Chapter 3: The Wrong Gauls
Without looking back even once, Fakir Antantos and Fukur Salamantan finally found themselves far away from the Village of the Brave Resistance.
They had been walking for hours.
Their feet were covered in blisters.
Their clothes smelled of mud, hay, and pigs.
And to make matters worse, their mission had been a complete failure.
Fukur sat down on a large rock.
The pain from the wooden dummy head that had struck him earlier still hadn’t faded.
“We are officially the worst spies in the world.”
he muttered.
Just then, a familiar sound echoed through the forest.
Grrrrrrrr…
Fakir Antantos’s stomach was once again performing its famous hunger march.
Fakir looked around.
He had absolutely no idea how to find food.
So, as always, he looked at Fukur.
And, as always, Fukur had no solution either.
The two continued walking hopelessly until Fakir noticed a thin column of smoke rising in the distance.
He immediately jumped to his feet.
“Fukur! Smoke from a fire!”
Fukur raised his head.
“So?”
“People make fires!”
“What an incredible discovery.”
“That means there are people over there!”
Fukur thought for a few seconds.
Then he stood up.
“You know… this time you might actually be right.”
So they began walking toward the smoke.
As they got closer, they heard drums.
Then laughter.
Then music.
And finally, they saw a large camp.
Around fifteen warriors were gathered around a bonfire, celebrating.
At first glance, they looked like Gauls.
But they looked nothing like the people from the Village of the Brave Resistance.
They looked tougher.
More heavily armed.
And definitely far more dangerous.
A bad feeling crept into Fukur’s mind.
“Antantos… don’t make a sound.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t shout.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t draw attention to us.”
“Okay.”
Fukur turned around.
At that exact moment, Antantos cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled:
“HEY, GAUL FRIENDS! WE COME FROM THE VILLAGE OF THE BRAVE RESISTANCE!”
Silence.
The drums stopped.
The music ended.
All fifteen warriors turned and stared at them.
Fukur closed his eyes.
“Why am I not surprised?”
he whispered.
But the attack they expected never came.
Instead…
Huge smiles appeared on the warriors’ faces.
They began looking at one another.
Their leader stood up.
“You come from the Village of the Brave Resistance?”
Antantos proudly puffed out his chest.
“Yes!”
Meanwhile, Fukur had already begun praying internally.
Because there was something he didn’t know.
These warriors were not allies of the Village of the Brave Resistance.
They were a rival Gaul tribe.
And that very night, they were planning to attack the village.
The leader smiled slyly.
“The gods are helping us today.”
“What nice people.”
said Antantos.
Fukur, however, shivered when he saw the expression on the leader’s face.
The warriors welcomed them like honored guests and invited them to sit by the fire.
They served them food.
They gave them drinks.
For the first time in his life, Fakir believed a mission was actually going well.
But there was one thing they didn’t know.
The tribe’s battle plan now contained a new item:
“Use the two foolish soldiers as living shields.”
And at that very moment, the leader was pointing at the Village of the Brave Resistance on a map.
However, standing near the entrance of the tent, Fukur’s eyes accidentally drifted toward the map.
And for the first time in his life…
He noticed something truly important.
Perhaps the intelligence they had been searching for all along…
Was right in front of them.
To Be Continued…
