The Musafir
Ten Gold Pieces
“Stop calling me that name.”
Then some of them ask, “Master want us to call what? Just say!”
Mantingan thought for a moment before giving an answer, “Call me ‘Young’.”
They stared at Mantingan with a strange look, but not for long because the charm of Mantingan made the children do not care if they had to call Mantingan with what name.
“Young People, can we ask for food?”
Some of them dared to ask like that. It was their purpose to come here, after their mother and father did not have enough food for breakfast.
The mantle shook his head, he did not have much food.
“Then, does Young Man have any good clothes to give us?”
The coat shook his head again, the clothes would not fit and fit the children, after all he did not have much clothes.
“Ih, it turns out that Young People are just as poor as us huh!”
The children laughed amusedly, but still stood there to look at Mantingan.
“Young People,” said one of them, “I have a beautiful Brother, does Young Child want to marry her?”
Manten coughed at the question. Again, he could not believe what he had just heard.
“Excuse me, I want out.”
“Give way, give way! Young man wants to come out and marry my Brother!”
At once they took out their heads from the curtain of the tent and gave the Mantingan a way out, while cheering happily because the older brother of one of their friends would marry Mantingan. Had they known that the Mantingan would not have married at all, then they would not have been like this.
He came out of his tent and looked around. The day was still bright ground, the sky was pale blue. The air is really cold. The streets and houses around were still quiet, only these children who had somehow come from any house made a crowd.
The mantle began to fold his tent back. The children still seemed enthusiastic waiting, even the two children who had fought earlier had not wrestled. Such are the children, always curious about something new, and can forget about hostility and resentment.
Can Mantingan do the same? Inside his head was still blazing flames of vengeance and hostility for whoever had killed Rara.
Finished folding the tent into a very small fold and has been put into a bundle, Mantingan then put a caping and grasping the stick.
“Young People! Are you leaving here?”
“Ya,” reply Short coat.
“Please give us a few items that we can later sell and we eat, Young man.”
The mantel looked at the snot children surrounding him. They stared at Mantingan expectantly while still sucking his snot. The mantans could see them clearly, there was no pretense in their gazes. The kids are really hungry.
“What do you need?” said.
“We don't need much stuff, Young Man. We just need food, our rice fields are dry because there is no rain ...”
“Katak stop calling rain, Young Man!” One of the children interjected.
“True, Young Man! So sad. We tried to eat the soil, but it was very unpleasant and our stomachs got sick. We have no money to buy food in.”
Before the children spoke more, Mantingan had already raised his hand. “Ya, wait a minute.”
He reached into his coffers, taking out ten pieces of gold. The children stared at the pieces with sparkling eyes, never before had they seen that much money.
“I want you to use these money wisely. Give it to their parents, or to the village chief. Let them have the deliberation to use this money fairly. Don't be greedy!” Mantingan then gave all the money to the child who looked the oldest of the others, the child who was also good at talking about explaining the condition of his village.
The snot boys bowed deeply to Mantian, still sucking his snot.
“Thank you, Young Man! Thank you!”
Ten pieces of gold should be enough to support the village for a few weeks or months, depending on usage. But Mantingan knew that the ten pieces of gold could not save all the villagers from the ferocity of the drought. Moreover, this drought is a longer drought that is worse than the drought last year.
If only Mantingan stayed here for a few months and fought hard to help them, then this village can be sure to survive thanks to Mantingan. Because Mantingan is an educated person, who understands reading and how to survive by relying on nature alone. But Mantingan did not want events like Rara's death to repeat itself, so he had to leave here.
At least ten pieces of gold can reduce the death toll.
As Mantingan wanted to step away, he was held back by a child who pulled his robe slowly.
“What Young Man does not marry my brother?”
“No, I have to continue the journey.”
“Yah ...” The boy muttered disappointedly and took off his mantle, then back he said, “but I still thank the Young Man, I will never forget the services of the Young Man!”
Mantingan nodded once and stepped away, the children escorting Mantingan up to the outer door of the village. They waved and cheered as the Mantingan stepped out of the village.
Back Mantingan continued his steps towards the south. He felt that the sooner he reached White Wind College, the better. Conditions at this time are not safe, almost all places become vulnerable because black people roam everywhere.
The mantle carries no weapon other than its staff. But now he has made the rod a spear, for he has rolled again the tip of his rod. The pointed end of the spear was facing upwards, while the blunt end was facing downwards and touching the ground.
Then Mantingan let out a long sigh staring at the line of trees in front of him that were starting to dry due to drought. He sank back into his mind. It seems like there will be a lot of problems that will befall him if he decides to enter the martial world.
It could be said that the martial world was a crazy world. The warriors who fill the martial world are the crazy ones. They studied silat which would only be used to challenge other warriors.
If one of the warriors has challenged another swordsman, the challenge must be fulfilled by the warrior being challenged. Or if not, his identity as a swordsman will be smeared, considered not a swordsman.
And if the challenge is met and they fight each other, then the winner is only one. That means death is considered a defeat.
