Tribal Dawn: Mordufa: Volume Three Page 27

  Zura was strolling home when the sound of horses turned her head. She spun around and saw a thin figure, one she recognised. Gasping, she ran down the path and tightly squeezed her brother. “Chika! You’ve come back!”

  He recoiled. Reluctantly, he patted her. “Yes. I told you I was returning.” He looked at the upturned nose of the skinny woman riding with him. His mate, Rozi, thought herself better than anyone else and despite living in the Blood-and-White tribe for ten years, insisted on wearing the emeralds of the Grass tribe.

  “I need to see someone,” Rozi huffed, climbing from her mount.

  “Then go see them,” Chika snarled. He waited until she was out of sight before he hooked his arm with his sisters. “She’s been foul the entire journey.”

  “You always think she’s foul!” Zura giggled. “I didn’t believe that you’d come home! You’ve missed so much, Chika.”

  “Oh?” He peered at the tribe, unimpressed. “Everything looks the same to me.”

  “Not with the tribe! Guess what I did?”

  “What?”

  “I was escorted to the point of Luaani and Solianga! And I didn’t panic!” She proudly beamed.

  “I suppose that is good for a recluse.” He patted her arm. “How many men did it take to get you there?”

  “Only one. An Inferno man arrived some moons ago, but he’s leaving soon.” She gazed at Vakaar’s hut and swallowed. Not wanting Chika to make assumptions like her parents, she forced a smile. “How was the Moon tribe?”

  “It was how I expected. Freezing. There were a lot of bandits on the road. I believe we were caught up in the middle of a war,” Chika said casually.

  “That sounds terrifying! You weren’t wounded, were you?”

  “No, though I pushed Rozi into their sights. Unfortunately, they were rubbish aims…” He dismissed the thought and grimaced. “Here she comes, back again.”

  Before Zura could move out of the way, Rozi barged into her, nose up in the air and arms crossed.

  Zura rubbed her shoulder. “Who the hell do you think you are pushing me like that?”

  Rozi’s eyes protruded. “I’ve just found out a dearest friend of mine died. Excuse me if my graces aren’t at their best.” She tugged on Chika’s arm. “Come, we’re going to bed.”

  Chika pushed her off and shooed, “No you go. I’m talking to my sister. I have no care for your friends. I’m sure you’ll want to be on your own during this difficult time.”

  Zura looked at her feet, wanting to be anywhere else but in the middle of the tension between them. A pang of guilt churned in her stomach. Wamia’s farm was the direction Rozi had come from. He had been found by his daughters in the chicken coop in the early hours. They believed he slipped and his heart broke from the shock and cold weather. Rozi huffed, ruffled her dress and disappeared towards her hut.

  “That was a bit harsh, Chika,” Zura whispered.

  “If you knew her, you’d realise it wasn’t.” The pair stood by the torches beside the Chieftain’s hut. “Anyway, I received this.” He took out a thin scroll and handed it over. “I’m officially a star-caller.”

  Zura carefully took off the azure ribbon and unwrapped the thick parchment. The writing was set in gold and silver inks. “This is incredible, Chika. Did you learn more about charts, too?”

  “Yes, I did.” His lips curved slightly at the corners. “I learnt more about each of us.”

  “Tell me!” she urged, handing him back the paper.

  Chika delicately wrapped his title. “I can’t tell you, little sister. You’ll have to wait.” He eyed the front door and tapped his chin. “Has Tau returned?”

  “Not that I’m aware of, why?”

  “Oh, then I’m probably wrong in what I thought I saw.” Chika sighed and nudged the door to let Zura pass under his arm. “I guess I didn’t learn anything new.”

  “What did you see with Tau?”

  “Nothing much.” He yawned and headed towards his room next to his sister’s. “Other than the war he’s in is pulling for change. I read it as bringing him home, dead or alive. It wasn’t the first thing I was wrong about with these new teachings. Guess I’ll go back to what I already knew. What a waste of a trip.”

  “Wait, Chika, what else did you see?”

  “Things that can’t possibly happen.” He shrugged. “A lot of darkness, death and things that plain didn’t make sense with common sense. People who I know to be dead in our charts coming close to our home… If truth be told, a part of me felt guilty if it was happening. Otherwise, I would’ve stayed another moon.”

  Zura hugged her brother and wished him goodnight. She wanted to tell him he was right about Mordufa’s child living amongst their people and that, because of him, justice had been served. Instead, she’d be forced to pretend everything was normal and that those bastards died naturally. If she told Chika about Vakaar, he wouldn’t want him in the tribe. He’d tell everyone who he was and she’d never see him again.

  - CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT -

  When Karasi was told the death of her mother, she was uncontrollably hysterical, screaming and attacking everyone. Nuru was covered in scratches and cuts. The two garasums in the room pleaded for her to be quiet. Eventually, Nuru threw her into the bedroom and waited until she’d sobbed her eyes dry. She stared into space and didn’t respond to anyone except in simple mutters and murmurs.

  Nuru didn’t let Dia know what he saw. He was convinced the two guards had already told him considering he hadn’t seen the regulars patrolling since. His father’s visits were less frequent, and his words were made too simplistic by the heavy pride of his blood. He didn’t want to be near his son. The seed of a tyrant felt guilty about something.

  Umbu took over the duties as garasum. When she arrived with food, they were monitored. After the door was locked, the silhouettes of warriors on the other side, ears to the wood, were obvious. It took weeks for them to pay no care to their conversations.

  The garasum was heavily pregnant and about to drop any day. Her beatings had lessened, but her swollen stomach was causing her issues. Nuru discussed the plan over scraps of meat, unsure of its reliability. It wasn’t anything smart, sneaky or majestic. It was simple. Get a weapon and charge out, killing every guard on the way. The open back was too well guarded, but the front gate was held by a simple rope.

  They came to the agreement that the spring nights were their best chance to get out alive. Most would be busy sowing crops and helping to carry crates and barrels to the stalls. By nightfall, they’d sleep through any disturbance.

  Nuru sat opposite his sister. His bags were packed and hidden in the living area. Umbu had provided him with a dull knife from the kitchens. It was about as much as any of them could get access to. Karasi clung to her blanket, weeping the days away. He hadn’t told her of the plan. He didn’t trust her not to break if anyone came into their quarters. They’d been lucky no one had tried so far.

  Tonight was the night. Warriors paced the corridors, and soon Umbu would arrive. Chewing his lip, he dragged a chair to Karasi’s bedside and tapped her shoulder. “Kara?”

  She moved and looked at him, eyes red and dry.

  “This is going to sound insane.” He ran his hand through his curls and thought about the words. Even in his mind, it seemed like madness. “We can’t stay here. I’ve got a plan to get us out.”

  Karasi furrowed her brow and slowly rose. “How?”

  “I’ve been getting help and supplies from a garasum. I have a bag containing enough for three of us for a few days. Then, we should be able to hunt. Once we can do that, we’ll find a way to reach our uncle.” He nodded. He had to show confidence in the outcome.

  “Our quarters are locked. How are we getting out of here?”

  “Alright, this is going to sound crazy, but you have to trust me.” Nuru grabbed her hand and gazed into her eyes, attempting to share his hope. “When the garasum comes, we’re going to take the opportunity to run.”

  She gave
a mocking laugh. “Are you serious?”

  Nuru pulled her back, hand jittery. Was he serious? There were hundreds of fully-grown men, both savage torturers and victims who might not react to something as common as a stab wound. “Yes. I have a weapon. You’re going to stay behind me with Umbu. I’m going to hack at whoever I can. We’ll pick up fallen weapons and get out of here.”

  “It’s a death sentence.”

  “So is living here, Kara. We’re not safe. Mother is gone. That man isn’t our fucking father. Preye is our father, and Subira is our sister. We’re going to get out of here, and it’s going to be soon.” Nuru rubbed his knees and uneasily rolled his neck side to side. “I’ve packed everything we’re going to need. You only need to follow what I say.”

  Karasi opened her mouth. Someone entered the living quarters. The siblings saw Umbu balancing a tray on her arm. She was sickly but every bruise was another hit of assurance. When the door shut, she placed their bowls down and paced.

  They sat together, eating in silence. The warriors didn’t lurk at the door. Everything was quiet but for spoons dipping in stew. Umbu smiled and rubbed her stomach. She glanced at the hidden supplies in the corner barrel. Nuru nodded. Karasi chewed her nails, nerves riddling her.

  When the bowls were empty, Umbu stood ready. Nuru gazed at Karasi and took her hand. “We need to get out of here, Kara. I promise we will.”

  Karasi’s lip quivered. She took shaky breaths, not daring to look at the door. “And we run to our blood?”

  They waited. Nuru picked up the pack. He took out the blunt knife and caught the handprints on the wall. Memories of his mother sunk his heart. Maybe he shouldn’t be hasty. This was going to kill him. Could his soul live without knowing what happened to the woman who suffered to keep him alive?

  Umbu waited by the door. Nuru inhaled the nightmares. The way they grabbed his mother, the things they did to her when she was a child. What Jasari did and then, when she thought it was over, Dia. He was meant to protect them. He couldn’t prevent his men in their ruined leathers forcing themselves on his daughter while she begged them to stop. The rage reached its peak. Before his eyes, colourful spots and dizziness. He didn’t have to signal to Umbu.

  “Alright, I’m coming,” the warrior called impatiently.

  There was no thinking. The door opened. Nuru lunged at the slits of flesh at the neck and stabbed relentlessly. Blood burst on his fingers and trickled down his neck. The ambushed warrior tried to throw him off and nurse his throat. Crimson leaked beneath the helm, down his chin and through the cracks in his armour. Nuru didn’t look at his eyes. There was fear in them. He knew it.

  The man slumped against the wall. Karasi whined. Umbu was the first to react. She dove down, grabbed the sword and swapped it with Nuru’s knife. He stared at what he’d caused. A warmth seeped onto his worn boots. Something wet poured down his cheeks.

  “Nuru, we can do this!” Umbu grabbed his shoulder and kicked him back into action. “We’ve got to leave, now!” She pushed him forward.

  “No, Nuru! We can’t! We can’t kill people!” Karasi pleaded, backing away. “I can’t live with this guilt!”

  He was torn between both. He knew which direction they needed to go. There was no going back. He grabbed Karasi and pulled her out into the hall, tripping over the dead man. “We must go!”

  “I can’t kill people!” Karasi cried, resisting.

  Nuru shook her hard and dragged her by the wrist, staining her clothes red. “You don’t have to!”

  He barged down the corridors, steps quickening. Another guard came from the trokhosi room and opened his mouth to call for help. Nuru’s eyes widened. That couldn’t happen. With the threats of their freedom being taken away, he raised the sword and slashed the guard’s neck. It stuck in his spine, the man gurgling and spitting as he collapsed. Karasi cried and clasped her hand to her throat, retching. Umbu tried to calm her. Nuru yanked the sword free and let the garasum pick up the new weapon.

  He had a few seconds to regain some composure. Karasi was spluttering words, none of which made sense. The colours before his eyes formed squiggly lines and swirls. He was lighter than air and couldn’t fall down. The weight would cost them.

  Wiping his mouth, the taste of copper hit his tongue. He gagged. Umbu shoved open the door into the trokhosi hall. Eight guards patrolled there. At first, no one reacted. Nuru, Umbu and Karasi got a good way to the entrance without anyone batting an eye. Then, one guard noticed. Nuru took a swing at his leg. The rest made throat calls and rang bells. Dia wasn’t in the room. Even if he had been, Nuru wouldn’t have been able to tell for cracked leather armour and weapons swinging in his direction.

  The fight was a blur of red, blood splattering on his skin, and animalistic howls. They were weak, tired and slow. He was paces ahead. As he cut each man down, the sword felt natural in his grip. He slashed and hacked without looking back.

  “NURU!” Karasi shrieked.

  He spun around. His sister had been overwhelmed by the door. Three men dragged her into the hall. She kicked and cried. He was close to the entrance, Umbu on his right side, hiding in his shadow and jabbing who she could.

  “We need to run!” Umbu pleaded, yanking her sword out of a man’s eye socket.

  Nuru glared. He sped to Karasi. The door was closing. As he reached it, four guards joined from the room to his left, grabbing at him. Umbu was at the exit, Karasi was gone. “KARA!” he shouted. There was screaming. He heard her resisting. Then silence.

  He bit into the wrist of his strongest assailant. His teeth latched. The man cried and tried to tug free. Nuru tore out the veins in his arm, showering him in red. The warrior threw himself back, shoving the others away.

  Nuru dashed to Umbu, who was cowering by the door. He had to keep focus. He rushed the bulky warrior in front of her, stabbing him through the back. There was no time and more reinforcements were being called. He left his blade in the dead man’s spine and snatched up his sword to replace it.

  The first blast of free, cold air hit him. Feeling suddenly light on his feet, he sprinted down the hill. Another scream forced him to turn again. “Kara!” he yelled and went to run back.

  Umbu grabbed his arm. “No, Nuru! We can’t go back for her! We need to go!”

  “I can’t leave her!”

  “You can come back with help! We mustn’t go back! It’s now or never!”

  Nuru desperately wanted to help his sister. How could he leave after everything they’d been through? They’d torture her for years. While he dithered, a warrior approached unseen. Nuru was too slow to stop the man slicing into Umbu’s arm. Her screams forced his decision. He thrust his blade into the warrior’s ribs, then pulled her towards the gates.

  Reinforcements poured out of the shadows. Nuru cut many of them down, hacking off hands, carving open bellies, but still they advanced until Nuru and Umbu found themselves backed up against one of the sconces on the main path, surrounded. He closed his eyes. This wasn’t their time.

  “The… torch,” Umbu whispered.

  Nuru didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the brand and slammed it into the face of the nearest man. The stench of melting flesh filled the air and his screams were deafening. When the others pulled back, horrified, Nuru ran with Umbu behind him, burning any man who came too close until he reached the next torch in line and tossed it onto the roof of the nearest hut to blossom with flames.

  The gate was close. The archers in the towers beside it had only a whirl of shadows to shoot at. Nuru threw his torch up onto the nearest of them and the men screamed and jumped, bones snapping as they landed. He kicked one in the back of his head to make sure he’d stay down, then grabbed his bow and quiver before hacking through the ropes holding the gate closed.

  As fire devoured the dry watchtower behind them and men yelled in outrage and confusion in the village, Nuru and Umbu fled into the darkness of the jungle. The cries slowly faded with the nighttime crickets but the pair knew better than to rest too soon.
Their enemies wouldn’t stop searching that easily.

  The lapping of a lake and insects chirping in the reeds eventually calmed them. Umbu dropped to the boggy floor, breathing deeply, shivering. Nuru crouched by her, catching his breath, and took out flasks of water. He looked at his reflection shining on the water’s surface. Luaani made the area seem unnaturally bright when he’d been cooped in darkness for so long.

  Umbu smiled between her tears and cupped water to her face. She laughed and clutched her stomach. “This is… it’s unreal. We’re out of there, Nuru.”

  He didn’t recognise the boy staring back him. His curls had bloodied clumps, his face with matching smears. Now he was still, the leering odour of death settled on his skin. The number of people he’d killed, the massacre and torching the huts, it wasn’t who he wanted to be. For the sake of his mother, he had to keep her memory alive. He had to get help for Karasi. Nuru grazed his fingers on the pool and sprinkled his face, hoping to rid himself of the guilt. “Yeah, we are. We won’t be able to rest long.”

  “I know, I know, Nuru.” She hissed at the gash on her arm. “The bastard kicked me in the stomach, too.”

  “We’ll get to the Blood-and-White tribe. It’s the closest place. Hopefully, they have that letter ahead of our arrival.”

  Umbu’s bright eyes glistened. She chewed her nails. “I never got to send it. The trader who comes was killed on the way.” Straightening her legs, she dipped her toes into the cooling lake. “I thought you didn’t want to go there? Atsu doesn’t take kindly to strangers, especially not our kind.”

  “I hoped the message would be in his hands when I got there. I didn’t know if you were going to backstab me, to be honest. I’d be foolish to entirely trust you on a childhood memory.”

  “I understand.” She clutched her stomach. “I… I hope they do have healers.”