by Cassie Wolf
“You are the son of the warriors aren’t you? Ibhubesi blood?” the chubby woman asked with a beaming smile.
“Yes.” Zaki wrapped his palms around the cup and took the first bitter-sweet sip. “Last of them now.”
“Ah. It was a shame what happened to your family. I remember your father coming in here after hauling all day. Always worried, that man.”
“Turns out he had reason to be, eh?”
The woman’s happiness evaporated from her eyes. They squinted in his direction as she nodded. “I guess. What is your name?”
“I haven’t earnt one. I just came back from the trial and failed, so not expecting to get one anytime soon. Just call me Brother.”
“Okay, Brother.” The woman glanced over her shoulder before she lowered her tone. “I heard what your sister did. Although most won’t admit it, we were pleased to hear someone stood up to them.”
Zaki’s eyes widened. He locked his gaze with hers and tried to read any of the tell-tale signs of a liar, but she read honest and true, as did her glimmer of fear at having said the words.
“Tell me, Bee,” he said, swirling his cup in hand, “do any of the warriors who guard the Chief’s hut come in here?”
“Oh yes. All the time!”
“I don’t suppose you could tell me about their night shifts, could you?”
- CHAPTER ELEVEN -
It was the fourth night since she had been locked into the rooms and the novelty had already begun to wear off. When she was first left alone by Jasari, he sent in his female slaves with hot water to fill up the wooden bath. Masika scrubbed as hard as she could to get rid of the rancid stenches of blood, vomit, piss and faeces but even with the luxury soaps they had given her, she could still smell traces whenever she made a sudden turn.
After she had been cleaned, they brought in linen dresses for her to wear and impress the Chieftain and his family when they invited her to dinner. She glanced at herself in the mirror with the pale pink pastel coloured material draped over her frame and couldn’t help but feel sick to her stomach. Masika had always liked wearing the leather armour for when she went hunting but this, this just clung to her hourglass figure and plunged down her breasts as if for display. She guessed that was what the maidens had meant by “impress” the Chieftain and his family after they had left. She would never be able to hunt again, not unless she came close enough to cut off Jasari and Dia’s heads and stake them out on view.
Her stomach was swollen with the food they kept on feeding her and her mind was overwhelmed with all the different lifestyle rules they had prepared for her to live by. On the second day, a different woman came in with a stony face covered in scars, cradling mountains of scriptures and texts for her to read. Masika burst out crying the moment she tried to make sense of the painted black wriggles, confessing she had never been taught to do such a thing.
The only thing she liked about the hut was the open windows she had, one in her living space and one in her bedroom beside her bed. Both were little square boxes she could easily fit through, but the guards on constant patrol beneath them reminded her if she tried, she would be dead. The window looked down the hill to the small hut she once called home. Each night she would smile sadly and pray there would be news about her brother soon.
One morning when she awoke, she noticed the gap between the huts where her hut used to be. Her stomach knotted, bringing back all the same nausea she’d felt in the cell. Quickly, she threw on her dress and hammered at the door, screaming at the top of her lungs.
When her throat was burnt from yelling, a warrior finally came to peek through.
“Shut up in there!” he yelled through the cracks.
“Where the fuck is my house? I want to speak to Jasari! Where is my brother?”
The warrior didn’t respond to any of her questions. Instead, he simply walked away while the heartbroken Masika continued to batter the door. She didn’t care if it came off its hinges; she was owed answers.
After spending most of the day balled up beside the door with her eyeballs so dry from crying she could feel them scraping her eyelids, Masika crawled towards her bedroom and sat up to glance outside. The night was cloaking its dusky, cooling mist around the village, and a slight breeze brushed her skin. When she stared at the empty space which was once her home, her stomach felt as though it was aching. She wanted to scream and lash out at the air just to try and remove the edge of darkness it brought. Her brother, her siblings, her parents, everyone was dead.
Now she was a hidden mistress for the future Chief and at what cost? Her blood, blood she had been proud to call her own, had been wiped from the tribe as if they didn’t matter. As if the great warriors from the past, ones like Nuru who had fought to defend the village, had never existed. Brother wasn’t coming back. Jasari knew her rage would be at its peak with the knowledge and her desire to run away would be at its utmost right now; it was why he wasn’t coming to break the news to her just yet.
Masika glanced around her living space, feeling disgust and sadness chewing at her soul, grinding her down with every passing moment. Where she slept may have felt nice, she might have luxuries that others didn’t and ones she may never have had with Brother, but all the walls represented was another form of prison.
She settled beneath the fur blankets, tiredness hitting her hard from all the emotional strain. All she could think about how much she would give just to see him one more time.
A few hours had passed when Masika was disturbed in her sleep. Just beneath her window, she could hear the sound of a male struggling for breath. Terror took over any sadness she had left as she widened her eyes and sat upright in bed.
A thudding was getting closer, as if they were climbing up the sides of the hut with great difficulty. Masika held her breath. Her heart pounded and her head spun with fear. She reached over to the side table and grabbed the pitcher full of water. There were grunts just below the window now. She wanted to scream, and her mind was telling her to but when she opened her mouth, no sound came out. She was frozen.
“Fuck’s sake,” a familiar voice muttered.
Masika’s jaw dropped open the moment she heard the husked tone. No, it can’t be she thought to herself. She was just imagining this, he was dead, it had been confirmed as much with the destroying of the house. Plus, all the guards were on duty on the ground outside.
The moment the burnt fingertips grasped over the edge, the most inaudible noise escaped from her. The tightness in her stomach felt in an instant it was loosening but heart continued to hammer, but not out of fear. The tears formed while her frame was shaking all over. Without another moment’s hesitation, Masika threw herself over to the window, just as he was pulling up his body.
“Brother!” she couldn’t help but exclaim.
“Shhhh!” he urged her with a huge grin on his face. With a final push, he managed to bring his shoulders through the window, then his leg. Masika placed her good hand on his waist and tried to help him inside, her face scrunching with emotion.
The moment he plonked on the bed, she threw her arms tightly around him and sobbed hysterically into his chest. Zaki wrapped his arms around her slender shoulders and brought her in as close as he possibly could. The pair spent the moment embracing, and every fear and every bad thought was pushed aside. They were both alive and neither of them could believe it.
Masika sniffed a couple of times and the strong scent of the pure orange alcohol on her brother’s breath hit her. She gazed into his wide eyes and noticed it was him swaying and not her shaking which was causing the movement.
“Have you… have you been drinking?” she asked, wiping her snotty nose.
Zaki chewed on his lip and pressed both of his palms against her temples. The smell of the sweetness on his breath made Masika feel quite queasy but she wouldn’t let it spoil the moment. “I have, Masi. I bought a guard drinks… he pointed me in the right direction to be with you.”
Masika leant her nose against his a
nd her lip trembled. She had missed him more than she had ever realised. For the past few days, her mind had been willing to accept his death and grieve for him but yet, against all odds, here he sat, strong and healthy as ever with a smile on his face that brought back the feeling of safety.
“I’ve missed you, Brother. I thought you were dead. I thought maybe animals - or even warriors! Predators…” she said, her voice getting higher pitched.
Zaki brought a finger to press against her lips and shook his head. “I am fine. They sent me out far, but I battled it all. I did.”
Masika felt the relief and weight lifting from her shoulders as she gazed into her brother’s eyes. She pressed her lips against each of his cheeks in turn. “I’ve missed you,” was all she could repeat. “Don’t leave me again.”
Zaki moved his spinning head from side to side and instinctively pressed his own lips against her rosy cheeks. “I’m going nowhere,” he whispered.
As he said those words, Masika pulled away and gazed into his glazed, wide eyes. In that moment, her love for him was overflowing. She wanted to be closer to him than she ever had before. She brought her fingertips to stroke through his facial hair and nuzzled his nose with hers. After hesitating, she brushed her lips past his and pulled him into a passionate kiss.
The pair were lost in sensation for a moment before Zaki’s hands wandered over her frame. As the passion rose between them, he stripped her of the silken nightdress to reveal her bruised curves and was soon directing her slowly onto the bed.
Masika felt the warmth rising as her blood pumped with desire. She had ached to have him like this for years. She had known it would happen one day but now all care was stripped from them both and they were so happy to be alive, this seemed to be the perfect chance.
The siblings were soon hastily rubbing their heated sexes against the other, writhing with wanting. Any awkwardness she had imagined for their first time had soon melted away. As Zaki took her virginity, Masika clung onto him tightly as the pain soared between her legs. But that was soon replaced with pleasure, one of which she had never felt before in her life.
- CHAPTER TWELVE -
A couple of hours passed before Zaki awoke. At first, his eyelids struggled to open in the darkness and the unexpected weight on his chest made him struggle to move. Grunting, he blinked a couple more times before it hit him.
Masika was curled against him with a thin sheet wrapped around her naked body and a huge smile on her face while she snoozed lightly. His head was dry and aching from the strong alcohol a couple of hours before and he smacked his palm on his forehead and felt the deep twists of regret churn.
Taking a breath, he slowly pushed her slender frame away from him, being careful not to wake her. After he was sure he was safe to move, he shuffled towards the window, putting his layers back on, and felt the sick burning the back of his throat as he looked down. The guards had not yet changed shift and Mother Luaani was still charting her white orb across the sky. As silently as he possibly could, Zaki slowly slid down the wall.
His head felt like there were tiny ants crawling all over his brain, throwing him off his balance as he tried to grip the stray pieces of rigid metal among the logs. Finally, he landed gracefully. Taking note of his surroundings, he saw that the closest guard to him was standing by the corner with his back turned. The others must have been walking through the village for their late night checks.
He dashed through the shadows and drunkenly jumped over the perimeter wall. He stifled a howl as a bladed spike caught his knee and ripped open a new cut. Clenching his teeth and clinging onto the wound, he swore under his breath, then threw himself into the nearby foliage the moment he saw figures approaching. Once their marching footsteps had gone by, he jolted down the hill as quick as he possibly could.
Passing all the night-time huts and the eerily-empty trading stalls, he felt the blood trickle down his knee but his legs could not stop. He had no idea where he was going to go. With his home nothing but a pile of rubble and Inari not allowed to take him in, he found himself regretting ever coming back at all.
Slowing his pace, he strolled down the hill and headed in the direction of the rubble. The warrior from earlier in the day still was standing strong, almost as if he never needed any sleep. With his heart racing and the vomit threatening to emerge at the back of his throat, he nodded towards the male, bringing his palms down to his knees.
“Listen, you are a warrior and doing your job, but I really need some rest. Is there anywhere I am ‘allowed’ to go?” Zaki asked.
The warrior broke out of his statue-like trance and nodded. “Tribesmen have shelters where they keep their tools near their harvest. Fisherman have shacks for rare nocturnal fish.”
He blinked at the warrior and brought his hand back up to wipe the layer of sweat from his forehead. “I have permission to do that?”
“Warriors don’t check those places.” The guard glanced at Zaki quickly before going back to staring straight ahead.
Furrowing his brow, Zaki nodded a couple of times and mumbled “thank you” under his breath before he set out for the lake just beyond the village. As he strolled, for the first time in a while the last thing he wanted to think about was his sister. Every time he caught a glimpse of her in his mind, the regret would hit that bit harder and make him want to heave.
All his life, he had been brought up within this tribe and believed that his mate would be Masika. Every other family were bound to their relatives where they could. He had accepted it long ago and would often catch her dreaming of the day of the ceremony. In the past couple of months, she had even tried to kiss him as passionately as lovers do a few times but he managed to pull away before it happened. He loved his sister dearly, but he had always felt he wanted to protect her, not to mate with her. A few times over the years, especially in his early teens, he had found himself attracted to some of the other female hunters and healers within the village. It became so confusing for him that he had to go speak to Inari because he felt guilty.
When he had gone to see the witch doctor, Inari sat him down with a calming brew on a pile of soft cushions while the incense burnt strong. In a soothing tone, he reassured Zaki what he felt was actually more normal then he would believe, but he didn’t dare speak outside the tribe’s traditions more then he could. He told him instead that when the time came, he would be able to mate with Masika when it was needed and might find in time that he came to see her in different light.
That never happened. All Zaki had wanted to do over the years was punch the males who would comment on his sisters hips or breasts in the face. She took this as jealousy rather than what it really was to him: protectiveness.
A few hours ago, he’d been blind drunk and could barely even remember climbing the wall to see her. The only thing which was clear in his mind was the relief that fell from him while he was hugging her. Apart from that, he wasn’t sure what had happened, or that he had even mated with her at all.
When he eventually reached the gates, he looked towards the warrior guarding and bit on his lip. “I need to fish.”
“Be back by dawn, failure,” the warrior spat and moved out of his way.
Zaki was beyond caring for the word. He knew for the next few weeks, most would be ordered to address him as such until the term had passed. He just wanted to lie down and clean up the blood on his leg.
Hobbling across the grass, he soon entered the little fishing area. It was always surprisingly empty with most of the workers choosing to farm rather than wait for hours for fish to come chewing on the bait. Most of the poor creatures had been thinned out long ago, but now and again there might have been a small catch to get.
Lined up at lake’s edge stood five shacks the size of a single room beside each other. Each one looked as if it would collapse with the slightest wind, creaking even in the still air. With the moonlight dazzling over the waters, Zaki headed inside the nearest shelter and sighed.
The room was smaller than t
he hut he had built for himself and his sister all those years ago but it was very cosy. With a candle at the side and a fire pit near the centre, he could see how some of the fishermen decided to live out here instead. The bed was a pile of chunky wooden joists pushed together with a couple of idle nails sticking out. At least the mattress appeared comfy, he thought to himself, eyeing the straw sticking out from the sides.
Zaki set his bag to the side and grabbed the cleanest-looking cloth he could find to quickly swipe at the new cut. His mouth was dry but the fatigue from the climbing and all the time out in the wilds was finally catching up with him.
Crawling over to the bed, he slumped into the comfort of the clinging straw and shut his eyes. The world around felt as though it was buzzing and twisting his brain while he attempted to let himself slumber. All he could think of was what he had done to his sister.
By the morning, the sound of a horn echoed over the entire village. Zaki opened his dry eyes wide and glanced beneath the door. It was past dawn and he was still in the hut. Swearing under his breath, he quickly slid out of the bed and fought the urge to vomit all the alcohol coating his stomach and instead gulped down the rest of the flask of water.
His mouth had a hairy texture to it and it tasted foul. Despite the draining hangover, Zaki grabbed his bag and ran out of the door.
“Fuck’s sake!” he couldn’t help but yell when the horn rang out for a second time. As he ran towards the gate, he was expecting the guard to send him for punishment, but to his surprise, no one was there.
Curious, he strode through the village to see all the morning workers and homemakers forming together in a crowd at the entrance. Everyone seemed to be muttering under their breath and making quick comments as the gates opened, some saying it was a horn of war while others were saying it was a sign of a gift. As Zaki edged to the front, he thought back to what Inari had said the previous night about going to meet visitors. He’d thought he meant herb traders or scripture-seekers, who he would often entertain, but perhaps not.
