Tribal Dawn: Mordufa: Volume Three Read online

  Subira glanced at the fire. Nothing was baking nor had anything been cooked for morning breakfast. Everything from the previous night was piled in a bucket of cold water, grains still stuck to wooden bowls. A dreadful instinct teased her stomach. She tugged on her father’s arm. “Father?”

  He grunted.

  “Father?” She prodded again, voice breaking. He flickered his eyes. “Mother isn’t here. Where is she?”

  “What?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Probably working, Subira.”

  “But she’s never worked on my Leraawla. Never.” She rolled her eyes when he turned around and readjusted. She took a step back and went to Nuru’s room. Tapping on the door, she whispered, “Nuru? Are you there? Mother isn’t here.” No one replied. She pushed it open.

  Bone and wood weapons decorated Nuru’s tiny room. A fur tapestry hung above his low hay bed. The shabby blanket was untouched. Subira’s golden eyes glazed. She shook her head and ran to Karasi’s room. Her clothing was a jumbled mess on the ground. Dolls and toys she played with when she was younger were lined at the edge of the room. Her bed hadn’t been touched.

  Subira breathed heavily. She ran to Preye and yanked his arm, hitting and punching him. “Father, wake up! They’re gone!”

  Preye focused properly and sat forward, putting his head in his hands. “Subira, calm down. Probably gone to get a surprise.”

  “But no breakfast has been eaten.” She pointed at the pots and pans. “They’re not here!”

  He looked at the unused fire, furrowing his eyebrows together. “Tell you what, we’ll go search for them. Sure it’s nothing.”

  She wiped away her tears and sniffed. Reluctantly, she put on her coat and before her father was ready, dashed out the door. Men and women swore at her to get some manners and insulted her as she squeezed and barged through. She didn’t care; her instincts told her something was wrong.

  Subira ran to the farmers’ fields, where her mother worked this time of year. The wheat and grains towered over her, giving her no clear view. Morning workers holding baskets disappeared into the golden sea. Carts half-filled with harvest rested at the perimeter gate. A guard at the fence was writing down names, allowing workers into the wheat. She ran past, but his arm hauled her back.

  “Woah there, little one. You’ve got to be thirteen to work here.”

  “I need to find my mother,” Subira said urgently. She tried to duck under his arm. He threw her back.

  “I’m sure she’ll return after work.”

  Subira shook her head and tears filled her eyes. Her nose was damp, voice muffled behind her hands. “Have you seen her? It’s my Leraawla, and she didn’t wake me up.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Maha, she’s bound to Preye.” The man uneasily shuffled. “My brother and sister are gone too. It’s not like them to disappear.”

  The guard straightened his cloth chestpiece and glanced side to side. He knelt down to her level. “I don’t think she’s in here, little one. I think it’s best you go home.”

  Subira narrowed her eyes and stared at the endless waves of grain behind. “No, I need to find her. We’re making a cake.”

  “Listen.” He placed a firm hand on her shoulder and gave her a patronising look. “She isn’t in here. Why don’t you go home, play with your dolls, and I’m sure she’ll turn up.”

  Subira frowned and headbutted his nose. He let go, screaming. She ran into the field. Stalks poked through her sandals and tangled her hair, pulling back when she went forward or turning her around, disorientating her. Women yelled when she jumped up, calling for her mother. The guard was shouting not far behind. She sped up and fell silent, pretending she was a predator stalking the bushes. With every pounce, her heart hoped she was going to catch her mother. Instead, it was another stranger, dropping their morning’s work, confused.

  She parted the grains to see the sky. Sun Solianga bloomed brightly, though hidden by puffy grey clouds, threatening rain. She held her dress and headed out of the maze, climbing over a fence and exiting closer to the central area of the tribe. People rushed past, getting on with their day. She wanted to scream her mother’s name as a last resort. As she readied to do so, she spotted the boys her brother hung around lurking by the dancing area, speaking to the girls and daring each other to go up to them.

  Subira approached and cleared her throat. They had their backs turned. A bunch of misfits, different colours, shapes and sizes. She tapped the arm of the closest.

  “What do you want?” he spat.

  Subira wiped her cheek and blinked. “I was wondering if you have seen my mother, Nuru or Karasi. Today is my tenth Leraawla, and they’re nowhere to be seen.”

  The boy shrugged her off. Another with ebony skin and a weak Aqua accent turned around. “If we see your sister, we will let you know.” They shared a mischievous grin. Subira tilted her head and barged to the centre of the group.

  “Please do. I’m really worried. Look out for my mother, Maha and Nuru, too. I know you’re friends with him.”

  “Friends?!” one sporting a black eye and bandages piped up. “He’s beaten half of us up ‘cause your sister doesn’t wear any underwear.” Another laugh, only this time she knew it was with ill intent.

  “Excuse me, Mr Black-eye-and-bandages, but if you’re weak in battle, I highly doubt my sister would have had any interest in you whatsoever. And if she did, you’d discover that she does wear underwear.” She spun on her heels and went to walk away. They blocked the exit.

  “We should check to see if this one wears any,” one of the taller boys said, gripping her shoulder.

  Subira looked at him. She wanted to cry and clutch her mother’s robes more than anything in the world. Gut instincts flared and got her blood pumping. The bruised boys grinned menacingly, surrounding her. The only action that came to her was to drop to the floor and hug her knees. This was meant to be a happy day. She had been excited to turn ten for weeks, and now it was ruined. Sobbing, she rocked back and forth. The boys laughed and tried to grab her legs.

  “Subira!” The voice of her father stifled the chuckling. The gang quickly parted to let him through. She peeked at Preye but wouldn’t move. One of the gang muttered something incoherent. The heavy thud of a fist cracking bone forced her to gasp. Mr Black-eye-and-bandages was lying on the ground, clutching a bloodied nose. Her father scrunched his fingers. “What you doing here?”

  “I searched for Mother in the fields, and when she wasn’t there, I came here to find Nuru or Kara. They’re not here, Father.” Her voice broke, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Subira hid beneath it and sniffed. “I’m not going mad, am I?”

  Preye itched his chin. “Must be somewhere. Can’t just disappear.” He lifted her and grabbed her hand. “We’ll search the stalls and speak to a guard.”

  Subira tucked behind him, and they searched for any sign or anyone who’d know. As the places left to search grew fewer and fewer, his face was became ashen with worry.

  A guard beside an unlit torch, wearing cloth armour and a leather helm that was tight on his large head, watched them. Spear in hand, jittery.

  “You know where my mate and my two children, Nuru and Karasi Astari are?” Preye asked.

  The guard guiltily glanced at Subira before he turned to her father. “I can’t help you, Preye.”

  Her father frowned and pointed to the Chief’s hut. “They in there?”

  “No.”

  “Where the hell—” Preye began. His paleness peaked as it dawned on him. He shook his head slowly, let go of Subira and took several steps back. Resting both hands on his head, he stared around him.

  “Do you know where they are, Father?” Subira tugged his hand.

  He gripped her firmly, ignoring the question. “I need to see Yissia.”

  The warrior didn’t argue and pitifully bowed his head in the Chief’s hut direction. “I think it’d be wise the child didn’t go with you.”

  “Who th
e fuck is meant to look after her?” Preye spat and pulled Subira by his side up the hill.

  Subira jogged to keep up. “What’s happened? You don’t think the men in the night have got them, do you?” she stammered, fearing the thought. Since she and Karasi had started dancing, her parents warned her of men who lurked in shadowy corners at twilight hours, waiting for dancers to be alone. Tears stung her eyes, believing they were going to the area where the dead bodies and creepy death dancers were kept to name her family. Her father’s silence cemented the thought.

  When they got to the door, the warriors didn’t question why Preye was there. They let him through and informed him that Yissia would call when he was free. Preye pulled out a chair for Subira and himself. He was tense, head in hands. They waited and were served bread and water by the cooks. Preye pushed his away. Subira nibbled. She was used to eating a breakfast every morning cooked by her mother, either stew, vegetables or soup, and hadn’t noticed how hungry she was.

  Preye pulled his hand away from his mouth. “Don’t think they’re dead.” There was a hint of uncertainty in his tone. Of course, Subira didn’t know what he wanted to say was that he didn’t believe Dia had killed Masika or her siblings yet.

  She snapped out of her daydream, eyes sparkling bright. “Then where have they gone?”

  He wanted to tell. It was killing him not to. The truth of his suspicions would reveal the reality that he wasn’t her father. “We’ll find out.” As he said the words, Yissia’s door opened, and a guard ushered him in.

  Subira stared blankly at the door, pondering. How could three people disappear in the night? There were guards and people, someone must have known where they were. A sword on the wall wrapped in a beige tapestry beside a finger painting of the Chief before Yissia drew her attention. Nuru had told her he was killed in an unfair duel by the then-Chief of Blood-and-Shadow, Kiume, father of Jasari, who visited for trade. When he was denied, he took his anger out on the Sky-and-White Chieftain, torturing him to death before his followers.

  She slid off the chair and slipped between rickety tables to view the wall decorations. Maps of Vuunis, hand painted, showed the tribal capitals of the world in lettering she didn’t understand. Being taught to read and write was an extravagance in such an overpopulated tribe. Her mother had taught her some letters, enough to form basic words but not looped sentences and twirled paragraphs like these. On the other side of the sword, the chart of Yissia’s father hung. Lines, animals, stars and dots drawn in gold, the star-callers charts were something that had always fascinated Subira for their artwork alone.

  Karasi went through a phase of studying the constellations. She told Subira that being born under a tainted lioness meant she would never be bound and would be killed before the age of fifteen for being stupid like lionesses were. Subira wept for days and couldn’t sleep. Masika took her to a star-caller and spent her week’s wages to get a reading. The woman in mulberry-purple robes read the creation and a moon and a half later, after sending it to the Moon tribe elders for clarification, they said she wouldn’t die before she was fifteen like Karasi predicted. It was not their place to say when the stars showed it would happen. Masika kept the rest of the letter from her. When Subira was out of earshot, she asked her own questions about her future. It said there was a greater chance she would get a mate. Lions being as rare as they were, they kept track of those born one to study. Subira was aligned with two lions, both of whom were sons of Chiefs. Masika wasn’t told their names, or blood. It was impossible to get an opportunity to meet them, and even if Subira did, she was more likely to be overwhelmed with lust were less, discouraging Masika from asking further.

  “We’re going home.” Preye stormed out of the door, grabbing Subira before she could speak, and nearly broke into a run.

  Her wrist ached, and when she looked at her father, she could see he had been crying. Her sadness grew the further they got away. She tried to keep up with his pace, remaining silent.

  Instead of going in a straight line, Preye stopped at the centre of the village. He took out a couple of coins with his teeth and dragged Subira towards the inn.

  Shady characters she’d seen before hid in clouds of smoke from the herbs they lit. A couple laughed at nothing and fell forward. Some older women wearing revealing clothes made crude comments to Preye. He shoved passed and barged into the inn, the door nearly hitting Subira in the face.

  She stayed close and coughed, barely able to see for the fog of smoke. Harsh, belting laughs made her uncomfortable and jump when they erupted from dingy corners of the room. Crushed berries, hops and fruits gave the air a sickly aroma. Silhouettes of people emerged to reveal pot-bellies and shining red noses. In glimmers of candlelight or the cracks in the ceiling, their skins had a tinge of yellow.

  Preye got to the bar and slammed his coins down. The woman serving, with lopsided makeup and unkempt, thin brown hair, shoved his drink down with a similar attitude. He grunted over the shouts and got back outside.

  Subira stared at the brown bottle and tugged on his sleeve. “Mother said you can’t have that.”

  “Mother isn’t here,” he snapped, using his teeth to pull the cork and take a swig. Eyes closed and gasping after those first gulps, he looked like a man satisfying a dire craving. He savoured the taste and carried on to their home.

  When they got inside, he dropped into the rocking chair and cradled his bottle like it was his long-lost child. Subira stood uneasily by the door. “When is Mother coming back?”

  “She isn’t.”

  Her lip quivered. She wanted to cry, but seeing her father hugging that stuff made it difficult for her to let it out. She knelt and picked up the clothes, folding them away. “I’m going to tidy for when they return.”

  “Subira,” he said sternly. He waited for her to stop, clothes piled high on her arm, “Your mother, Nuru and Karasi have left.”

  “I don’t believe that. Mother wouldn’t leave me.”

  “They’re not coming back.”

  Subira shook her head and put the clothes on each of the beds before returning to the living area. “You shouldn’t drink that stuff.” She grabbed the bottle. “Mother sa—”

  Preye growled and backhanded her. “YOUR MOTHER HAS FUCKING GONE!”

  Subira slipped back and banged her head against the wall. Her father was red in the face, clutching the bottle. Fear, unlike any she had ever had before, tingled in her toes. She chewed her fingers and scurried to her mother’s room. Before Preye could open the door, she shoved a chair beneath the handle, found her mother’s robes and curled up on the bed.

  “Subira, I’m sorry!” he called, choked. She heard a thump and guessed he was sitting outside. “Shock for me, too. Don’t want you getting your hopes up.”

  She cried into the pillow and took in every last trace of her mother’s scent, never wanting to let it go. Her eyes squeezed shut and her hands grabbed the blankets as if making a body to hug. If they had died, at least she’d know where they had disappeared to. But they hadn’t. They had left alive. Maybe her mother never loved her. Why else would she and her siblings leave, especially on a day like today?

  - CHAPTER SIXTEEN -

  For the first half of the journey, Sky-and-White guards escorted Masika, Nuru and Karasi. To keep them weak, they were fed a minimum of dry, mouldy bread baked with sleeping herbs. It left them just enough energy to walk unsupported. Their ropes were tightened each night to burn their skin red during the day. It was time for the Sky guards to leave and the rest of the Blood-and-Shadow warriors to meet them.

  Several times a day, Nuru and the warriors scrapped. His torso was black and blue from beatings for his escape attempts. Karasi and Masika were hit viciously and dragged around, soil smearing their faces, barely conscious. Trees blurred, the rough ground raked their backs, their clothing reeked of bodily fluids.

  The Shadow warriors didn’t have any herbs. The three were bundled into a cart of cages drawn by four women wearing leashes. When they
came round, Masika checked for loose bars. These were metal, unlike the stick ones she remembered. Dia must have made this purchase specially.

  The clustered jungle trees were familiar. Paths seared by war roughly three decades ago were visible to those who’d witnessed the destruction, despite the overgrowth. Masika was in a ball, whispering for a miracle. The energy to escape was gone. She could only pray.

  Regaining feeling in her arms and legs, Masika checked the secret pouch sewn into her underwear. A decade ago, when she arrived at Sky-and-White, a fellow farmer told her of a passing witch doctor, cradling an infant, not long after Jasari’s war. He was searching for a star-caller for his ‘grandson’. Witch doctor Inari, the man to whom she’d entrusted the life of her son, matched the description and timing. She begged the woman for more information. The stranger shared the boy’s cursed chart. She advised the doctor to take him north where he’d be best suited to train in the life of a cultist, a thief or a killer. He was never destined for normality.

  Masika took the chart and to this day had kept it safe. Every winter on the anniversary of the war and her son’s birth, she took some private time, unrolled the chart and inspected it as if she understood it as clearly as a star-caller. The markings were events in his life, and if she didn’t understand them, he could be alive. His memory was too precious for her to ever share it with Preye or her children.

  Before she escaped the Blood-and-Shadow, Dia sent search parties after Inari, unbeknownst to her. He had been spotted fleeing the war zone, travelling the land, caring for an infant. When they found him, he was beaten and trapped in a cage like they were now, only his was simple wood. Inari was weak and frail by the time they got back to the village. He wasn’t a threat, even if he did acquire a sudden taste for violence. He whispered to Masika that her son was dead, words that haunted her until she met the ex-star-caller in Sky-and-White. Before she could ask him questions, Dia murdered him before her eyes. That broke her out of her everyday life of a breeding mate, trapped in Dia’s hut. It gave her the courage to escape.