Tribal Dawn: Mordufa: Volume Three Read online

  “Does it feel alright? Is it still moving?” Nuru asked, ripping apart cloth to dab her arm.

  “I think so. I’ll know in the… ow! I’ll know in the night.”

  Nuru finished wrapping up. He gave her a weak grin and tried not to allow the sudden images of blood and faces screaming to haunt him. He looked at the pink dreadlocks clipped into her hair. “I’ve never seen how bright they actually are before.”

  “Oh, they were my mother’s and passed down through generations. When I was young, she told me that my great-great-grandfather wanted to stand out in war, wanted to be a target. He cut down his enemies and survived. Since then, they’ve been our lucky dreads. Ironic really, considering my great-grandmother became a garasum.” The hooting of a bird startled her. “How are we going to do this?”

  “When my mother took Karasi and me away, we slept for a couple of hours each, one guarding. You can set up a space if you want, I don’t think I can sleep,” Nuru said, reading the tiredness in her limbs.

  Umbu didn’t argue and found a flat patch beneath a bush. She took out a blanket and lay on her side, curled up and hidden away. “My first night of freedom! I can’t believe it. Thank you, Nuru. May Luaani guide your dreams.”

  He waved, forcing himself to look happy. Then he turned around, closed his eyes and rested his head on his arms. There was no respite from the stench of death. Instead of reminding him he was doing the right thing, it reassured his mother was dead, and his sister was going to go through torture until he returned. She’d think him a coward and would never forgive him for leaving.

  - CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE -

  Vakaar organised his journey to the next set of tribes, closest to the Kardier camps, the Sky clusters. He’d have to leave the next day to get there on time. His stuff was packed, a fortnight on foot, rent a guest hut for a day, then gallop until the jungle transformed into the familiar forest. He was looking forward to wearing dark leathers, and drinking wine from the Sun and Inferno tribes while sitting in his master's chair.

  His hut was decorated nicely. Since he’d arrived, he’d replaced everything damaged. There were two padded chairs in the centre, a fancy rug and a low table to cut herbs. The cooking fire’s stones were replaced, and the charcoal that burnt the floor had been scrubbed off. His pots and pans were brand new, and the bedroom had a sturdy bed raised from the ground instead of a pile of scratchy hay in the corner.

  Vakaar had purchased a portion of meat from a hunter for the night. Instead of cutting it, he poked a stick through and let it grill over the fire. Soon enough, it was nothing but a lump of black. He threw it to the side and went for his backup plan: a big bowl of mixed fruits. At least he didn’t have to cook it. When he was alone, he’d put on Silent-step gloves to feel like himself. He didn’t have to wear the uncomfortable tunic either. Everything was in place: the candles were lit, and the pathetic meals were ready.

  There was a knock at the door. He grabbed the bottle of wine. The best he could find was from the Earth tribes; with ancestral roots shared with Aqua, he assumed their drinks would be as great. This nearly was, except it was sour, had a muddy taste and burnt his throat. He greeted Zura, wiping his eyes, spluttering.

  Zura wore a silken black dress, thin straps on her shoulders. Around her neck was a necklace, three black and white feathers attached to a matching marble bead. The setting of Solianga basked her in his glowing aura. Like at the feast, Vakaar was surprised to see a bit of flesh, even if it was only her arms. Self-conscious, she folded them and glanced over her shoulder as if afraid someone would see her.

  “Ah, Kreiess. Wearing black?”

  “You’ve spent all this time adjusting to our customs, I thought I should do the same for you. You’ve lost your tunic?”

  “Cooking fire and candles inside a tiny hut – no chance.”

  She smiled nervously and ducked under his arm, rushing in. She noticed his gloves and turned away to inspect the hut. “This place is amazing. It’s homely in here!”

  Vakaar closed the door, bit off his gloves and poured drinks. “I had to live in something better than what it was.” He nodded to the chairs and the red bowls on the table. “Something went wrong with the food.”

  Zura picked up her serving and crossed her legs. She plucked an orange segment and nibbled. “It’s alright, I ate before just in case.”

  “Thanks for having faith in me.” Vakaar smirked and rested in the comfort of his chair. He watched her nibbling, sipping and inspecting. “So then, what are your plans for the orphans?”

  “We’ve been speaking to them. We’re listening to their conversations while they play too, in case they confess to friends – even imaginary ones. I guess, for now, we have to monitor and hope. What about you?”

  Vakaar narrowed his eyes. “That’s incredibly personal. I guess I did promise if you asked… and you barely have. What do you want to know?”

  “What does a person like you do after a job is complete? Do you return, have to do a ritual? Get your next job?” Zura flickered her eyelashes. “It’s difficult to understand and seems strange to me.”

  “When I return, my master – the man who I was trained under – will most likely be dead. I’ll take his place.”

  Zura sympathetically inclined her head. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Don’t be. We see it as a blessing, especially when you reach his age. He was ancient. Must have been about fifty when he took me on.” Vakaar sipped his wine and shuddered. “I wasn’t expecting this to be sour. Anyway, being a master means I get the jobs directly. I get to pick six and only six under my wing. If they die, I can’t replace them. It’ll be up to me to give out contracts or take them myself. It’s all about judgement.”

  “That’s a lot of pressure on you.”

  “It is a bit. Nothing I can’t handle.”

  Zura chewed her lip and ruffled her dress. She pursed her lips. “What about your daily life? Is it how you’ve been living here or different? My mother told me when I was five that shadows drink blood, turning their skin milky white. I’ve never seen you do it, though, and you’re definitely not white.”

  Vakaar choked and twitched. “No. We don’t drink blood. There are some that like the taste for different reasons. There’s a herb called Trezoquile… Now that stuff, that makes you pale. The majority of our kind have consciences, and the killing plays on them. Trezoquile stops those thoughts and puts you in a euphoric state. Once you take it, you can’t come off it.”

  “And you’ve never felt guilty enough to have it?”

  “I’ve felt guilty plenty, Kreiess. I’ve killed three of my own sisters who I grew up with. That wasn’t easy. But, if you lie and deceive, Mordufa turns a blind eye to your blade. I’ll spare you the details. It had to be done.” Vakaar refilled his cup and offered to fill hers. “Ah, you’ve hardly touched it.”

  “I’m getting there. I want to enjoy my platter first.” She smiled. “What about families? You must have those who bind?”

  Vakaar settled back down. “Not many want to bind because of the risk of death. Guards are better trained nowadays to sense us. You’d have to have your pockets flowing with gold lions, too. Our vows mean the one place we can bind is the Moon tribe mountains and that ceremony… Well, Kreneis can barely afford to have it lavishly. I mean, there are some that go on to have children. I call those selfish bastards.”

  Zura did a double take. “Why?”

  “Anyone who knows anyone who grew up how we did wouldn’t wish it on the life they created. An infant born to Silent-step parents must be brought up like us. They are given a master that might not be the same as the one ruling their parents. Chances are, the child will die, or the binding couple will die, giving us more grief. We’re already battling our own dark thoughts.” Vakaar waited as she ate silently, contemplating his words. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”

  “No, thank you,” she whispered, curling into a ball.

  Vakaar nodded and left her in silence
while he checked everything was packed for the morning. She hadn’t panicked yet. That was a good sign. After she’d eaten and guzzled the wine, he walked back in and leant on the back of a chair.

  Zura cleared her throat and wiped the crumbs from her chest. “I guess, then, thank you for everything Vakaar. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. I’d be clueless about it all.”

  “Indeed.” She elegantly stood, flicking her hair over her shoulder, and brought the bowl to the water barrel. He grabbed her wrist. Startled, she gazed into his eyes, hers glistening in the candlelight. “I’m not done.”

  Zura tilted her head, confused. She looked at his firm grip but didn’t resist. “Are there more than the three perpetrators?”

  Vakaar shook his head. “When we were at the peak, do you know what you did?”

  Zura turned away. “I behaved how I shouldn’t.”

  “No. You acted like a woman and not a child.”

  Zura backed away, her cheeks flushed. “I need to go.”

  Vakaar pinned her against the wall. Fear shone in her eyes, her chest pounding. She wouldn’t look at him. “I want you, Zura. I don’t mean in the way where I’ll romance you, promise you my soul, carve you a crystal and bring you flowers. You have a nice figure, one I’d like to see naked. I want to see the woman beneath.” He rested one hand on her shoulder, the other caressing her cheek. He leant forward, shy of their noses touching. “I want you. I want your body. I want to fuck you.”

  Her breath caught, and she turned away. “You can’t say that to me. I’m the Chief’s daughter! A Moduma! Look, Vakaar, let me go. You’re beginning to scare me.”

  She trembled before him. He kept a gap between them and pulled her jaw to lock their gazes. “I’ve seen a thousand faces of fear. I know it when I see it. This isn’t fear of me.”

  She tried to look either side. He pushed her back. Quivering, she brought a hand to his shoulder and nuzzled her nose with his. “No… I can’t. I can’t do it.”

  “There are no windows here, the door is secure.” Vakaar gazed at her lips and traced his thumb over them. Since he’d seen her, he’d suppressed his fascination. “There is no one here but us.”

  Zura looked desperately at him. Her lips parted. She tensed, throwing her head back against the wall. “I can’t! I can’t do it!”

  Vakaar straightened her again, losing his patience. “Yes, you can! How many people kiss in a day? I’m leaving tomorrow, Kreiess! I can’t do this for you.”

  “Why?! If this attraction you have is so strong, why aren’t you forcing it on me?!”

  Vakaar clicked his tongue. Sighing, he lifted his hand away. “Forget it. Go.”

  He was yanked back. The force of her lips threw him off guard. She clutched his face, nails digging into his temples, her body tense against his chest. He wrapped his arm around her neck, the other grasping her waist. They settled into the long awaited and desired kiss, savouring each other’s taste. He dared to turn it passionate. She broke away, breathing heavily.

  She smiled, trembling fingers grazing his cheek with angst and relief. Tears of joy filled her eyes.

  The tension of months of being agonisingly teased only for her to panic had been worth it. He cupped her face. “We’re safe. Nothing has happened.”

  “I know,” she whispered, leaning on his fingers. “I… I feel silly now. That was all I had to do all this time.”

  Vakaar nudged his nose with hers, eyes half closed. “It was a huge phobia for a reason.” He kissed her intensely, tangling his hand in her hair, and held her lower back. She hummed, and he tugged her closer. Unlike the women he’d known before, she wasn’t taught to be an actress. Every affectionate sound and movement was a pure reaction to him, something that made his hunger for her soar.

  Zura stepped back to the wall, hands linked behind his neck. With each surge of guilt, she’d stiffen. The longer they connected, these faded until she was almost completely relaxed. She had every intention of gazing into his eyes, but hers couldn’t draw away from his lips.

  Vakaar hooked her hair behind her ear, their breaths mingled. “Do you want me to continue?”

  She pondered the question and nodded meekly. “Yes.”

  Vakaar bit her lower lip and pinned her in a passionate kiss. He deliberately pressed against her. Her heart hammered against his, her legs trembling and her sounds of joy were a pleasant melody. He tore away from their link, devouring her neck, grazing his teeth on her smooth, bronze skin. He lightly nipped at it, his uncontrollable desire unleashed, lust swelling.

  He dropped to her collarbone. She switched between remaining uptight and wanting him, back arching. He tried to disregard it. The silk dress was thin. The more he pulled back, the harder she fought to hold to his chest, rubbing her pelvis against him. He twitched and snarled, hooking his fingers beneath the dress strap. Zura froze.

  “What?”

  “I… I have scars,” she whimpered.

  Vakaar narrowed his eyes and glanced at his chest, beneath her palm. “This is paint, really.”

  “No, it’s… a shameful one.”

  “You can live with mine, I can live with yours.” Before she could reply, he grazed her collar, purposefully biting the strap out of the way. When it fell, he did the same on the other side. Zura couldn’t fight the satisfying attention. He delved lower, across the top of her breasts. She panted. He ignored it. He tugged her dress, and she lifted her knee, almost catching him between the legs. When he kissed her breast, she relaxed. His hands wandered to her back, caressing her spine, and pushed the silk down, away from her hips. He wanted to feel all of her.

  Vakaar stood over her. Zura brought her hands up, bashfully covering herself. He wrapped her hands back around his neck, and the dress fell to her feet. Pushing her back forcefully, their lips reconnected. Her skin on his made his blood rise. His hands lowered to her rear, and he pressed purposefully on her underwear.

  Zura stifled a moan. Vakaar tore away to hear it. She blushed and hid at his neck, full of nerves. He dragged his palm over her flat stomach to her pelvis. When he heard her catch breath, rigid, he closed his eyes and dropped his hand lower. He wished he hadn’t. Her legs were shut, but her warmth teased him. He gently stroked, easing her legs open. She moaned into his ear. He hissed, gnawing his teeth. He rubbed her for a few moments, her hot breath on his neck. She was getting louder, hips grinding on him. Her chest was rising and falling.

  Vakaar’s leg shook. He forced himself away and firmly clasped either side of her face. “We’ll go into the bedroom.”

  Flustered and red, Zura nodded. She took his hand and let him lead the way. Once in the candlelit room beside the bed, they ravaged each other’s lips and took in the other’s tastes, starving with want.

  Vakaar lay her on the bed. He dragged kisses across her breasts. She released her alluring sounds and wriggled. He travelled down her navel, then either side of her hips, before reaching her pelvis.

  “Vakaar…?” she asked, her head propped up.

  He didn’t answer. He reached her thin, cloth underwear. The scent had him nearly possessed with lust. He passionately kissed. He twitched and kept his concentration, teasing as she trembled. He used his tongue to get in from the side. Zura sat up, moans and breaths deep.

  “Vakaar…” she said gutturally. She grabbed his head and pulled him up when he wouldn’t stop. “I want to kiss you there, too.”

  Perplexed, Vakaar blinked. “I wasn’t expecting that. I’m not going to say no.” He forced himself off her, sitting back on the bed. She kissed his chest and over his scars. Vakaar stopped her. “Turn around. You do it to me, I’ll do it to you.”

  She blushed and followed his guidance. She nipped and kissed like he had but softer. He waited until she reached where she wanted. The instant her lips wrapped around him, he nearly caved. He squeezed his eyes tight and delved his tongue beneath her underwear. His saving grace was how timid she was. After moons of no physical contact, wanting a pure woman and tantali
sing sexual connection, there was no way he could keep it up. His leg was going. She was letting instinct take over, grinding slowly and sensually, moaning in a way he didn’t want to stop hearing. He thought of people he knew: the ugly faces of Silent-step, Leko, the people he’d killed here. It worked for a moment. Atsu came into his mind, then it took a turn to Jocelin before there was no fighting that it was Zura he was tasting.

  “Stop… stop,” he gasped and pulled back. He tapped her rear and lifted her off when she was safely away. She sat on her knees, near naked, face flushed and desire burning her eyes. He grabbed her and sat her on his knees. Her scent was agonisingly intense. He harshly kissed her, hands trailing to the strings either side of her underwear. Before he pulled the knots, he looked into her eyes. “You only get one first time.”

  “I know.” She ran her hands to join his and helped pull apart the bows.

  Vakaar grinned and threw it to the floor. She held onto him, nerves showing. He wrapped her thighs around his waist. While kissing, he slowly pulled her down. Her breaths grew rapid. His own matched with anticipation.

  “Is it going to hurt?” she whimpered.

  “Hopefully not.” He cupped her face and kept her gaze with his, distracting her from any ache. She bit her lip and trembled at the first touch. He restrained himself. One hand resting on her hip, Vakaar let her go as slow as she needed.

  Zura took shaky breaths. Moaning, her lips parted. There was a wince in her eyes as she lowered herself. At the first threat of pain, Vakaar massaged her to ease it, keeping his gaze locked. She clung on.

  Vakaar twitched, thrusting by accident. He growled in tune with her hoarse cry. She buried into his neck. He held onto her, releasing a frustrated gasp at the sensation. He pulled back her hair, kissing her while he guided her hips to withdraw. She rocked, the initial pain fading. The sweat poured from their closeness, the heat of yearning, raising their blood as one.

  They ravaged the other with jagged kisses between raspy moans. Zura gained confidence moving on her own. Her nails scratched his hair, neck and back. He couldn’t control meeting her thrusts. He wasn’t going to last. A Sun tribesman’s stamina couldn’t. A god couldn’t. Suddenly, Zura almost entirely broke away.