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

by Cassie Wolf

  As the final horn droned across the village, Zaki winced as the sound hammered his fragile brain. He tried not to sway into the people around, the heat of the crowd making the dizziness near-unbearable.

  The gates screeched and scratched open against the ground and the witch doctor entered with a tribal army of twenty men, covered in leathers and scars near head to toe and pierced with shining pieces of metal in nearly every bit of visible skin. Some of them had inked pictures of various animals over their scars and carried well-crafted spears and swords.

  Zaki furrowed his brow, focusing his glance on their paint, which had almost entirely faded and melted in the heat. From what he could tell, the colours were red and white.

  Inari pushed his wooden mask from his face and nodded towards the crowd. “My brothers and sisters, it is an honour today that we welcome our guests. They have travelled through the jungle for days and nights to pass within the walls of our community. I trust that everyone will treat them with the utmost respect.” The witch doctor beamed. He moved to the side as the other warriors parted to make a path. “May I present to you all Chieftain Pazede of the Blood-and-White tribe and his two Mascarde Doltas.”

  - CHAPTER THIRTEEN -

  Masika woke in the early hours of the morning, the dull sounds of the welcoming horn drumming at her ears. Panicking, she opened her eyes and let out a sigh the moment she saw her brother had already managed to get out. For a second, she had thought the horn might have heralded public punishment and he had been caught sneaking out.

  With a big smile on her face, she pushed herself up in the bed and brought her knees to her chest. Between her legs ached from the previous night but she didn’t care. She had finally mated with the only male she loved in the world. Even as drunk as he was, it didn’t matter to her. She was not at all knowledgeable about the effects of alcohol and the thought didn’t even cross her mind that it was an accidental act. To her, he felt the same way.

  She pushed herself from the bed and picked up the red silken dress she had been wearing all week. Tying the thin ribbon around her waist, she gasped with horror when she saw her mattress out the corner of her eye. The light-coloured sheet had a dried patch of blood from where she had broken.

  “No, no,” she whispered and ran towards the pitcher by the side. Making a quick rag out of old garments, she hurried over to the stain and tried to scrub as hard as she possibly could, her knuckles baring white from the force. But the stain wouldn’t disappear. In fact, the dried edges smudged out to make it worse. With gritted teeth and cursing beneath her breath, she continued to try to remove it. If Dia, Jasari or anyone saw, they would know what it was. If they found out, they would kill at the very least her brother, if not both of them.

  “Masika?” a sweet voice echoed outside the door.

  “One moment!” Masika shrieked and hid the cloth in the chest of drawers before pulling off the sheets and bundling them inside quickly. “Come in!”

  The servant who had been assigned to work with her was a young girl, only twelve years of age, but had been born into the hut as a garasum, a child born outside of binding or knowledge of a mate. With sleek, jet black hair and dull coffee eyes, she had the appearance of a slave who had reached her limit. She wore the same clothes as all the other female slaves within the hut village, charcoal rags which swamped her skinny frame, and had a red-painted basket clutched within her bony hands.

  “Chieftain Jasari requested I come to aid you with getting ready.”

  “Oh… yes.” Masika brushed down her dress and gave a forced grin. “May I ask what for?”

  The garasum slave bowed her head and placed the wicker basket on the table, taking out the wooden brush and the few pieces of decorative pieces for her hair. “Chieftain Pazade of the Blood-and-White tribe has arrived with his daughters. You are expected to greet them in the hall and then wait in here until they visit your rooms.”

  Masika furrowed her brow with confusion and sat herself down on the chair. Over the years, Inari had mentioned other tribes to her and her brother. Tribes which had the same first name were believed to be sisters, those who started within the same bloodpool and usually retained a neutral position with each other. The second part of the name was a show of the power and type of warriors they had for war. Shadow was the dominant and usually when the sisters had to battle together, they would hold the Chief of War who would decide on the numbers he needed, and they would also represent the highest number of physical fighters. Stones were a mix of healers and fighters, while White was known purely for its skilled healers.

  Masika didn’t know much about the Blood-and-White tribe, although she didn’t know much of any other tribes at all. If she was going to learn, it was going to be under this roof under the banner of diplomacy.

  The slave brushed Masika’s raven curls, tugging them harshly to the point that she could feel hair pulling from the scalp. She back-brushed a thick amount of hair on the top of her head, pinning it to keep its puffed-up appearance. After that, she braided two idle plaits either side of her face and decorated them with red and black beads before she finished off by pinning feathers here and there.

  After her hair was done, Masika was led down into the trokhosi room. The warriors were all standing strong, their impressive armour near gleaming even in the dimness of the room. Standing either side of the trokhosi seat were the sisters with their hair tied up in similar styles and wearing dresses which clung onto everything as if they were on display, apart from Gugu, who looked like she was about to collapse, still with a large wad of padding wrapped around her head. The Chief’s mate-sister stood directly beside the throne, adopting a sour expression when Masika entered. None of the other sisters, nor anyone else, glanced in her direction as she was led to stand just behind them.

  The silence was incredibly awkward. Gugu glared over her shoulder and bared her teeth with disgust before another sibling patted her on the arm to turn back around. Masika kept her face as neutral as possible while they waited for the guests’ arrival.

  Finally the sound of marching feet approached the doors. Even the warriors glanced at each other when they heard the timed beat of the steps. They sounded as if they were more disciplined than even the Blood-and-Shadow army.

  The doors finally burst open. Chieftain Jasari led the way with this other male who must have been Pazade. Straight away, Masika raised an eyebrow at his appearance. The male wasn’t as old as she was expecting, in fact she was incredibly surprised by how youthful his body was. He wasn’t as muscled as Jasari but she could tell he was just as strong, if not more so, from how healthily his skin glowed. Wearing barely any clothes at all, every scar and marking on him was striking, she felt her heart skip a beat with wonder. Furs were wrapped tightly around his waist with decorated dual swords of ivory either side, both of craftsmanship she had never seen. Over his chest he wore two crossed leather belts strung with pouches. But the thing which mystified her the most was that on his head he wore a large animal skull that covered his entire face, painted in blood-red and white. All she could see were his narrow eyes, which were an incredibly rare green leaf colour and glistened as he scanned the room.

  “Welcome, Chieftain Pazade,” Jasari spoke in an unusually warm voice. Masika couldn’t help but notice at how strained he appeared while forcing the tone. “This is my sister-mate and my daughters.”

  Pazade didn’t say a word. Instead he respectfully bowed his head to each while they greeted him with a few words. When he came to Gugu, he stopped in front of her for a moment to inspect the padding before his eyes drew to Masika.

  “This one is not your daughter. Is this a server of yours?” Pazade asked smoothly. He folded his arms and tilted his skull to the side, eyes narrowing.

  Masika felt her cheeks burn as the sisters all turned to give her a look of disgrace. Jasari blinked and the forced grin faded. “No. She is not a slave. She is going to be one of the wives for Dia.”

  Pazade spun back around. “Mhmm. Seems you’
re looking outside your own blood. Where would my daughters fit in with this one already a spare bind, as you call it?”

  Masika widened her eyes and couldn’t stop herself glaring at Jasari. Her heart pounded with anger and her face was becoming crimson for a very different reason than before. Over the years, he had harassed her family as if she was the only source that they would accept outside his own blood. He had tortured her brother and her and she didn’t doubt for a second he had set Zaki up to fail deliberately. But not even a week had gone by since she had been forced to accept the offer and Jasari had already sought out other binds for Dia.

  As her mind turned over and over, a gasp escaped her lips when she understood their conversation back in the cell. He had wanted her to pick death, she had not once doubted that, but now she realised exactly why. Jasari had sent for this Chieftain and his daughters in the hopes Masika would pick the alternative and her brother would have been told the news of her demise.

  Jasari shuffled on the spot but brought out his forced grin once more. “She can show your daughters how happy she is here and what it means to her to become bound to my son.”

  Pazade quickly glanced at Masika’s bandaged fingers and stepped forward. He brought the warmth of thick-skinned hands over her knuckles as she winced in pain. “How did this happen to you, girl?”

  Masika caught Jasari’s eyes. He was scared. Right now she could tell this Chief the truth of everything that had happened. He would never want his daughters to stay here if she confessed.

  “No, look at me.” Suddenly, Pazade wrapped his fingers around her neck and tilted her to meet his eyes. “How did you get this injury?”

  All the sisters had turned around in shock at his action. Even Jasari didn’t seem too pleased with how he was treating her.

  Masika stuttered with fear while the pressure around her windpipe made her head swim. She coughed but didn’t dare turn away from those green eyes. “I crushed it in a door.”

  Pazade blinked at her and kept her in his grip. Keeping her face as straight as possible, he eventually let go and turned around to Jasari. “I want to speak to this one on my own later. For now, please tell me the story of how your daughter is missing an entire fucking ear.”

  - CHAPTER FOURTEEN -

  After Inari made his announcement to the crowd, everyone was lost in whispers about the unusual appearance of the guest Chieftain and his daughters. Not only did Pazade strike them as unusual with his skull helm and barely no armour, his daughters were more of a mystery than himself. They both wore identical flowing red and white dresses with beaded decorations taking the shapes of flowers and swirls. Not only that, over their faces they both had dark wooden masks, very similar to the one which Inari wore daily. The pair were clearly not witch doctors but instead they must have been a symbol of protection, as followed by the Blood-and-White tribe. The brightly-painted, smiling masks were said to repel bad spirits which attempted to harm the young women.

  The only difference Zaki could see between the pair was the fact that one of them was slightly more rounded than the other and her hair was scattered compared to the smaller of the two. The thinner sister had long, thick, caramel hair which brushed at her waist. There was something creepy about the two standing behind their father, masks grinning wide.

  Jasari soon came down the hill, clapping his hands together with his fakery beaming from him. He and the guest Chief walked up the hill while the two sisters were ordered to stay with Inari. The warriors split in half, ten going with Pazade and the rest following the witch doctor.

  The people soon scattered back to their huts, still whispering about the arrivals and some even complaining about having to be on their best behaviour, as expected by the tribe, at short notice. Zaki pushed through the crowds to follow Inari but the warriors were too tight around him for Zaki to even get a chance to gesture.

  The light and heat made him sway, and he reached out to a wall and took a breath. There was no way he was getting to the doctor now. Recovering, he turned around and made his way back to the fishing shacks. The guards should be too busy making sure everyone was behaving to care about him getting a few more hours’ rest.

  Zaki felt sick to the core as he fell into the comfort of the bundles of straw. Closing his eyes, he tried not think about Masika, nor what was going to happen in the future.

  When he woke after a couple of hours’ sleep, the nausea in the pit of his stomach was mixed with hunger pangs. He knew he had to eat something but had no energy to hunt even a critter.

  Rubbing his eyes, he slid from the bed and went to pick up the makeshift fishing rod by the side when he heard the sound of a gentle humming outside the door. Stopping in his tracks, he listened to the music as it traced a relaxing tune. The shadows beneath the door showed the figure strolling past his shack, a female figure at that.

  Zaki opened the door. Confusion hit him at the sight he saw. There by the side of glimmering pool, stood the willow-figured Chieftain’s daughter. Her arm was outstretched, holding a mixed bundle of feathers and seeds, while she walked along the water’s edge, still humming. Zaki couldn’t take his eyes off her out of sheer curiosity.

  The girl glanced over her shoulder, her bright green eyes behind the mask meeting with his for a second. Zaki narrowed his eyes and looked around for guards. There was absolutely no one nearby. Hesitating, he took a couple of silent steps forward and followed her along the bank.

  She eventually stopped and threw the mix into the air. Most of it just dropped back onto the clear, shining surface of the waters, but some of the feathers took flight in the breeze and drifted majestically away until they were out of sight.

  “I must warn you, if you kill me you would be butchered a thousand times over,” the young woman said in a peculiar, smoky voice.

  Zaki opened his mouth to speak but found that his breath caught on his words. He raised a hand and cleared his throat before attempting again. “I don’t want to kill you. I was wondering what you are doing here with no guards around.”

  “I asked the Goddesses Moon and Earth for aid. As for no warriors… well, they make me uncomfortable, and I do the same to them.” The female spun around and linked her fingers together and took a couple of steps forward. “What is your name?”

  Zaki brought his hand to the back of his head. Already, he could feel the shame burning within. “I haven’t earned one. I am just known as Brother.”

  The mask tilted to the side while the bright eyes widened. “I see. I have met children in this tribe who have earnt their right to a name, but you, a grown male does not have one?”

  “Yes. Now I live with the shame. So what is your name, Mascarde Dolta?” Zaki quickly asked, attempting to change the subject.

  “Mmph.” The young woman brought a heavily-bangled wrist up to his chest and trailed three of her fingers across with a light scratch. “You don’t have a name for me, I don’t have a name for you.”

  Zaki glanced down. The bangles were all different colours, almost every one of the rainbow. This close, her figure appeared more desirable then he had first seen in the crowd. The dress was clearly swamping her and covering everything to stop males from looking at her, but with her this close he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander. His mouth went dry and his heart thumped as her fingertips grazed across his skin. “What… what are you doing?”

  A small sound, almost like a light chuckle came from behind the mask. “I’m trying to see what is wrong with you to not have a name.”

  “There is nothing wrong with me. I just counted the nights wrong,” Zaki stammered and tried to look either side, away from her. He had an unusual urge to pull her mask off. He wanted to see what was behind the wood but knew he couldn’t.

  “So you are stupid?”

  “No. I was knocked out cold longer then I- what the fuck are you doing?!”

  The masked young woman had swooped her fingers down his chest and grabbed his crotch for a quick second before he threw her hand away and stepped ba
ck, glaring at her. She couldn’t stop her quiet giggling behind the mask and he could sense the smile in his direction.

  “Clearly that works. So you must just be stupid.”

  “I don’t give a fuck who you are, you can’t just go grabbing cocks.” Zaki tried to keep his tone down in case there were any of the warriors lurking nearby. It wouldn’t have surprised him at this point if Jasari had sent her to test him and give him a death sentence. “I could have been fucking killed for you doing that!”

  “Oh, relax. If someone had seen, I would have said I wanted you for a slave to breed with the ones we have.”

  “I’m no one’s slave.”

  “From the feel of you, if I wanted you to be my slave, you would be,” the smoky voice taunted.

  Zaki glared back at her in anger once more. He was attempting to rearrange himself. The rags he had on left little to the imagination and he was far too paranoid about someone walking around the corner. “Like I said, I was knocked out for longer than I first thought. That is the only reason I don’t have a name.”

  “Alright then. I believe you.” The girl sighed and slumped to the ground. “So you are a fisherman?”

  Zaki shrugged and sat beside her. “I don’t know what I am now. Trained for years to become one of those warriors but I can’t do that. I guess for now, yes, I am a fisherman.”

  “Could that change over time?”

  “If I was someone else, yes. Let’s just say Jasari isn’t my biggest supporter.”

  The girl picked up a stick and poked at the muddy bank. Zaki tried to catch a quick glimpse of her face from the side of the mask but all he could see was a dark shadow over her features. “Judging from your cuts and bruises, you are clearly not scared of being hurt. Maybe your Chief will see things differently and you just need the opportunity to prove yourself.” She turned and he could see the smile in her eyes.