Tribal Dawn: Mordufa: Volume Three

by Cassie Wolf

  TRIBAL DAWN:

  MORDUFA

  By Cassie Wolf

  Publisher’s note: This novel is aimed for those aged eighteen and above. The following pages contain strong language, violence, nudity and situations which some may feel uncomfortable reading. If such scenes offend you, please do not purchase or continue to read the following.

  © Copyright 2017, Cassie Wolf, All Rights Reserved.

  TRIBAL DAWN

  Tribal Dawn: Blood-and-Shadow (Volume One)

  Tribal Dawn: Descendants (Volume Two)

  Tribal Dawn: Mordufa (Volume Three)

  Tribal Dawn: Trilogy (October 2017)

  TRIBAL DUSK

  Tribal Dusk: Butterfly (Spring/Summer 2018)

  TRIBAL SOULS

  Tribal Souls: Jasari (October 2017)

  Tribal Souls: Inari (2018)

  Tribal Souls: Pazade (2018)

  TRIBAL ALPHA

  Tribal Alpha: Innocence (Volume One)

  Tribal Alpha: Celebration (Volume Two)

  Tribal Alpha: Truth (Volume Three)

  Tribal Alpha: Celebration (Volume Four)

  Tribal Alpha: Justice (Volume Five)

  Tribal Alpha: Five Volume Collection

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  - CHAPTER ONE -

  - CHAPTER TWO -

  - CHAPTER THREE -

  - CHAPTER FOUR -

  - CHAPTER FIVE -

  - CHAPTER SIX -

  - CHAPTER SEVEN -

  - CHAPTER EIGHT -

  - CHAPTER NINE -

  - CHAPTER TEN -

  - CHAPTER ELEVEN -

  - CHAPTER TWELVE -

  - CHAPTER THIRTEEN -

  - CHAPTER FOURTEEN -

  - CHAPTER FIFTEEN -

  - CHAPTER SIXTEEN -

  - CHAPTER SEVENTEEN -

  - CHAPTER EIGHTEEN -

  - CHAPTER NINETEEN -

  - CHAPTER TWENTY -

  - CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE -

  - CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO -

  - CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE -

  - CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR -

  - CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE -

  - CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX -

  - CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN -

  - CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT -

  - CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE -

  - CHAPTER THIRTY -

  - CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE -

  - CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO -

  - CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE -

  - CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR -

  - CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE -

  TRIBAL DUSK SERIES (2018)

  GETTING THE LATEST

  - CHAPTER ONE -

  They travelled for seven days from the blissful comfort of the barracks through the wild mahogany-brown forests. They knew bandits and feral tribesmen were in the area, butchering animals and people alike who took the path to the capital of the ruling Sun tribe.

  Ancient trees lined the flattened soil, a canopy of guardians over the life beneath. Every booted step crunched twigs and leaves, the aroma of turned earth hitting their noses. Ice-cold skin craved flames licking at their fingertips to keep them warm against the unforgiving autumn night.

  Empty branches whistled and groaned. Tau crouched and pressed a finger to his lips, signalling his fellow warriors to keep low behind the trunk of an oak tree.

  Ten years since arriving at the Sun tribe, the trainees had long adapted to the climates of the northern part of the world. After a harsh year of wearing nothing but tattered cloaks and torn fur pouches, they were gifted the finest dark leather armour, embossed across the centre with emblems of a spiked sun. While they continued to train and work, the war leader granted them pieces of silver armour for protection; incredibly rare and expensive and only worn by those deemed worthy. Arms bare and victim to the howling blasts, metal bracers swirled in patterns of the moon and sun did little to protect from the autumn god’s Houfono’s wrath.

  The helm, leather and adorned with studded silver, cut and crafted in triangular layers to mask the face from harm, though this came at the price of clamping tightly on the skull. After three years of training, it was the final piece of the full outfit, marking them as official brethren of the elite Ibuthaat Blades, the Sun tribe warriors.

  Thick, raven dreadlocks tied back, Tau nudged the pressure of the helm away from his face. Taking out his flask, he sipped on water and rubbed the sweat away from his high cheekbones. The headgear had clutched insufferably throughout the search. His hazel eyes blazed a flashing streak of emerald as he cautiously watched the trees surrounding his fellow warriors.

  The first of the two, Unika, was a slim, pale man with sleek, near white-blonde, shoulder-length hair. From the day the group of five had met, his strength baffled Tau and the others. Born beneath the mysterious, icy mountains of the Moon tribe, his optimism throughout training was admirable and, sometimes, irritating. The rest suffered and grew masculinity and muscle. Unika remained the same; slender shoulders, bony fingers gripping his generic silver sword.

  He scuttled across the ground and threw himself against the trunk. He flicked his helm, and his thin, near-blue lips gave Tau a broad, beaming grin. They waited, listening to the crickets and owls, then motioned to Rura.

  Rura, an Inferno tribesman from the eastern part of the world, born on the same night as Tau, had become his closest friend. The many Chiefs of Inferno had spare wives: young, dark haired women who wore veils, perfumes and silks. They were expected to worship the ground men walked on. He was the son of a tyrant who was brutally tortured then murdered by his followers. With similar skin tone and colouring to Tau, many mistook the pair for brothers until they conversed in clearly culturally-different tongues. A blessing of having short, black hair, there was no need for him to adjust his helm after he sped across in a blur.

  “Why the fuck are we sneaking?” he asked, guzzling his share of water.

  “Because something is wrong,” Tau whispered and crouched. He scooped up some soil and inspected the broken nut shells before crushing them in his palm and sprinkling the dirt. “They must be near. The berry bushes are picked clean, and these nuts have recently been cracked.”

  “Then let’s go back to camp and return at dawn. Ebhi and Mala will have caught something by now. We can’t fight shit on an empty stomach.” Rura drained the last of the flask and threw it back to Tau.

  Tau caught it and tied it around his waist beside his sword. “We’ve caught the ends of their trails for days and came back at dawn, but haven’t got them. They’re spooked by something and constantly on the move. We need to go now.”

  “If Rura is hungry, he can return to camp and I’ll stay searching with you. The fish this morning filled me plenty to keep up the search,” Unika whispered.

  Tau chewed his lip. The swoop of leathery bat wings swept passed the trio. “No, no. Both of you go back, and I’ll scout. The track numbers have changed drastically during the day. There might be more than we thought and they’re hiding it. I’ll find their camp, see the numbers, then tomorrow we can be certain of how many we need to get rid of them.”

  “Sounds good.” Rura stood, and Unika followed suit. “If you’re out all night, I can’t promise your meal will still be there.”

  Tau dryly laughed and pulled down the straps of his helm. “I’d be shocked if the plate was left untouched. Hopefully, shouldn’t take too long. The strides are too sluggish for them to have carried on much further.”

  Unika straightened his uniform and grinned. “Then we can get back home. I can’t wait to write to my mother and sisters of this adventure!”

  Rura gave him a sideways glance. “Adventure? We’ve been sleeping in bear shit for days, following some crappy bandits. Adventure is armies marching across the desert, ti
gers chasing their steps.”

  “Oh, Rura! That would be wonderful!” Unika responded. The pair crossed and disappeared beneath the night-blackened veils of moss.

  Tau waited until the sounds of their voices were drowned by the howling winds and swaying of the trees. The pine nearby scratched his arm when he squatted. He rubbed it while he listened. A relaxed black maw prowling between the branches spoke of a greater danger than the few skulls of underclothed and malnourished renegades. It was too calm; the cat should’ve pounced and torn him apart. It was as if it’d been charmed to sleep. One hand resting on his sword, he kept low between the heavily picked berry bushes, inspecting the floor in glimmers of speckled moonlight.

  Careful not to snap sticks or disturb any of the nocturnal beasts, he stuck to following the tracks’ strange story east. For four days, they’d followed a group of at least ten men. The further they pursued, the narrower the trail became. On the third day, Unika found a trunk covered in a spray of blood. They searched every bush, crevice and animal burrow in the area. There was nobody to answer their questions. Now, only two sets of feet remained.

  Tau narrowed his eyes and cut through the thick branches. Shadows on the floor ahead flickered and danced at the edge of the golden glow of a roaring campfire. Clicks and crackles set him alert as he avoided becoming tangled in roots. A scrape of steel forced a ready grip on his sword.

  The hay grasses spread on the floor beneath the umbrellas of bushes, and the threadbare fur blankets atop told Tau they were ready to rest for the night. The body of a deer, split at the gut, with a rusted knife at its side told of their hunger. No one was in sight. The metal rang in gradual, deliberate strokes. A taunting call.

  The closer he got to the campfire, the slower the scrapes became. This was a game. The floor was littered with idle hay needles where the bandits either ran or were dragged from rest. The meagre portion of venison sizzling in a cloud of steam said whoever was here wanted a meal regardless of the danger.

  On the opposite side of the camp, a syrupy crimson trickled down the maze-like ridges of a tree’s bark, forming a pool between two twisted roots. Following the blood up to the first branch, Tau saw a thin figure dressed in black holding an ebony dagger, sharpening idly with a rock. When he saw Tau, he turned and dropped to the ground.

  “So, you were the one scaring them?” Tau relaxed.

  The figure pulled down the black scarf covering the lower half of his face. Vakaar, a Silent-step hired killer, smirked. He had a manic glimmer in his sombre copper brown eyes, a thick scar branding the left of them, and another striking his throat. With the bronze skin and facial features of a southern tribesman, Tau believed he was a child abandoned by an unbound mother.

  When they first met, Vakaar had been using the alias of ‘Kaari’, a barman for the Sun tribe. After he killed the matriarch of the tribe who were bitter enemies of Tau’s family, Turpu of the Blood-and-Shadow, the experienced murderer had fled, Tau on his tail; Tau had overheard Turpu speaking terribly about his blood, not knowing who he was. He’d wanted the kill for himself. In the outer thickets of the forest, Vakaar overpowered the trainee and force-fed him a phial to knock him out cold. Hallucinations had fogged Tau’s unconscious until the early hours of the next day. Over the course of the next decade, the pair had met whenever Vakaar decided to tease Tau and test his abilities for his own amusement.

  “I wouldn’t call it scaring. You can’t scare dead bodies, can you?” Vakaar’s enchanting voice said. He tapped his lip with the engraved handle of the intricate dagger and rested his hand on Tau’s shoulder, intensely inspecting him. “My, my. Facial hair? Taller than me? Strength in those arms… What happened to the girly-looking boy who tackled me in the forest?”

  Tau brushed his hand away. “Seven years you’ve been saying that. The shock should’ve worn off by now.”

  “It brings me a sense of…” He snapped his fingers. “Pride. I’m proud you’ve grown into a challenge.”

  “Come on, Vakaar. I’ve not got time for that. Where are the bodies?”

  “Not even a small challenge? Tell you what, I’ll tell you what I did with them if you can disarm me.” He juggled his dagger into his left hand and withdrew the sword on his right.

  “I need to get back to camp. Tell me where they are and I’ll indulge you next time I see you.”

  “War waits for no warrior!” Vakaar bellowed in a rough voice, impersonating the Sun tribe war leader, Jabali. “I’m not certain I’ll be in these parts for much longer. Humour me.”

  Tau hesitated and stepped back. “Fine. Only to disarm? No tricks, no mushrooms, no phials?”

  “Yes. Cross my heart, under Mordufa’s eye.” Vakaar smirked and confidently stood in position beside the fire.

  Tau matched his opponent. His boots rifled the thin needles. He perfected his stance, keeping a firm grip on his two curved swords, two instruments he’d grown to care for over the years. The cutting edges would never be as defined as the blackened metal of the Silent-step, but they certainly killed enemies as easily with the right strength and control.

  “Three… two—” Vakaar interrupted the count and swiftly made the first move. His sword swung towards Tau’s arm. Steel clashed as it was met with a perfectly timed parry. The assassin spun on his feet as elegantly as a dancer, aiming his dagger to Tau’s side. Tau dodged the blow, keeping his swords close. Vakaar feigned a jab to the left then went to the right. Another block met his weapons.

  Snarling, Vakaar jabbed faster. Tau persevered. The dark clothes of his opponent blurred, his patience wearing thin. Complicated footwork forced him to step back over the ragged blankets. The power and speed overwhelmed. Tau’s hand jolted, nearly taking a slice to the flesh. He kept his eyes on Vakaar and his manic adrenaline, driving attacks to pressure him.

  Vakaar lunged. Tau stepped forward. Their swords crashed. Tau scraped his weapon down, screeching, before driving it up, hooking the curve. Growling, he knocked the sword out of Vakaar’s hands, sending it flying across the clearing. It landed squealing beside the fire, flames reflecting from its black surface.

  Vakaar held up his empty hand and slid his dagger back in its sheath. “I’m impressed. Some might call you a man now.”

  “If I weren't used to your speed, I would’ve lost a limb.” He put away his weapons. “I passed the challenge, where are the bodies?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t help you with that. You see, I had to keep the animals away while I picked off the bandits that wandered from their path. Did you not wonder why the creatures haven’t bothered your party when their prey rests from the cold?”

  Tau exhaled and walked to the fire. He brushed the surface of a large, flat rock and sat down. “You turned them into animal feed. Do you have any of their belongings?”

  Vakaar looked around the camp and leant back. “Unless you want some teeth. I’ve been collecting them – a gift for a friend.”

  “Nah, that won’t do. We’ll tell Jabali wildlife got to them first.” Tau sat back and narrowed his eyes. Vakaar prodded the burnt piece of cooking meat and ripped out a chunk like a starving man. “Why are you here, anyway? Seems a big job for one.”

  “An old lady requested it after her husband was killed on his travels. Normally for a group, there would be more, but the conflicts in the east have affected our work greatly. I suspect you’ve had similar issues amongst your brethren. Venison?” Vakaar asked, holding a savagely-chewed piece of charcoal.

  “No, thank you.” Tau held his revulsion. “You must’ve seen the movement so far. Masses have been sent there. It seems like more body carts are returning. We’re preparing for the worst. You remember Ebhi and Rura?”

  “Yes, I do.” Vakaar cackled then twitched back into seriousness.

  “It’s their tribes. Jabali has delayed us going because he doubts their ability. Now numbers are dwindling, there’s no option left.” The stress of the distant events had shown its fair share in Rura’s recent, foul behaviour.

  “The
east is such a wonderfully terrible place.” Vakaar devoured the remains of burnt meat. “If you do get sent there, you may see me not far behind.”

  Tau smirked and wiped down his knees before stretching. “The sound of body carts going empty appeals, does it?”

  Vakaar sucked the remains of deer from between his fingers and licked his lips. “It sounds like a fucking dream, brother. You see a dishonoured corpse, mutilated and decomposing. I see a pile of gold to fund my lifestyle. We Silent-step have a loving relationship with our luxury leathers and wine, but they don’t come cheap.”

  “Whereas we Sun tribe warriors give all our gold to be fucked by some middle-aged sterile woman and to get enough wood to keep our stone homes warm.”

  “Get one woman and your problem is solved. It’ll be cheaper, and they’ll keep your bed cosy.”

  “Nah, they’d want kids and binds.”

  “Well, something else you can do.” Vakaar leapt into Tau’s arms and clutched both hands around his neck. “We can follow the footsteps of your grandfather, Pazade! Handsome Tau, take me away from this troublesome life! Let us return to your tribe and live like lovers beside a river and make a colony of children!”

  Tau swung him side to side and laughed. “We shall return to Blood-and-White and make a Chieftess out of you. You’ll have the finest clothes and meals – nothing will be too good for my girl.”

  Vakaar planted a rough smooch on Tau’s cheek. Tau winced before Vakaar jumped out of his arms and picked up his sword. “Unfortunately, our time is cut short, warrior. Your brethren dawdle in the bushes to check you’re still alive.”

  Tau glanced and listened over the popping embers. Sneaky rustling and whispering confirmed someone was approaching. “Right. I may see you in the east, then.”

  “As long as we both survive,” Vakaar sneered. “If you turn left down the path where you came, there might be some bones. That particular predator wasn’t satisfied with its meal. Until next time, Tau.”