The crowd suddenly fell silent. The tension in the air was heightened after Slane said those words. Krag bit his lip, it was apparent that the Magus had said those implied threats on purpose, just to intimidate everyone. His grip on the sword tightened. The large, bearded man who stood beside Slane turned and stared at Krag menacingly, the large axe in his hand ready for action.
Brar kept grinning. If he could keep them talking, then perhaps he could calm everyone down and they would be able to bargain for peace. “It is an honor to have you here, Lord Slane. Do the other Magi have their own sand sails, or is this miraculous vessel unique to yourselves?”
“I am bored with this line of conversation,” Slane said. “This is an official visit. I have come to inquire about the whereabouts of a certain child. This boy had run away from the citadel and we would like him back, if you please.”
Brar’s chest heaved. Now he had to choose his words carefully. “Y-yes, there was such a child, but he is no longer here.”
Slane’s crimson eyes narrowed. “So he did come across this realm. Well, it seems we came to the right place after all. Where is the boy now?”
“I am afraid that the child is dead,” Brar said. “You see, he ran away again, just before we were to return him to your citadel, Lord Slane. He ran out into the dunes and was stung by a poison norpion. He died before we could get him to the healer. I am so sorry that your journey here will end on this sad note.”
Slane looked away again as he pondered silently for a minute. Then he suddenly turned and stared straight into Krag’s eyes. “You, where is the child’s body?”
Krag was shocked. He had not expected to be questioned abruptly like that. He thought about it for a short while before he answered. Karma was watching him, and he would be judged by what he uttered. “I-it was interred into the tombs in our fungi garden, Lord.”
“What he meant was just the bones,” Brar added. “You see, our tradition states that-”
Slane placed his hand up. “You will remain silent unless I ask you directly, is that clear?”
Brar nodded meekly. “Yes, my apologies, Lord.”
Slane pointed to Krag. “You, I did not get your name. State it along with your profession as well.”
Krag pursed his lips. “I am Krag, chief hunter and protector of the tribe.”
Slane smiled. “Ah, that explains why you are wielding a sword. For a protector should always have the best weapon that the tribe possesses, yes?”
Krag threw a quick glance at Brar before nodding silently. He knew the goddess of fate was not happy with his lies, but he had to keep the ruse going.
“Tell me, Protector Krag,” Slane said. “Are there any Strigas in your village?”
Krag nodded. “We have one, our elder healer.”
Slane’s left eyebrow twitched. “Just one? I had thought that every tribe out here in the wastes would have several Strigas, for tradition states that it is usually a Striga who holds the title of protector, is that not right?”
“We …have not had any Strigas born in our tribe for many cycles now, Lord,” Krag said.
Slane titled his head back and laughed. “Do not take me for a fool! That bone sword you have in your hand is from the citadel, for we had dispatched a seeker to find the boy two moons ago. Did you murder him?”
Krag frowned. He was sick and tired of having to lie, but everyone was depending on him. “No, we found the seeker’s body out in the wastes. I merely took this weapon since he no longer had any use for it.”
Slane began to pace back and forth. “The image in my mind is becoming clearer now. First the boy makes it here, then runs away again, only to die by a norpion’s sting. Then our seeker comes here but dies before he reaches your settlement? How could you have possibly found that sword, then?”
“During one of our hunts,” Krag said tersely.
“And what did you do with his body? Placed his bones into your fungi tombs as well, I suppose. How convenient.” Slane said. “I think you are lying to me.”
“It is the truth, Lord Slane,” Brar said. “Our protector has told you what really happened. We swear it upon the gods.”
One of the men in the crowd made an audible gasp before he covered his mouth. Slane’s eyes darted over to the others, some of whom held their heads down, while the others looked away. Brar turned and gave them an angry glare before looking back at the lord executor. By invoking the gods, he had twice cursed their fates.
Slane took several steps forward as his face was now only inches away from Brar’s own. His crimson eyes glared at the old man like pools of fiery rubies. “I had instructed you to remain silent, and yet you opened your mouth anyway. What should I do about your insolence? During my time as an apprentice, if any Magi spoke out of turn, my master would use his Vis to rip out a tooth from the offender, and add it to his collection. He had a jar of say, ten thousand teeth, as I recall.”
“Enough,” Krag said. “I shall tell you the truth, for I will not be judged as a liar by the gods. Our first protector found the boy during a hunt, and had brought him back here. Your seeker came and violated the oath of peace when he tried to abduct the boy. Our protector was forced to slay him. The elders then ordered the protector to return the child back to your citadel. They left half a moon ago, and we have not heard from them since.”
Slane nodded and smiled as he took a few steps backwards. “There you are! At last, the truth has finally come out. That was not so hard, was it?”
“W-we were reluctant to speak about it because our people are afraid,” Brar said. “Surely you can see that we are but a small, humble tribe just trying to survive out here. Your seeker gave us no choice when the promise was violated. The protector who killed him is no longer here, but you are within your right to take her should she ever return.”
“Miri did what she had to do!” Krag hissed. “You cannot fault her for that!”
Slane put both his hands up. “Enough, both of you. What a comical sight this is. The village elder and the acting protector arguing like two little children. I must say that I find this display to be completely pathetic. I was told that the tribes out here were hardy, honorable people. Imagine my disappointment when I can see that the truth tells me something else. All I see before me is a bunch of pitiful cowards who engage in obfuscation, even blaspheming the very gods that they claim to worship. You are a miserable lot indeed.” He turned to look at Krag. “So this protector of yours, she was a Striga I take it?”
Krag nodded. “Yes.”
“I can understand why she was able to slay the seeker then,” Slane said to him. “She must be formidable, perhaps a challenge even for me. Her name is Miri, did you say?”
“Yes, Miri is her name,” Brar said.
Slane turned and glared at the elder. “I told you to be quiet unless spoken to! That is twice you refused my order!”
Brar got down on his knees. “Please, Lord. Forgive me. We do not mean to offend you.”
Slane snorted as he turned to look at his bearded companion. “Alright, I have had enough of this groveling. Can you see, Baradine? These people cannot be allowed to continue their miserable existence any longer. My canis is currently sick and still sleeping in the sand sail’s cabin, his constant whimpering nearly brings me to tears. Why do you think it is sick, Baradine?”
Baradine continued to stare at the crowd. “Your pet has not had fresh meat for days now.”
“Correct,” Slane said as he held his hand out to Brar, who was still on his knees. “I need to feed my canis, or else it will waste away.”
Brar gasped as his throat suddenly seized up. It was like an invisible vise had suddenly clamped around it, shutting off his airway. The old man struggled to get up, wheezing helplessly as Slane just stood there while gesturing at him with his hand.
Krag immediately realized what was happening. He drew back his cloak and raised the sword. “Stop! You are killing him, stop this at once!”
For the first time that day, Bar
adine’s mask of stone was broken as he let out a big grin while hefting his battleaxe into position and looked at Krag. “Can I have this one?”
“You can have them all,” Slane said. “Kill everyone in this village.”
Baradine tilted his head sideways as he glanced at the other two Magi beside him. “Revok, Turru, clear the crowd.”
The other two Magi were somewhat different in build. Revok had long black hair down to his shoulders, while Turru wore a gold mask that hid the upper part of his face. Both drew swords and used their Vis to advance upon the crowd of men. Their combined mindforce created an invisible wave of power that tore through the clump of people. Bodies flew sideways as most of the hunters were thrown into the ground, leaving a large number of them stunned. Hrust was somehow able to weather the shockwave and he slowly stood up before Revok stabbed him in the stomach. The young hunter spat out some blood as he clutched at the intestines hanging out from his torso and fell on his side.
“I do not need to use my Vis to fight you,” Baradine said as he advanced upon Krag, swinging his large axe in a powerful arc towards his opponent.
Krag held up his war shield to stop the blow, but the layers of leather and bone shattered upon impact with the steel axe head. Krag staggered backwards as pieces of the shield fell away from his wounded arm. Baradine gave out a war cry as he brought back the axe over his shoulder and made another swing at Krag, but the chief hunter continued to move backwards, the axe blade narrowly missing his chest.
Krag knew he didn’t stand much of a chance against an opponent wielding a steel weapon, so he bent his knees and tried to stay away from the axe’s reach, waiting until the large Magus made another swing so he could close and get to within striking distance with the bone sword. Just as Baradine swung at him again, Krag leaned back and evaded the incoming blow, then quickly moved into range. The chief hunter swung the bone sword right at Baradine’s torso, but the Magus was able to bring the axe back in time. The edge of the bone sword connected with the shaft of the battle axe, and more pieces of obsidian were chipped away. Baradine roared with rage as he headbutted Krag in the chin, momentarily stunning the chief hunter as Krag staggered backwards in a daze.
Baradine pressed his advantage as he swung the axe over his head before bringing it down towards Krag. The chief hunter could barely concentrate as he instinctively held the sword up to parry the attack, but the force of the axe was so great that it drove the flat part of his own blade onto his shoulder, ripping open a gaping wound in his flesh. Krag groaned as he fell onto the ground, the bone sword partly embedded on his chest. Baradine stood triumphantly over him as he prepared for the final blow.
The Magus swung the battleaxe on a downward arc, aiming for Krag’s head. The chief hunter was wounded and he couldn’t react in time. But just as the axe head was about to strike him, Krag was suddenly thrown sideways, Baradine’s weapon missing him by a scant few inches when it struck the sandy ground instead. The Magus roared with rage while he shifted his stance and adjusted his next swing over to where Krag had somehow been displaced at. Baradine’s eyes went wide as his attack was suddenly stopped in midair, there was some sort of invisible force holding him back.
Baradine turned his head and glared at the likely culprit. “Damn you, Slane! You are using your mindforce to toy with my fight!”
Slane held both his arms outwards, one hand gesturing to a choking Brar, while the other was clearly projecting in Krag’s direction. The executor was chuckling. “Just having a bit of fun, you must admit that it is more exciting this way.”
Krag knew he had his chance. He swung the bone sword at Baradine’s left leg, hoping to strike at the unarmored part behind his knee. Baradine had seen the blade being flashed and quickly used his mindforce to tilt the attack upwards, to his torso. The bone sword connected with the armored plates that were sewn into Baradine’s side. Given enough force, a steel blade might have penetrated in between the metal plates, but the edges of the bone sword used embedded slivers of obsidian, and the brittle rock failed to go through, as huge pieces of them were chipped away from the force of the blow.
Baradine had had enough. He used his mindforce to yank the broken bone sword from Krag’s grip, sending it flying away towards the ground. Then he quickly recalibrated his Vis, using it as a powered leverage while bringing the axe down on Krag’s chest. This time, Slane didn’t interfere. The massive blow collapsed the bones in Krag’s ribcage and the chief hunter lay sprawled on the ground as he began to bleed out.
With a gesture of his hand, Slane crushed Brar’s windpipe using his mindforce before turning to look at his colleague. The chief elder twitched on the sandy ground for a few seconds, then lay still. “Well done, Baradine! See, you had to use your Vis after all.”
Baradine briefly contemplated killing his superior, before turning to his side and joining in the carnage that was occurring in front of them. As his axe landed on top of a stunned hunter’s head, Baradine knew that any attempt on Slane’s life would mean his death. The executor was the most powerful mindforce user he had ever seen, and not even his mighty axe would have an advantage over Slane. Baradine kept his thoughts of revenge to himself. In the future, perhaps, when the time was right. All he had to do was wait.
Slane didn’t even bother to draw his sword as he stood there, watching the other three use their Vis to stun and then execute their enemies. One man tried to hold them off with his spear, But Turru used his Vis to pick up a knife lying on the ground, then hurled it at the hapless victim’s throat. The man collapsed onto the dirt floor, blood gushing from his open throat. Only two men were left standing, begging for mercy. Baradine used his mindforce to knock their heads together, and the two men fell stunned on the ground. Revok moved in and drove his sword into their bellies. One of the hunters backed away, and shot an arrow. Baradine gestured with his hand and the arrow veered off and struck another tribesman at the back of his neck instead.
Slane casually walked over and pointed towards the assembly hall. “Most of the women and children are in there, go get them.”
Zedne had seen the butchery from afar. Women were screaming as they took their children inside the great hall in an apparent effort to stave off their deaths for a few moments longer. Two panicked old hunters were left guarding the entrance but it was clear they would not hold. Etul was the only elder left aside from her, and she saw him give a wave at her while she walked back into her dwelling. If she was going to die, then it would be in her own house, not in the hall with the others.
As she passed through the entryway of her house, the sounds of killing had begun. The healer had been a Striga once, before age had finally caught up with her. Tears streamed down her wrinkled cheeks as she could hear people begging for mercy, only to be replaced by an almost quiet death rattle, as their final breaths exited their dying bodies. She still had a little of the mindsense stirring within her, and it made the sounds she was hearing even more horrible. Walking over to where the stone slab was, she heard a noise. Zedne leaned over to see who it was and made an audible gasp.
A small girl lay huddled behind the slab. She was holding a crying baby in her arms. She looked up at the healer, her eyes bulging in desperation.
Zedne recognized her. She pointed at the corridor beyond. “Vida, take the baby and go. There is a loose set of bricks behind the bed in my quarters. You must go. Quickly.”
The sounds of the leather flap being torn loose by the entryway made her turn around. One of the Magi walked inside. It was Revok. His sword and hands were all covered in blood. “So you are the last Striga? You do not look so formidable,” he said.
Zedne straightened her shoulders. “This is the house of the healer. Leave this place, at once.”
“You are not in any position to make demands, old woman,” Revok said. He advanced further towards her while keeping his sword in a high guard position.
Zedne coalesced the full power of her mindsense into a shrieking ball of pain and hurled it towards
the Magus. Revok’s thought blocks were up, but he was completely unprepared for the ferociousness of her mental attack. Zedne’s Vis bore through his defenses and his mind shut down. Revok blinked his eyes as he tried to form a coherent thought, but he couldn’t even get past the lack of awareness in his senses. His sword arm became limp, and the blade fell from his hands. A small stream of blood dripped down from his left nostril.
The healer knew she didn’t have much time. Her Vis was spent and her opponent would soon recover his wits. Zedne sidestepped over to the bone shelf, the rack where she kept her medicines. She quickly noticed one of the clay jars and picked it up, just as Revok’s mind had begun to recover. She threw the small container at the face of the Magus, right while he was shaking his head, trying to remember what had just happened. The jar shattered on the bridge of his nose and the yellow powder spilled onto Revok’s face. The Magus screamed as he fell on his knees, the substance burning through his skin and eyes. Revok began rolling on the floor, his cries mixing in with the sounds of the dying outside.
Zedne walked back behind the stone slab and took the little girl’s hand. The healer led her past the squirming man on the ground and back out through the entryway. As the two of them got to the outside, they could see that the assailants had set fire to the assembly hall. The cacophony of wails was unnerving, but Zedne held onto the little girl’s hand and they both started running towards the other side of the village. If they could just make it to the tall rocks situated near the fungi cave, they would be able to hide out until the Magi left.
Just as they rounded a corner, they came face to face with Slane. The chief executor was just standing there and smiled at them, his leering face a mixture of menace and delight. Zedne pulled the child behind her as she refocused what was left of her Vis.
Slane grinned at them. He was less than ten yards away and took a step closer. “Now where would you three be going? Can you not see that we are having a good time here?”
Lands of Dust (The Dying World Book 1) Page 18
