Tribal Dawn: Mordufa: Volume Three

by Cassie Wolf

  “Don’t let age deceive you. Jocelin says fetch and the mutt Atsu mauls. The other threat could be her son, Chika, but he’s not going to be there. He’s going on a registered visit to the Moon tribes.” Leko brought out another rolled scroll and handed it over. “Take that star chart with you or at least remember its placements. It’ll reaffirm your story.”

  He glanced down at his empty plate and then back at his master. He watched him nibbling his dinner at a slow pace, like a sloth he’d once hypnotically watched for several hours in a dry storm. “I will make the arrangements to depart tomorrow.”

  “Vakaar,” Leko said, pulling his arm. “One bit of advice. As much as you despise the mask, I’m leaving it to you personally to take. For twenty-eight years I have brought you up to be the person you are and not once did you ask where you came from. This may be the last time you can.”

  He guzzled the rest of his warm drink and smirked. “Mordufa brought me here.” He turned and saluted his master. “Keep my seat warm and try not to die in it.”

  - CHAPTER FIVE -

  The Plesibulo Sudasters were celebrated throughout the lands. Alluring, middle-aged women from the eastern Hartcoriyo tribe slept with men or women in exchange for money and teachings. For many tribes, their houses were an integral part of warrior training.

  When the Krenei – the ruler of all regions – noticed the Sun tribe warriors dwindling seventy years before, and not through conflict, he sent elders to investigate. As times changed and healing became more reliable, so too did the health of the people. After training, fighting or anything else that raised the blood, warriors impulsively mated and this often resulted in a pregnant woman. Krenei Ranga saw this problem and had a house built for a group of women he purchased from the Hartcoriyo tribe, undeterred by the protests from his followers at their harlot ways.

  The women weren’t purely known for their talents in mating. Skilled manipulators, they whispered words into the mind to control the conscious. Those who struggled with the sight of war became unaffected. Those who grieved became numb to the pain and more productive in their line of work. On the condition the warrior proved themselves worthy of learning and had the money, they would perform the process known as being put under the medu trau.

  Both the Moon tribe and Sudasters had strict rules on who they recruited. They had to be barren and proven so on paper signed by healers, elders or witch doctors. The Moon tribe preferred to train men and women who had devoted, innocent charts. The Sudasters favoured those who had strings of lovers in their history, careless for their feelings after they were finished with them. That and the power of manipulation.

  The stone residence was built in the shadow of the Krenei’s castle like the dirty, shameful secret it was meant to be. Upon entering, the hall greeted its clients with cheap drapes and cloths, violets, fuchsia, scarlets and indigos loosely hanging where doors were meant to be, purposefully displaying the promiscuity of the women inside, wearing next to no clothing or none at all. A rickety staircase led to another floor, a sickeningly sweet smell of perfume clinging to it. There were doors here. This was where the warriors were led for either medu trau whispers or purchased intimacy.

  Tau sat on the chair beside the worn dresser, not looking the woman on the floral bed in the eye. She rubbed the redness around her neck. He shoved on his boots and ignored her gasps for air.

  Sirlia, a grey-haired and bright-eyed elderly lady, had approached him when he was fifteen. She wanted to teach him for his similarities to his grandfather, a man she had a soft spot for in her younger years. Of course, as time went by, she learnt he wasn’t the same type of lover. Tau learnt the routines easily and performed as skilfully, but a burst of aggression came with it at the end. It was never in the form of anger infused beatings; his hand would wrap around her throat and squeeze the Sudaster’s fragile neck.

  “Tau,” she said dryly, “we can’t have this happening every time. You’re coming in increasingly when you should be stopping. We’re not young women. This—” She pointed to the hand marks around her neck. “—could easily kill one of us, especially given your strength.”

  Tau sat back and placed a couple of coins on the side. “I know, girl. Take it as a compliment. You make me lose control.” He grinned uneasily. She pulled a face, and he turned serious. “I’m trying to get to grips with it.”

  Sirlia narrowed her eyes. She pulled her robe over her shoulders. “The men I have bedded who do that do so because they have a power crisis of some sort. I know you’re uncomfortable with women taking control physically. But you’re not trying to actually dominate us – no. No, not that.”

  Tau tied his bracers. “Interesting you’re so certain. Power crisis, eh? I’ve never been one for power. Maybe it’s a lion thing.”

  She pushed herself off the bed. “No, darling. It’s not. I believe it’s to do with your upbringing…”

  “Ah. Here’s the truth of it. Medu trau, am I right?”

  “Maybe.” Sirlia walked him to the door and joined her hands together. “I know you’re against it—”

  “It took six of our men to take one down who came across his signal thing, whatever you call it.”

  “That is unfortunate and rare, darling. But like I said, I don’t know if we can keep up. It’s not your fault you can’t control how you show passion. Other men don’t like to see the marks of the person before them – it destroys the illusion of caring for one.” She smiled sweetly and handed him his weapon. “Think about it.”

  Tau slipped the short blade back in its sheath. “It might not be a problem at all soon. Jabali’s received another request for help. It looks like me and a few others are the only ones left to answer it.” He gave her a grim smile and caressed her cheek. “There will be no one in the east that’ll compare to you.”

  Sirlia laughed. “You need to work on your charm, darling. It’s transparent.”

  He held a hand over his heart and feigned a pained look. “Crushing me, girl, you know that?”

  “Get out, Tau. Good luck in the east.” She sniggered, pushing him out.

  “If I come back in a cart, my spirit will be expecting to be known as a legend here,” he said as she shut the door.

  He descended the creaky stairway. The screams of the women and the grunts of his brethren were off-putting. The perfume spun his head. He held onto the slimy bannister and got to the entrance. Before he reached the door, another opened it.

  “Four times in a week, Ebhi?” Tau asked, startled.

  Ebhi, born in the Aqua tribes, was the best swordsman of the five friends. He had ebony skin and thick raven dreadlocks intertwined with pink and blue seashells. He stood strong in Sun tribe gear, always ready for anything that was thrown at him.

  Ebhi looked nervous, eyes darting in different directions. “Yes,” he said in a well-spoken tone, “Jabali has confirmed we are going east. I am having the last of the medu trau. I should be ready when we depart.”

  Tau folded his arms. “As long as you’re sure it’s what you want.” A naked woman walked past, giggling. Tau lowered his voice. “Do you know when we’re going?”

  “In a couple of days. Jabali will be able to tell you. The last I saw him, he was in the company of Mala, holding a hiring order.”

  “What?!” Tau said, louder than he meant. “Whose hired him?”

  “He said he is going home.” Ebhi shrugged. “I do not know how true that is. I got the impression your father was the Chief of Blood-and-White, not his.”

  Tau shook his head in disbelief. “My father wouldn’t have bought him back. No way. He couldn’t stand the family ten years ago, and from the wording in his recent letter, his family are worse nowadays.”

  “Mala has been quiet about the war. I suspect he has been planning to return home for some time,” Ebhi said. His eyes widened, and he visibly gulped.

  Tau glanced over his shoulder. A porcelain-skinned woman, shrouded in white netting, stood halfway down the stairs, beaded turquoise and pearl jewe
llery hanging loosely from her thin arms. Her silver hair glowed as brightly as Luaani shone in lakes, emitting a blessed, mystic aura. He nodded to Ebhi. “I’ll see you in the inn later.”

  Tau strode into the cold air of the Sun tribe. When he first arrived, the grey stone homes and stalls seemed almost too good to be true. The path was paved in brown, slate and black stones, carts bumping as they wheeled passed, wobbling their wares. Pale people were wrapped in burly furs to keep out the frost, rosy pink cheeks and blonde hair tucked beneath matching hats. Every now and then, the older generation snarled at the likes of Tau’s colouring. They had misguided ideas of uncontrollable savageness stemming from the southern tribes or the east, it didn’t matter which.

  The cooling shade of the castle brushed his skin. He had become numb to its harshness over time. The warriors in matching attire, silver studs and leather, clashed, banged and battered swords against each other, teeth gritted with determination to impress the ranks above and to be recognised for their ability and precision. Some who were known to be great had lessened their skill, fearing war. They didn’t want to be sent to a foreign and hostile world where the sun burned the skin as much as toes burnt a toasty brown in the desert. Some had feigned injuries or, like Mala, sent money to their families to hire them and escape it altogether.

  The barracks to the left of the grandeur of the Krenei’s castle was nothing but a bland stack of stone boxes, a tan fur flag plopped on the top, adorned with swirly and spiky sun decorations. The doors were always open to allow easy mustering in case of an emergency, making it as icy inside the halls as it was out. Sconces lit the walls, marigold balls of flicking flames against the grey masonry losing the battle to keep the place warm. They curled and hissed, diminishing and dropping ash on the floor to be swirled by the breeze and fly free into the air.

  The smell of iron, metal and the basic food they were served in the dining hall drifted with the smoke. Most of the trainees didn’t stay in the barracks if they could help it. They made a point of getting work, whether it be to help the Teba Kardier camp build pens for their animals, that cursed old lady reach the dusty tome on the top shelf, or keeping guard around the Krenei’s castle. To stay within the barracks was depressing. There was nothing to do but eat less than impressive meals or sleep in the tiny box rooms that were assigned when first arriving. If you had free time and any of higher rank noticed, you were ordered to train until your body ached and bled.

  They were given the option of purchasing a home if they needed in the village after a year of training. Tau was going to, but instead, the group of friends decided they would share two and split the fee. It was costly to live the life of a Sun tribe villager, even more than what a golden warrior could afford. Rura and Tau shared one, while Ebhi, Unika and Mala purchased a slightly bigger dwelling.

  Tau scanned the hall for signs of his Heior, Jabali. The sixty-something-year-old man was stern but fair. In a room, his equipment marked him out as a war leader. Pieces that were ordinarily inlaid with silver on the arms of a trainee were hardened gold, encrusted with ruby and sapphire gems. Despite the fancy armour, his jaw and tone carried the signs of a war-torn soldier, as did the scars on his face from meeting the end of a blade.

  “Velaquez,” that familiar voice called as Tau was about to give up his search.

  “Yes, Heior.” Tau straightened respectfully.

  “We have received scrolls and pleas from the east,” Jabali said, tired eyes red and wrinkles from his recent tensions prominent. “You and your friends will be sent over the course of the next few days.”

  “Of course. We’ll be ready to leave when called.”

  “Even if you weren’t, you would still be sent to the hostile land of Inferno.” Jabali rubbed his marked chin. “This war is getting out of control, even by my standards. The families of the fallen are blaming the Krenei for what’s happening. It’s a high possibility you will die. This isn’t lugging around some blocks for a worker across the street. These Aqua women are dirty fighting savages and won’t be like anything you have seen in your life – despite your own ‘wild’ background.”

  Tau nodded. “I understand, Heior. I’m sure my brethren and I will be ready. We have been here several years now.”

  “Don’t get smart with me, Velaquez. You are dismissed. Enjoy the ales of the Sun while you can.” He flicked his hand and walked away.

  Back outside, Tau’s stomach churned peculiarly. It wasn’t something he was used to. Every step on dry stone and soil worsened his nausea, swaying acid up his gullet.

  Opposite the barracks stood a dim, circular inn. Every evening since his arrival, it had been regular for him and his friends to drink there, if nothing else to ease the pain in his muscles from their extensive training. It was here that he first met Vakaar under the persona of Kaari. He gave them herb-laced drinks that relaxed better than any of the others, melting their aches from the first sip.

  The usual old men were outside, staggering back and forth, laughing at invisible things and pointing to the sky, their cups spilling out the cheapest, gut killing, brown ale. One nodded, acknowledging Tau. The other gave him a disgruntled glare, one of prejudice. Tau ignored it, pushing open the creaky doors.

  The place was drab and had little light to guide the way. Tables and chairs, cheap and rickety, were scattered around the room, the cold, grey stone floor scratched where they had been dragged around by drunken men and women. Candles flickered low, just alight enough to see the faces of your companions. Barrels were stacked and lined up to the side, and the floor was stained with plum-purple and singed-brown from drink or blood, no one could differentiate. The smell of sweet crushed apples and berries drifted in the air with the reek of tar-leaf smoke, a sickly combination but one the regulars were used to.

  Five chairs, two empty, were in the shaded corner. Unika, Rura and Mala were settled, gloves off and hands hugging the warmth of their cups. Rura, looking bored, sat up and waved the instant he saw Tau as if he was a saviour from the conversation of the other two.

  Mala turned around and grunted a greeting before turning back. He had never gotten on with Tau. Both born and raised in the Blood-and-White tribe, Tau romanced Mala’s sister for seven days. She declared to the village she was pregnant. Of course, the infant wasn’t his and was instead that of the messenger and healer Rudo’s, as she had confessed to him. It didn’t stop her family attempting to make a claim to get into the line. Jocelin and Nyah saw through the lies and ordered Mala’s father to teach the boy some respect or he’d lose his head for bringing up a deceiving fiend. As much as it pained his father, there was only one place that he could learn respect: the Sun tribe.

  When Tau and Mala met, there was little friendly talk between them. The night Vakaar murdered Turpu, Tau and he had quarrelled, Mala absurdly, too drunk to even stand. The next day, Mala went a taunt too far, calling Tau a sister-fucker because of his father’s heritage. Tau had vaulted over the dining table and brutally stabbed him in the eye.

  Unfortunately for Mala, the socket became infected and the orb had to be removed. The linen eyepatch he now wore was strangely an improvement on the stout, angry-looking man.

  Tau went to the bar and ordered his warmed wine from Kizzie, the blonde, sour-pouting barmaid, and sat down with his friends.

  In the low light, the fingers of flame lit up Rura’s face. He was peaky and at the right angle, his lip quivered. It was hard to tell whether the cause was the weather or the stress. Rura had been brooding for months.

  “I don’t care what you say, Mala. Luaani is not a fearful goddess. She is pure and whole,” Unika said.

  “Every god and goddess is fearful. They’ll kill us all the fucking same,” Mala snapped.

  Tau raised his eyebrow and took a swig. “Have you guys been told by Jabali yet?”

  Unika instantly stopped, and in the blink of an eye, a cheerful smile beamed brightly in the darkness. “Yes, he did. It will be fantastic! Inferno lands all the way on the other side of Vuu
nis! We will get to see the seas and the creatures in the forests!”

  “That’s not why we’re going, you fucknut,” Rura hissed.

  Tau glanced in his direction and frowned. “It’s his way of seeing war, Rura. It’s a way of coping.”

  “I know. Suppose it’s better than what Ebhi is fucking doing. Numbing his brain to kill his sisters… it doesn’t sit right with me.”

  “I saw him in the house when I came out. He’s getting the final stage of it done over the next few days. You should be happy about it, Rura; it means your people will be protected, and Ebhi is a fucking monster of a warrior when he gets going.”

  “My people are strong enough without help. We have hundreds of Chiefs and thousands of armies.” Rura sulked and faced away.

  Tau tapped him on the shoulder. He was brushed off. “Rura, have you thought about getting something before we go? I don’t mean medu trau. Maybe something from the healers. Something with a kick that won’t give you hangovers.”

  “No. I don’t want that shit in my veins. When we go there, I’ll be fighting with every bit of strength I have, raw and savage just like the bitches who are invading my lands. I don’t need to be emotionless to slaughter the enemy.” He shimmied past Tau to the bar for a refill.

  Mala silently sipped his ale. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” he finally said. “I’m going back home. Well, I’m going to travel for a year before I get there.”

  Tau gave a fake grin. “Oh yes. Did my father purchase you?”

  “No.” He shuffled uneasily. “My father did.”

  “Did he? Shitting gold now, eh? From recollection, your family at best got warrior’s earnings. That is nowhere near enough to hire a Sun tribe fighter, and you know it.”

  “I might’ve helped them with the fee, yes. I never wanted to come here if you remember correctly.”

  “Yes, I do. Still, we’ve trained for years, and now the first signs of a real war and you’re leaving? That reeks of cowardice, Mala. I doubt your father will be proud of that.”