The Musafir

Charming Mantel

Before the Mantingan managed to revive itself, it had first heard the clang of metal and long neigh from the horse. But he forced himself to keep getting up. As a result of his tense heart and mind, Mantingan did not have time to feel pain even though his body had fallen and rolled over on sharp stones.

Soon he ran towards Uncle Rangga who was facing two people in black clothes. There was also a sound of clash after clash coming from both sides in the silat fight. The pace of the Mantingan was too slow, the large bundle really hindered him. Uncle Rangga had been pushed into the forest by being chased by four more people.

Mantingan thought that it was not good he chased Uncle Rangga. Besides he does not have the science of silat— never even interest in learning silat, it would be very dangerous if he did not immediately leave this area.

At this time, Mantingan did not care about Uncle Rangga's safety. The journey is still very long. Can't stop at this place and on his first day. The flowers must be found!

The mantan ran as hard as a ghost chased towards the intersection. He prayed so much that his existence would not be known. If it is known, then do not be pursued. If you are being chased, do not get caught.

Sweat and the sun don't care. The original boulders were jumped over. His heart raced as his footsteps tried to carry the body away. But Mantingan fell and rolled again when a flying wooden branch hit his two legs. He grimaced softly, his arm torn wide enough. Blood spurting. The mantan tried to get up and run again, but he was unconscious after his head was hit by something immeasurable.

***

After grabbing his consciousness and opening his eyes, the Manten thrashed strongly and shouted long. His efforts were in vain because his hands and feet were tied to a large pole, his mouth was also gagged, his voice did not come out at all. When looking around with his heart still racing, he found Uncle Rangga in the same state.

The afternoon, Mantingan was in the middle of the field around which there were huts. Surrounded by a variety of clothesline, whether it's clothes, smoked meat, animal skin, or plant skin. The bonfire was located not far in front of him, with people in all black clothes eating while talking and laughing. Mantingan pretended to be unconscious again and heard their conversation.

“We will get the prettiest flower-federal flowers and noble-level food, our life will be happy continue!”

“Yes, but we have to bulldoze people from this one government.”

“I told you before, moron! Captivity and offers. We take him captive, and we make an offer to officials in Sunda.”

“You are a moron! We can all die if to the extent that they attack with special warriors!”

“The bet we put up this time is indeed big and heavy. But the result is no joke either. These nobles we will kill if they dare to go forward just a moment.”

“Your advice is good, but I don't want to die today or tomorrow. I still haven't studied the shortness silat that every scientist uses energy in.”

“If we succeed, then we will get enough money and enough names to learn the power in silat. If anyone doubts a small item, it is better to just die today rather than troublesome tomorrow then.”

“Say empty you Wicaksana! You better prove it tomorrow you say it!”

“Esok morning blind I'll prove. If I make it, I'll cut off one finger!”

“I bet with my two fingers, Wicaksana!”

The next conversation was only about women and money, Mantingan did not want to listen anymore. His captivity, which a noble thought, scared him to death. The closer he closed his eyes.

“You guys ...” There was a growling sound from Uncle Rangga beside him. “Will I cut your necks all ...”

“What can you do with those tied hands and feet, huh?” sniped one of them.

However, they could not realize that Uncle Rangga's mouth that was completely clotted could make a sound so clear. Mantingan glanced at him, which turned out that Uncle Rangga's hands and feet had slipped out of the bind. Those people in black clothes exclaimed in shock. The coat closed his eyes again. A moment later, there was the sound of a weapon being pulled.

“How did you miss?”

“Better talk by hand, asshole!” Uncle Rangga snapped.

The mantel did not open his eyes. It only monitors through its hearing.

The sound of grunts rang out from the sword that split the wind. Uncle Rangga's voice howled long once before there was no sound of fighting anymore. Mantingan ventured forward, only to find Uncle Rangga's neck stuck in a spear shaft.

“Nah, it's awake apparently you, buffalo.” The cold words were followed by another laugh.

Caught off guard in an attempt to glance, Mantingan raised his head and fully opened his eyes. They look at them full of hate. Anger took hold of her after seeing the death of Uncle Rangga— who had helped her a sad and painful—.

“Good-good, I love seeing that look of you. I'd prefer if you saw this too.” The man smiled cunningly.

Uncle Rangga's leg that had been stretched stiff was pulled and the old body was thrown into a huge bonfire. Instead of extinguishing, the bonfire was getting bigger and devouring the body of Uncle Rangga.

“Your death will be more painful tomorrow if your friends ignore our offer.”

One of them approached carrying a club towards Mantingan.

***

As the outside air cooled down and the birds chirped, Mantingan regained consciousness. His body was still tied to the huge pole, trying to survive the cold morning air. Thirsty and hungry.

People dressed in all black were seen preparing their respective weapons around him. Bond Removable mantle. Before he could rebel, his hands were tied again. Even this time his eyes were covered. His body was dragged with a rough snapping. Under such circumstances, the Mantingan could only submit to fate. On the dark journey was also Mantingan remembered Kenanga who would wait for him without knowing he was dead later.

His decision to go to Earth Sagandu was the biggest regret of his life at the moment.

On the way, Mantingan often stumbled over rocks, some even to the point of falling. With his eyes closed, he could only rely on the rough guidance of those black-clothed robbers. Only one name of the robber will he always remember: Wicaksana.

Slowly the warm sunlight began to touch her skin. Thirsty and hungry little forgotten Mantingan. His mind was set on enjoying the touch of the morning sun. Perhaps this was his last day feeling the warm rays of the morning sun. How a Mantingan finds meaning how precious the morning sunshine is.

In his mind, he hoped. Hopefully Kenanga chooses someone else to continue the story of the search for Gembangmas.