The stillness didn't just break; it unspooled.
Tantei and Kanka instantly melted into the shadows at the side of the palisade.
On the platform above, the first guard's eyes flickered open like dim torches. He sat up stiffly, scanning the source of the sound, his massive gata club gripped tighter in his lap.
He rose from his seated position, his heavy muscles tensing as he moved toward the edge of the platform.
He stood like a solid wall of oiled skin and deep Mahogany, the spiked head of his club catching the last of the fading light.
As he peered into the distance, the only sound was the faint, rhythmic creak of the wooden floorboards under his massive weight.
He let out a low, guttural grunt, a sound like stones grinding together, as his eyes searched the shifting smoke. "What? The lights," he rumbled, the words vibrating deep in his throat.
He paused. The silence of the headland seemed to press in on him for a heartbeat too long.
He gave his head a quick, sharp shake, a sudden movement that made his short, coarse hair rustle against itself.
"It was probably the wind. It will light up soon," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
He turned his back to the ladder, his heavy tapa wrap swishing softly against his legs. With a long, tired exhale that sounded like a slow leak of air, he lowered himself back down.
The platform gave one final, sharp groan of protest as he settled his frame, and then the night returned to its heavy, stifling quiet.
Tambo remained hidden low in the grass, fixed his eyes over the tops of the damp blades. "Huh? What the heck is going on over there? Why aren't they luring them out yet?" he muttered frustrated.
Tantei stepped back toward the edge, brow lowered in confusion. "I don't get it. No one comes out."
Kanka shot Tantei a stressed look, then glanced toward the ladder. "Maybe we should try again."
"Okay. Try again," Tantei whispered, voice edged with strain. "A bit harder this time."
Kanka simply nodded in grim agreement, then sprinted to the wall and patted the wood harder: a quick, frantic tap-tap-tap, then sprinted back to the shadows. "Go, go!" he hissed.
On the platform, the guard instantly jumped up, his expression stern. "What the heck is that sound?" He stood towering, peered around the area. "Those damn annoying animals don't know when to quit."
He turned, walking around the structure to the other Bati, and roughly shook his shoulder. "Hey, wake up. Wake up now. I heard something."
The second guard startled awake, his eyes slow and unfocused. "What?"
"Stop lagging. Let's check it out."
Both guards, now moved with the rigid discipline of trained soldiers, making their way down the earthen steps and headed toward the inner bamboo wall.
They momentarily glanced a wary exchange. They seized the wooden ladder and began to climb over the
barricade.
The first guard reached the final rung and let out a huge, audible, forceful exhale—a sharp huff of deep, controlled annoyance. He snapped his head to face the second Bati, holding a fixed, intense stare. "Seriously?"
The second guard stared back, clueless. "What?"
The first Bati looked away in sheer frustration, gestured sharply toward the ladder with his club. "You're still asking me what? This—" he jabbed the air "—this is your 'what'. Why did you leave the ladder out? I told you to bring it inside."
He glared at the man for one more intense moment.
The other guard's dark, cloudy brown eyes, were Transparantly thin and empty. His mouth hanged slightly open.
The Bati ontop—then finally diverted his attention. "Forget it. Forget it. Let's just focus on the task."
They both climbend out of the outer wall, their massive, limed-haired frames dominated the air and the torchlight.
Kanka's eyes widened, swallowing hard.
Tantei leaned against the rough bamboo without looking, his attention fixed on Kanka. "What do you see?"
Kanka peered slightly again and saw the men's mutters, pulling his head back without being exposed.
Tantei's mouth was half-open, breathing tight and tense. "Where are they going, Kanka?"
Kanka carefully peeked out again, catching the men's low mutters, and instantly pulled his head back out of the line of sight.
Kanka turned his head slowly." They're walking to the other side."
He risked one last look to track their movement, seeing the first Bati stride away from their position,
but as the man passed the torchlight,
the Bati's head conveniently snapped their way.
Kanka pulled his head out of sight, his heart thrumming painfully against his ribs, his face pressed flat against the wall. "Oh boy. I think he saw me."
Tantei's brows widened, his eyes flashing with quiet panic. "You mean the guard?" He looked around wildly, his posture immediately shifted, ready for an erratic escape.
Kanka pinched his eyes shut tight, his knuckles white around his weapon. "No, no, no. This is a disaster."
Tambo, still low in the grass, saw the massive figure in the distance approaching the side of the palisade where the others hid.
"No," he uttered, the sound barely a breath.
His hand instantly found the thin reed trip-snap he had laid. He tapped the reed sharply: a soft, distinct snap that initiated a distant rustle, mimicking an animal that scattered the coconut trap.
The Bati was within inches close to spot the two brothers till his head snapped towards the path ahead; a distant series of low, deep, guttural sounds, repeatedly. He pulled away to the other.
The second Bati shrugged. "It's a wild boar."
The first guard's eyes narrowed, deep, piercing obsidian orbits, showing a sharp, glass-like reflection that made his stare feel heavy and permanent.
His brow were heavy and deeply furrowed, casting a permanent shadow over his eyes that made him look like he was constantly scanning for a threat, pausing at the sound.
"Hmm. It doesn't sound like one." He gave the sound a critical listen, then flicked his head dismissively. "I don't think so. It sounds like it forgot what noise it's supposed to make. Come on."
They both walked further down the narrow path way, their heavy steps sunk softly into the wet soil
Tantei looked, confirming the guards' retreat, then slapped Kanka firmly on the shoulder. "We have to move now! They can't get too far."
Kanka violently snapped his refusal from side to side, his breath caught in a gasp. "No. I change my mind. I never killed people before." The raw fear made the air taste like coastal salt and stale ash in his mouth.
Tantei moved in close, his face inches from Kanka's. His voice was compressed to a lethal whisper, the veins in his neck stood out like taut ropes of sennit fiber pulled to snapped tension. "Kanka, we have no time to brag about this. Do it now. Do you want to see Tolu get her head bashed in the morning? Do you?"
Kanka didn't shut his eyes. Instead, he fixed his brow in a tight, pained knot—a silent, desperate appeal against the awful necessity. His lips pressed together, unable to voice a denial.
Tantei's hand clamped down on Kanka's shoulder, a solid, painful anchor. "That's right. Now toughen up and let's finish this."
Kanka opened his eyes, the panic still evident, but now replaced by a grim, single-beat affirmation. He pulled his spine straight and gripped his weapons for an attack.
He moved like breath through tall grass — low, silent, deliberate.
The night pressed close around him, damp and heavy with the scent of salt and smoke.