” muttered Rhandon, rubbing his eyes.
“The river, stupid!” the sheep jumped up and down. “The river we cross to get into Fulormene!”
“Awright. We better get going then hadn’t we?”
“We’d better.”
“Then let’s.”
“All right.”
“Good show.”
“I’d say so.”
“I wouldn’t. You two should have stayed here. You’re worthless,” commented Pietro mean-spiritedly.
“You know, that wasn’t at all nice to say.”
“Indeed it wasn’t. I’d apologise if I were you, Petey.”
“I shan’t.”
“I prithee, do so immediately or I’ll hack you to pieces.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Are we DRUNK! The gall of it!”
“Come on, let’s go.”
“Yes, let’s.”
They left.
* * *
They had been walking all day, and Rhandon and Falco were getting very tired. It was closing in on high noon, but Pietro showed no signs of slowing down or stopping for lunch.
Finally Falco had to say something. “Uhhh....Pietro?”
“What?”
“It’s noon.”
“Your point is?”
“Most people eat lunch at noon.”
“Most people aren’t on a mission, stupid,” Pietro frowned.
“But it’s late and everybody’s hungry,” Falco whined.
“That’s your problem! We have to get to the Quilawine by sundown!”
“Pietro,” Rhandon said wearily. “We’ve covered a vast space since dawn, and the Quilawine can’t be more than two or three kilometers off by now. Aravit gave us provisions for a reason, you know.”
Just then, the sound of running water became apparent in the distance.
“See, we’re there already!” Falco said angrily. “What are you trying to pull?”
Pietro narrowed his eyes. “We’re...not...stopping. We’ll cross the river and walk until you drop. Then we two will go on without you. Then Rhandon will drop, and then I’ll go by myself. Then the Fulormese will find both of you and kill you. That is what we’re going to do.”
It’s not really possible for birds to change colours, but Rhandon could have sworn that Falco turned a very pale shade of green at that moment. “He’s crackers,” Falco said in a scared tone, backing away.
They were on the bridge now, and Pietro’s small stature was looking much more intimidating than it had a second ago.
Then Falco started getting mad. He turned to Rhandon. “Should I whack him a good one?”
“If you don’t, I will,” Rhandon glared daggers at Pietro.
“Right, then.” Falco whacked Pietro a good one, and the sheep stumbled and fell down, but not into the swiftly moving river. He was delayed for a second, and Rhandon grabbed Falco’s wing.
“Come on, jump in the river!” the goat said in a whisper. “We’ll ditch Pietro while we still have time.”
“Uhhh...okay...” Falco and Rhandon jumped into the river and kept their heads below the surface. By the time Pietro recovered, they were well away from him. The sheep cursed and sat down on the bridge, then pulled out the food pack and ate everything in it before standing up and plodding back to the House.
Meanwhile, Rhandon steered himself through the dark waters and grabbed at a little cave, pulling Falco in after him. They sat there and Falco tried to dry himself off.
“See, this is what I was trying to tell you!” Rhandon said. “I knew when they had a last minute addition to our ranks. Pietro was sent along to ruin our mission, to try and make us fail.”
“Why?” Falco’s mouth hung open.
“Because Aravit likes to make sure he gets the best,” Rhandon gritted his teeth.
Suddenly Falco’s eyes clouded over. “It’s time to go.”
“What?”
“I’m going now.” His eyes lost any hint of expression. In a flash of brilliant blue light, he disappeared.
Rhandon blinked.
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