His eyes wandered towards the fields and a look of surprise lit Rejji’s face as he saw the scraggly clova still in the fields. The bandits had not even taken their booty. Why then the violence? It made no sense. Rejji rose, grabbing some small pebbles as he did. As Rejji pondered the attack he tossed the pebbles with increasing vigor, as if his body needed some way to react while his mind sought answers. But there were no answers coming to Rejji and his thoughts turned to what he must do for the villagers now that they were dead. It would be a long day of burials he thought as he tossed the remaining pebbles into the well.

Rejji heard several thuds from the pebbles and a grunt and he swiftly wheeled and grabbed the metal ladle.

“Who are you?” demanded Rejji, as he stood menacingly by the lip of the well with ladle ready to swing.

“Who are you?” returned a young female voice.

Rejji’s emotions were torn by fear of one of the bandits left behind and concern that someone was stuck in the well with no way out. The female voice tended to lead him towards the latter, but he knew she was not a villager.

“Can you get out of the well?” queried Rejji.

“I can,” assured the girl’s voice, “but I won’t until I know who you are.”

“I am Rejji,” he stated. “I live in this village and you don’t. Now come out before I fill the well with dirt.”

“You would just get tired,” answered the girl. “You certainly can’t shovel in dirt faster than I can climb on top of it and you would just spoil your well. Move away from the well and I will come up.”

“And run away no doubt,” scowled Rejji. “I don’t think so. You will come up slowly so I can see who you are and what you have in your hands.”