Chapter 39 – The Angel from Heaven.
The wind blew through the trees of the forest bordering the thieves' village. Dead leaves swirled in the damp air, and the branches groaned under the weight of the rain. Gosh, his hair soaked and his face dirty, carried Glann on his shoulders. Their makeshift shelter was nothing more than a pile of rotting planks and wet blankets.
As he ventured deeper into the forest to search for berries and roots, a faint whimper caught his attention.
— "Wh… who's there?" murmured Gosh, his eyes scanning the shadows.
A few steps away, a boy lay against a tree, his head bleeding, one leg bent under him in a painful position. His pale face, covered in mud and blood, showed a mixture of fear and pain.
— "Hey… are you okay?" asked Gosh, kneeling down, his hands trembling but steady.
The boy shivered, unable to speak. His blue eyes met Gosh's. For the first time in a long while, Gosh saw another child in need of help, just like Glann once.
— "I… I can't walk…" murmured the boy.
— "I'll help you," said Gosh, straightening to lift him. "Hold on to me. It's going to be okay."
Glann, weak but curious, lifted his head from Gosh's shoulders:
— "Gosh… who is he?"
— "A boy… hurt. We're going to help him," replied Gosh, trying to smile despite his fatigue and worry.
As they carried him back to their shelter, Gosh spoke softly:
— "How did you end up alone in this forest?"
— "I… I got lost… and I fell. My home is too far… I didn't want to go back…"
— "And you plan to stay here then?" asked Gosh, skeptical.
The boy nodded:
— "I can't go… they told me my mom is dead, but I know it's not true. I don't want to go back."
Gosh felt a mix of compassion and resolve.
— "Alright… you stay then. But you have to help us survive. Nothing here is free."
— "Me?" The boy shook his head. "I'm not like you… I'm not a thief…"
— "No one here is like you… but you can learn. And… you can help my brother."
The boy looked at Glann, lying on the mat, his frail body covered in red pustules. He frowned.
— "He's… sick?" he asked, concerned.
— "Yes… almost always. He's getting worse every day."
The boy leaned closer, observing Glann carefully.
— "If you keep going like this, he will die…" he said, his voice trembling but firm. "He needs to be taken to the capital… there, a healing mage can save him."
Gosh remained silent, eyes fixed on the ground. The idea of the capital frightened him: too far, too dangerous, and they were so weak.
— "And… if we go? What if we get killed before? And if…" he began.
The boy interrupted, placing a hand on his shoulder:
— "Listen to me. I know it's risky… but you have no choice. Your brother… if he's survived until now, it's because of luck. But now… he needs help, and you can't do this alone."
Gosh lowered his eyes, his heart heavy.
— "And you… why are you helping us?" he asked, wary.
— "Because… it's the right thing to do. And I can't just watch someone die when I can do something," the boy replied seriously. "You want to save him, right? Then do what you must."
Gosh felt a spark of hope ignite in his chest. He nodded, determined.
— "Alright… we'll go to the capital. For Glann."
The boy gave a small, almost reassuring smile:
— "Then you'll have to be brave… very brave. But I will help you."
Days passed;
The forest was quiet that night. The wind passed gently through the branches, and dead leaves cracked under the steps of nocturnal animals. Rokan, the sharp-eyed thief, hid behind a tree trunk, watching the strange trio: two skinny boys, one carrying the other, and a blond boy who seemed unusually confident despite the situation.
For several days, Rokan had been following them discreetly. At first, he thought they were kids fleeing poverty, but that night, he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket that he had stolen at a market. It was an official wanted notice, accidentally dropped by a passerby who didn't know what to do with it.
He unfolded the document slowly, squinting to make out the words in the dim light.
— "Son of the missing king… any information or capture will earn a reward… one billion diamonds…" he murmured, incredulous.
He read it several times, as if his eyes were playing tricks on him. Then he looked up at the trio. The blond boy… matched the description perfectly. His features, stature, hair… everything fit.
— "It's him…" Rokan whispered, his voice low. "It's the king's son… Prince Arthur… and those two are with him…"
He remained still, thinking, weighing all the consequences. His hand clenched the paper. The smell of ink and paper made him shiver, but it was not fear—it was greed.
Rokan stepped out of the shadows and silently walked toward his camp. He joined his accomplices, gathered around a meager fire.
— "Listen to me…" he said quietly, careful not to alert the wind. "What I'm about to tell you is not a rumor… nor an exaggeration. The boy we saw… he's the king's son. Arthur… the missing prince."
A silence fell over the group. The men exchanged hesitant glances.
— "And… it's true?" asked a young thief, his voice trembling.
Rokan held the paper out to them, his eyes shining.
— "Read for yourselves… one billion diamonds. The reward is enormous… and all we have to do is capture him… and the two with him."
The men exchanged looks, a mix of fear and excitement on their faces.
— "But… how do we do it?" murmured the youngest. "He's a prince… he must have guards or magic…"
Rokan gestured for them to come closer.
— "No one knows he's here… not yet. We have the advantage. We wait for the perfect moment. We follow them, learn their habits… and when they're vulnerable… we strike. Simple. No panic, no mistakes."
He paused for a moment, watching the flames in his men's eyes, then added, in an even lower tone:
— "One billion diamonds… do you realize? One move, and our lives will change forever. But we must be patient. Every detail matters."
The forest remained silent, as if listening, and Rokan felt his heart beat faster. He knew that tomorrow, their fate—and that of the children—would be decided.
To be continued.....