Piccolo stared at the floor of the cart. After the meeting had adjourned, everything had happened in an entirely predictable sequence. The elders had kept him in a horse stall guarded by Kosh and Yash. His hands and feet were still tied together, of course. The two humans were not happy with the elders' preliminary decision, and they let him know. He noticed that Kosh didn't move his arm around a lot, and that there was a noticeable bulge about his shoulder. Maybe this was because of his bite? He'd tried to ask him, but the human was reluctant to talk, so he had just sat and waited for the night to be over.

After the day had begun, Rambaran announced that he wasn't a demon. Piccolo was semi-relieved; while he didn't think he was a demon, he was worried that he might match the description of one, or that Rambaran would screw something up, or that Yash would suddenly switch bodies with him and make the judgement himself. He was bemused now that he ever could have thought up something as strange as that, but he didn't have anything else to think about that night.

After that, the elder, whose name he still didn't know, brought up a donkey cart and Yash loaded him in. The cart set out on a wide dirt path, with Piccolo and the elder inside. And that brings me to where I am now, he observed. Now where am I going? Piccolo looked up. They were out of the clearing and in the forest again. The elder was sitting in a bench mounted on the front of the cart, facing the donkeys. The rising sun in the east rested on top of his head, making the top of his hair appear to glow. Piccolo shifted to point at the elder, but then reconsidered and brought his hand back down. I don't want to rock the boat here. I'll find out soon enough, and he might not like my question…. A few seconds later, the elder turned around. "What did you want to say?" he asked.

Piccolo blinked. I couldn't have made that much noise... "Oh, uh," he stammered.

"Get it out," he said.

"Well, uh, what's your name?" he asked. Should fool him, that's a reasonable question. Every human I've seen so far has had one… I think.

He paused for an uncomfortable few seconds and said, "My name is Subash. But are you sure that's what you wanted to ask?"

Piccolo slightly opened his mouth before closing it. He stiffened his posture. "Yes," he said.

"Very well," Subash replied.

The cart ride down the path for a few hours. Huh, I thought we would be here by now, Piccolo thought. Can't be that much further, though. Maybe Subash will know.

"Hey, Subash!" Piccolo said.

"What is it?"

"How much longer will it be until we're at Ranchetby's house?"

"Ranchhodbhai," said Subash, "and it won't be for a while. We'll get there tomorrow."

Piccolo boggled at him. "Really?"

"Yes. Ordinarily the trip is a lot shorter, but I really don't want to run into soldiers. If they find us, they'll take you away and either kill or enslave you," he said. "They'd probably take me too. I've got an alibi, but it probably wouldn't hold up, especially after they find out who I am," he said sullenly.

"Who are you, and why would 'soldiers' want you?" Piccolo asked.

Subash's jaws audibly snapped shut and didn't open again for hours. Piccolo tried for a few minutes to get him to answer, but his mouth stayed shut. After a few minutes of trying to get a comfortable seat in the bed of the cart, Piccolo took a seat on the edge and sat motionless for roughly two hours. By the time he got bored with meditating, the sun was high in the sky and both Piccolo and Subash were covered in sweat.

Piccolo brought his bound hands behind him and arched his back. He was starting to feel the hot sun. After two hours, his rags were drenched, his head felt light, and his legs felt like they had been chopped off at the buttocks. Or maybe that's just this damned seat, he thought. He brought his hands back over his head and rotated his torso. Right as he was stretching forward, the cart stopped and jettisoned him behind the donkey. This is only marginally better! The donkey kicked, but Piccolo rolled away from its leg and got up to a knee.

"Sorry! Are you alright?" Subash asked.

"Yes, I'm fine. Why'd we stop?" Piccolo asked.

"We're going to have lunch. I was going to help you out of the cart, but I guess that's not necessary now...," Subash said.

"It's good. I did that on my own, thank you very much," said Piccolo.

They sat down on a nearby boulder. "So, I've got chapatis and chikki. Have you ever had those?" Subash asked.

"No, I haven't," replied Piccolo, "and I won't today unless you untie my hands."

"Wait," he said.

"Go on."

Subash asked, "If I untie you, then what's stopping you from escaping?"

"One: We're in the middle of nowhere. Two: I'm tired of starving my way through this forest, and this Ranchodbai should have food. Three: my feet are still tied," Piccolo said. All of those are true. But I can't trust him. There will be food elsewhere.

"Well, alright," Subash said.

Subash handed out a large circular flatbread and a small ball of nuts to Piccolo. "We're having this because I don't want to make a fire. You see, this trail is supposed to be off-limits, which is why we haven't run into anyone so far. If we boiled water for rice, well, we'd have soldiers coming over to stick rifles up our asses," he said without pausing.

"Sorry, I talk when I'm nervous," he said.

Piccolo asked, "So, why is this trail off-limits?"

"It goes through Nepalese territory. The borders are closed, so all the trans-border trails were shut down a while ago," Subash said. He looked down and continued, "My cousin was arrested for crossing the border. This was during the first days of the closed border, you see. He was in a caravan going back from Nepal, and the entire caravan was arrested at the border. They deported the Nepalis, and jailed the rest for five years."

"Whoa," Piccolo said. "But if there are checkpoints on the border, then won't they find us?" he asked. He bit into the nut ball. It was chewy and sweet at the same time. Oh man, this is so much better than grass.

"They took the checkpoints off this trail last year. I guess they needed the troops for the Burma war, and they realized this trail doesn't go anywhere in Nepal." Subash said.

"Hmm. So why does Ranchhodbhai want me?" Piccolo asked before biting into the chapati draped across both of his hands.

Subash seemed to hesitate. Immediately after Piccolo finished his sentence, he put the ball of chikki in his mouth and chewed. Once he was finished, he said, "You're eating that wrong." Piccolo tilted his head up slightly. "See, when you eat these without anything else, it's best to roll them up. I mean, that's what I do," he said before he demonstrated his method.

Piccolo didn't wait for him to finish chewing. "That's not what I asked," he said.

Subash glared at him.

Piccolo rolled his chapati, took a bite, and looked deep into Subash's eyes. "Is it really that important that I don't know?" he asked.

"No reason you should know," Subash retorted.

Silence filled the air between the two. They stared intensely at each other for several seconds. Piccolo heard faint footsteps. His arm, but not any other body part, whipped to the side. Wait, do I still hear them? No, must have just been something falling. Stay cool, Piccolo. Suddenly, an observation came into his mind. Subash didn't even flinch when I did that. Is… Is this an opportunity to escape?

He examined his opponent's face. All of his features were trained on Piccolo, who tested his hypothesis by sliding his hand from his thigh to his knee. No reaction from Subash. Then he slowly slid it down his shin until his arm was fully extended. Can't get any further than that. But don't my arms extend? How did I…. Piccolo tried to reach the ropes binding his feet, but his claws were only able to sever a few fibers at the top. He thought back to the fight in the forest. I was hanging on for my life back there, but then I just stopped pulling. Yes, I just have to fully relax my arm.

Piccolo started to meditate, making sure to keep his eyes pointed into Subash's. With each second of complete relaxation, his arm pushed out a millimeter. After a couple of minutes, Piccolo decided it was time. He put his claws on the rope and started sawing. It was tough rope, but not harder than his claws. He increased the speed until he heard a noise. Did Subash just move? He stopped sawing and resumed staring with all of his might. After three widely-spaced blinks from Subash, Piccolo got back to work on the rope. And… There!

Piccolo screamed as his claws went through the last fibers of the rope and into his ankle. Subash snapped back into concentration and grabbed his other arm. Piccolo jumped off the rock, pulling Subash up with him.

He turned to face Subash and yank his arm out of Subash's hand, but he only succeeded in dragging his feet closer to Subash. Damn, this guy has a strong grip. Piccolo braced his feet on the rock and pulled harder, but Subash didn't budge. He then tried to pry his fingers loose, but Subash caught his hand. My injured leg is starting to feel light; I can't keep at this. Only one thing to do. Piccolo poured all of his energy into one last heave of his legs to propel himself off the rock, grabbed Subash's arms, and slammed both of his feet into Subash's face, splattering it with red and purple blood.

"Goatfucker!" Subash yelled as he put his hands on his face.

Piccolo bolted off into the forest.

Subash yelled, "My fucking eyes! I can't fucking see!"

Piccolo tripped on his injured leg.

"Piccolo, I'll fucking tell you what you want to fucking know! Just get here and fucking help me and my fucking face!"

Piccolo looked at his ankle. It was much worse than he had imagined. The blood left a purple trail from the rock to where he was now. When he thought of getting up and running away, all he could think of was a future of running, of fighting for survival every day, of starving. Possibly even of bleeding out. When I got him to unbind my hands… That wasn't an excuse, that was reality. I can't just leave him, not when I have something different ahead of me. But on the other hand, do I really want to just do what this man wants me to? My independence, my pride, will he actually forgive me?

"Come on, please!"

Ah, screw it. Piccolo got up and limped towards Subash. He examined his eyes. "Doesn't look like much, except for all the blood."

"Thank you," said Subash.

He took off his raggedy shirt and wiped his eyes clean. "For cleaning your eyes?" Piccolo asked. Subash blinked several times and flushed his cheeks. He had a few cuts and bruises on his forehead and near his mouth, but there was nothing major.

"No, although that was good too. Probably would have done it myself eventually, though," Subash said. "But what I actually wanted to thank you about is for coming back; oh Krishna that is a wound," he said. "Blind me again! But seriously, we need to do something about that. There are bandages in the cart," he said. He got some strips of cloth and tied them around Piccolo's ankle. Subash helped Piccolo into the cart before getting on the driving bench himself.

Subash stretched his neck and hands. "First, I should warn you about something: this is the short version. There are holes in the long story; I don't know the reasons for everything and all. See, Mitesh - that's Ranchhodbhai's real name - and I used to be in the army. Specifically, the Maratha Army. Then, the second English war happened. After we lost, my village came under Company rule, so I left the army. Same thing happened to Mitesh. We spent a few years at ground in our separate villages, but eventually we were both contacted by a Maratha spy ring."

"So, I and Mitesh were both working for the spy ring, right? We both moved to Delhi to report on troop movements and such. Eventually, we learned that we were each doing the same thing. Still not sure why, but we were. So we worked together for the next decade. We had a few subordinates, and we made quite a lot of money. But then when the third English war happened, the Marathas were conquered and we were discovered. When we got the news that we had lost the war, Mitesh and I tried to flee. I was arrested at the Punjabi border, and Mitesh escaped to Siam via Ahmadabad."

"I was put in jail for ten years, but escaped after two. I settled in this village after collecting some old debts. I adopted a fake name, Krishan, and a fake history to go with it. If you ever come across anyone from my village, call me that. Two years ago, Mitesh came back from Siam. Now he's working with some Punjabis. I'm not really involved with what he's doing, but I do keep in touch with him, so I know that he needs some people to help him with… whatever he does. I don't know, and I honestly don't want to."

"So, the reason why soldiers are after us is because I'm a fugitive," Subash finished.

Piccolo nodded. "Interesting," he said.

Piccolo and Subash rode until sunset. They didn't talk to each other much; Piccolo spent most of the trip meditating and Subash avoided long conversations while he wasn't. He did learn that Subash was unmarried, he had had some dalliances while in the Maratha army, and his father and two aunts were dead. When the sun was low on the horizon, they stopped at a boiling spring.

"How do you like it, huh?" Subash said. "We're going to make a low fire to boil water for rice. The steam from the spring should disguise the smoke from the fire," he said nervously. They built and tended the fire together, Piccolo gathering sticks from the forest while Subash assembled the fire and kept it going. After a few minutes, Subash set up a small pot of water over the fire and put rice in it.

At sunset, Subash yelled, "You can stop now; we've got a pretty good stockpile of sticks here."

Piccolo came back to the fire and sat down. "I just have a question to ask," he said.

"What's the question?"

"How come you didn't tie me back up again?"

"Well, I thought about it, but I decided not to. You see," Subash chuckled, "I…."

CRACK!

A bullet smacked Subash in the chest, laying him out next to the fire. Piccolo got up to his knees, his mouth agape.

CRACK!

Another bullet passed in front of Piccolo's eyes before winging his cheek. Piccolo roared in pain and anger. Piccolo stood up and frantically looked around. There they are. In a bush to his left, a poorly hidden human and a satyr were abandoning their muskets and pulling out knives. Piccolo pounced on the satyr. It braced itself and socked Piccolo in the jaw as he leaped. Piccolo grabbed both of its arms and slammed them on the ground before biting his chest. It screamed. The human tried to stab Piccolo in the back, but Piccolo rolled out of the knife's path. Now on top, the satyr unsuccessfully headbutted Piccolo. Piccolo lifted the satyr by the chest with his teeth and dropped him on the ground. The human stabbed again, but Piccolo rolled and tackled his legs. The human fell to the ground, and Piccolo slashed his stomach. A shot rang out. Piccolo dove away from the human and satyr. All three of them looked to the direction of the shot, and all three were surprised to see an unharmed Subash pointing his pistol at them.

"Go away!" Subash screamed.

The shooters scattered.

Piccolo stared at him. "What was that?" he asked. He wiped some blood from his face and asked again.

"Something I learned in the army," Subash said. He glanced at the forest. He calmly continued, "There's a good chance they'll come back with more men. Pour out the water and take the rice. I'll put out the fire. We're going to pack up and get to Mitesh's over the night. We'll eat in the cart. Complete silence, got it?"

Piccolo followed his orders and got in the cart. Twilight set over the land, turning the hot spring into nothing more than a haze rising from the ground. I really need to find out what Subash just did there.

Sorry for the last upload. I apparently uploaded it incorrectly, and I will try to avoid making those kind of mistakes in the future.

-Klarkakent