Read Sebastian Darke: Prince of Explorers for Free Online

waiting for the next one.
     
The women of the tribe seemed to be at work of some kind every hour of the day. They were scraping hides to make clothes, washing them in the stream that meandered a short distance from the village, fetching firewood or searching for edible roots in the jungle. They seemed to accept the work with quiet good humour and Sebastian never saw any looking disgruntled with their role in life.
     
The children were everywhere, running around in laughing, yelling gangs, playing with their home-made toys or chasing one of the many mutts that seemed to hang around the village. The older boys trailed after the hunting parties to learn the skills that would take them through to adulthood.
     
Sebastian would sit on a log by the entrance to his hut, sipping a cup of chai, the spicy green tea the villagers loved to make, and he would marvel at the wonderful community spirit that seemed to radiate from these people. They had never seen the wonders of cities like Ramalat and Keladon, but they had riches that money could not buy – an affinity with the land in which they lived. As far as Sebastian could see, they had no kind of currency, but seemed to share whatever they had, as though they had no notion of greed or any wish to acquire material possessions.
     
Most afternoons, Sebastian sat beside Max and the two of them watched as 'General' Cornelius put his troops through their paces. The Jilith tended to fight as individuals, but he had told them that if they wished to vanquish the Gograth, they would have to learn to work as a team. To help them with this, he had introduced them to a game that was popular in Golmira. A piece of animal hide was stuffed with straw and stitched into a ball. Two teams of warriors kicked the ball backwards and forwards, trying to get it through two upright sticks at each end of a clearing. One warrior was assigned to defend the opening and was allowed to touch the ball with his hands – the others could only use their feet.
     
'Does this game have a name?' Sebastian asked Cornelius one afternoon.
     
The little warrior thought for a moment. 'It's called kick-the-ball ,' he said.
     
'Wouldn't football be a better name?' asked Max. 'It has a certain ring to it, does it not?'
     
Cornelius bristled. 'It's called kick-the-ball,' he repeated firmly. 'It has been played in Golmira for centuries. There are ancient cave paintings showing warriors kicking a ball, all dressed in brightly coloured clothing, with numbers written on their chests.'
     
'It looks like fun,' said Sebastian. 'Maybe I'll take a turn at it myself when I'm a bit stronger.'
     
'It seems completely mindless to me,' observed Max disparagingly. 'Kicking a lump of hide around a field – where's the skill in that?' He nodded his head towards the straggle of running, shouting warriors on the pitch. 'They're half killing each other out there.'
     
Cornelius smiled. 'Yes, but they're starting to think as teams,' he said. 'Let's hope they do as well when they face up to the Gograth.'
     
As one day blended into another, Sebastian rapidly grew stronger. Soon he was able to go on short walks around the village without struggling for breath and every day saw a marked improvement. All that was left of his close brush with death was a livid scar, and a dull pain in his chest whenever he brandished a sword. He began to train with the weapon for a short time each day, aware that before very much longer he might be called upon to face up to the Gograth once again.
     
Then, one morning, Keera arrived with an invitation. She told them that her father, Maccan, the village chief, had decided that it was finally time to meet the Chosen One face to face.
     
'He bids you come to his hut tomorrow,' she told them. 'There will be a great feast in your honour.'
     
At this news, Max brightened considerably. 'A feast,' he said. 'Lovely. What's on the menu?'
     
Cornelius gave him a sly look. 'Let's just hope it's not buffalope steaks,' he