by Reece Dinn
Two Konar sat watching traffic on top of their burmas, looking ready to burst into action at the first sign of trouble. The big, powerful, brown furred burmas were too fast to outrun, they'd be on him in a second, but he'd always wanted to see how far he could run before they caught him. Even with those armoured Konar on their backs they could probably run across a whole district in a couple of minutes, each of the burma's four legs long and muscular. Still it'd be fun. What would make them chase him? Attack someone? The skinny guy with the weird limp carrying a lamp across the road seemed an easy target. They'd see that for sure.
One of the Konar caught Awon's eye, eyeing him suspiciously. The Konar shifted in his dull bronze armour, moving his rifle to his lap. Awon wanted a rifle badly. He'd tried to steal one once when a Konar had had his back turned, but the guy had turned around just in time and whacked him on the chin with the butt of it. Awon had attempted to punch him, but another Konar had restrained him from behind. His father had not been happy with him when they'd brought him home.
He passed by the Konar, carrying on up the road. Near the crossroads the road was lined with puffy looking flowers with big red and white petals that swayed in the wind, the colour of their petals reflecting on the road. The sack of meat was getting too heavy now to stop to kick them. The sooner he was rid of it the better.
The wall of the Nuchai district came into view just over the tops of the buildings, the pink flowers and the vines that covered it shining bright in the sun. The karrons sat on top of them were like small shadows. The district gate was open but, to Awon's annoyance, there was a crowd of people before it to prevent him from passing by easily.
The crowd surrounded a cart that had turned over on itself, the two trobaams that had been pulling it lying on their sides, unable to get up, or so it seemed. A yegeyor lay moaning on the ground nearby, his or her (Awon could never tell the difference) stone white skin bruised and bloody. The yegeyor's leg looked like it was broken, but no one seemed to be helping. Instead they focused on the man in the torn blue tunic stood next to the cart complaining about the yegeyor, saying that he or she had gotten in his way.
No one seemed to like the yegeyor, and Awon never understood why. Sure they'd been munks, slaves, but they weren't now. They were big and strong and had really sharp bone fins all over their bodies. Awon wished he had bone fins. They'd be great in a fight. Even better than a rifle.
He wondered if this yegeyor was one of the mountain dwelling ones that'd recently taken up residence in the city. As far as he knew they were just the same as regular yegeyors, except they walked around solely on all fours, wore no clothes, and struggled to speak Predemagdan. He didn't care enough to help the guy though and headed on to the district gate, the sack cutting into his shoulder now. His father really needed to buy a cart for him to make these deliveries. At least doing them made him strong. Good for fighting. As he passed through the gate into Nuchai district, another Konar eyed him suspiciously.
'What yer lookin' at?' Awon shouted to him.
The Konar looked away, not hearing him.
Awon mumbled to himself as he walked on by. He hated the Konar. They always spoilt things just as they were getting interesting, or stopped fights before they were finished.
At the crossroads he took a right, heading up to the market. The market was bustling, people moving to and from packed stalls, clogging up the road. Awon shouldered and shoved his way through the mixed throng of people. Human, yegeyor, brebuu, gobetriff, and many other people of different shapes, sizes, and species congregated in the market. The brebuu were the worst, the large, pale orange skinned creatures walked tall and proud, like they owned the place, stepping aside for no one. Shoving them only antagonised the guys, and they'd shove you back twice as hard, their bodies much bigger than a human's, bigger even than a yegeyor's. Awon didn't like them, their long faces, drooping ears, and big, round, dark eyes made him want to beat them bloody. He knew he'd never beat one in a fight, but it didn't stop him wanting to.
He ignored the many goods on offer in the market, preferring to look when he had some money, and wasn't carrying a heavy sack of meat that was now beginning to smell. He'd put a couple of small oku stones in with them to keep them cold, it should have been enough. The sky blue oku stones were so cold just to touch them with bare skin would instantly suck the heat from it.
A small angry animal in a cage caught his interest. It thrashed about, snapping and snarling at anyone who passed by, its big, dark, round eyes full of rage. It had spiked golden fur that gleamed and a long tail that it beat against the metal bars. Awon put his sack down. His pale green tunic was a little bloody were the rope of the sack had dug into his shoulder. He'd change when he got home.
He approached the cage. The creature had its back to him, snarling at the people stooped over the cage beside it. Awon went to grab its tail.
'You. Away you get from there,' snapped the dark skinned merchant from behind his small counter. He rushed over to him, his grey and brown robes swaying side to side as he did. The merchant's face was bearded and dirty, but he smelled of perfume. Clearly foreign.
Awon grabbed the golden animal's tail. It snarled and spun around, but smacked its head on the bars of the cage. The merchant knocked its tail out of Awon's hand.
'Idiot. Have an idea how dangerous that thing you touch is?' the merchant cried.
'No. Is it?' Awon looked back at the animal with fascination.
'It could kill a burma in seconds, Strip the bones off it faster than you say “fuck me”.'
'I want one.'
'Away with you, schubnit. Take your meat too, you antagonizing shit on a stick.'
The golden furred creature was drooling, staring at the sack of meat.
'Schubnit? Speak proper,' said Awon
'Trouble making schubnit. Now go. I'll call them Konar over.'
'Whatever. Got things to deliver anyway.' Awon picked up his sack and continued on, deciding that he may return later to buy the animal if he had enough money.
He left the market and headed up the road, groaning at the sight of the Konar Station in the distance, at the foot of the stairs leading up to the second tier. He lived next to a Konar Station, which meant they were always around. He was sure that they were always waiting to catch him in the act of doing something they thought he shouldn't be doing. It didn't stop him doing as he pleased though.
He took a left off the road at the big tree shaped like two hunched old men bound together, the sight of the large purple fruit hanging from it meant the Cart Stop Tavern was close by. He headed down the small cobblestone street, mumbling to himself as he scuffed his ankle on a stone. The tavern's sign at the far end swung in the light wind. A pretty girl in a long pink dress stood chatting to an older woman outside a house before it, the girl's dress blowing gently in the wind. Awon whistled to her as he passed by. The girl glanced at him, rolled her eyes, then turned away.
'Cock sucker,' he called back to her. He didn't see her reaction.
Awon booted open the door to the Cart Stop Tavern and stumbled inside, the kick throwing him off balance.
'It's about time you got here, lad,' said Wimbu, the tavern keeper, his big belly jiggling as he stepped around from the back of the bar.
Awon threw the sack of meat down, breathing a sigh of relief. 'Yer welcome, yer cunt.' He took a cloth from his trouser pocket and, with it, retrieved the two oku stones he'd placed inside the sack. He wrapped them up tight in the cloth, then put it back in his pocket. He shivered as the cold stones sent a chill through his leg.
Wimbu glanced at Awon's shoulder. 'You okay?' The man went to touch Awon's bloodied tunic, but Awon shoved him away.
'I'm fine,' said Awon. 'Where's the money? Ain't got all day.'
'Need to learn some manners, lad. Was just trying to help. You're nothing like your father. A shame. He's a good man.'
'He's fat, bald, and poor. Now go get my money.'
Wimbu grumbled something then headed back behind t
he bar. He rummaged around under the bar for a moment.
Awon rested on a bar stool, rubbing his sore shoulder. It stung to touch.
'Got lots of customers that have been waiting for this delivery,' said Wimbu, his head still under the bar. There was a loud creaking of wood.
Awon looked around the empty tavern, some of the wooden tables covered in a light film of dust. 'Looks like it,' he said.
A clinking of metal. 'Not right now, of course. My customers come in the afternoon. But I have to prepare my food early, let it marinate.'
'What you doing behind there? Building a fort? Hurry up.'
'Just a second.' More creaking. Something slotted back into place. Wimbu stood up, holding a small brown pouch in his hand.
'That doesn't look big enough,' said Awon. 'It's thirty yorae.'
Wimbu smiled. 'I've something better for your father. He'll appreciate it.' He opened the pouch and offered it to Awon.
Awon snatched it out of his hand and opened it. There was something shiny inside, some kind of metal.
'I got it off a trader from the Broken Kingdoms who bought two barrels of my vintage Irugan wine,' said Wimbu.
'What is it?'
'That's gold, lad.'
'Fuck am I gonna do with this?'
'That's worth more than thirty yorae. I wanted to keep it, but I need all the yorae I have to pay my rent this month. District landlord won't accept gold. Says I got to exchange it at the market, but I don't have time. Your father will understand.'
Awon threw the gold back at Wimbu. ' I ain't taking this shit. Give me real money.'
'Lad. Be reasonable.'
'Pay me in yorae or I'll smash this place up. You as well.'
Wimbu grumbled, shaking his head. 'Little bastard,' he muttered.
'Stronger than you,' snapped Awon.
'Dumber too.' Wimbu ducked back under the bar. There was more creaking of wood, things clinking together.
'You need a better hiding place for yer money,' said Awon, leaning over the bar. Wimbu's body was blocking it but he clearly kept his money underneath the floorboards.
Wimbu pulled out a much larger pouch and produced three ten yorae coins from it, the blood red metal glistening in the dull light of the tavern. Awon snatched them out of the tavern keeper's hand, jangling the coins in his own.
'That's more like it,' he said.
'I'll have to find the time to get to the market now, somehow. Thanks a lot.'
'Stop tryin' ter pay with fake money and we won't 'ave these kinds of problems.' Awon stuffed the money into his other trouser pocket and headed for the door.
Wimbu said something in reply, but Awon was already outside, no longer listening or caring. He decided he'd go back to the market and maybe buy that spiky animal in the cage. It could guard the butcher's shop when he wasn't there.
'You stupid shit,' Awon's father yelled.
Awon heaved the trobaam calf's carcass onto the table. 'What?'
'You took yorae instead of gold? Have you lost your mind?' His father's chubby cheeks were bright red, his forehead creased, small eyes screwed up tight. 'That gold was probably worth twice as much as this.' He shook the yorae coins at Awon. 'I could have traded it with the farmers for twice as much produce. You stupid shit.'
Awon shrugged. 'If yer don't want it I'll take it.' He made to grab the coins, but his father moved them out of his reach before he could.
'Don't be ridiculous. I'm just saying,' said his father.
Awon turned back to the side table covered in butchery tools; knives, cleavers, bone saws, a sharpening stone, and picked up a bone saw. 'It's done. No use whinin' about it.' He rolled the carcass over so the ribs were facing up, then counted down from the top rib to in between the twelfth and thirteenth ribs.
His father dropped his bulk onto the stool next to the table, his blood stained apron draping loosely over his round stomach. He leaned forward to watch closely. 'I don't whine.'
Awon placed the bone saw in between the two ribs and sawed away at the meat, cutting across it horizontally. His father watched closely, waiting for him to make even the slightest mistake. Awon was tempted to deliberately mess up just to annoy him, but he enjoyed the work too much to ruin a perfectly good carcass. There was something about cutting up a dead animal that calmed him. Most people went to the temples to worship the gods to find peace. Awon never saw the point in that, he was quite happy to leave them alone as long as they left him to his own business. Butchery though, breaking a body down into individual pieces, hacking through bone, cutting up flesh, that he saw a point to. It felt natural. He kept sawing until he reached the backbone then stopped for a moment. His father leaned closer, examining the cut. Awon flicked the saw at his father and he fell back with a screech.
'Stupid shit,' his father snapped.
Awon smirked, then began cutting through the carcass's backbone.
His father leaned in close again. 'Steady.'
'I know what I'm doin'. Yer seen me do this a 'undred times,' Awon grumbled.
'Don't exaggerate,' said his father. 'You've got much to learn.'
When Awon was through the bone he carried on sawing until the carcass was in half.
'A good effort,' said his father, shifting his bulk on the small stool.
The floor was covered in blood still from Awon's attempt earlier that morning at butchering a mastapane his father had bought at the market for him to practice on. He'd made all the wrong cuts and blood had gone everywhere, his father hadn't told him that it'd been a fresh kill, killed only the day before. The table and tools had been cleaned up, but Awon had only half heartedly mopped the floor. It was no surprise that his father was in a bad mood. Not that it mattered. He found his father the least intimidating person in the world, just a fat, bald man, with lots of anger, but too soft to do anything about the things that bothered him. If his father ever dared to strike out at him Awon was certain he could knock him out with little effort, regardless of the size difference.
Awon separated the two halves of the carcass, pushing the top half away to the other side of the table so he had more room.
His father scratched his bald pate, his face taking on the expression of a simpleton scratching his arse, like Awon saw a beggar do the other day. Awon sniggered, wiping the bone saw clean with a cloth, then put it back on the side table, and picked up a cleaver. His favourite.
'Flank first,' said his father, still scratching.
'Fuck's sake, I know.' Awon stabbed the carcass in the middle, once, twice.
'Stop it now,' his father snapped.
Awon pulled the cleaver out of the carcass. 'Keep yer mouth shut and let me work.' He sneered, pointing the cleaver at his father. 'No wonder ma left you.'
His father shrunk back a little, his two chins merging with his neck. 'Your mother left me for a man with more money and a bigger dick. Not because of my personality.'
Awon shrugged and wiped the cleaver on his apron. 'I know what I'm doin'. Go eat sumthin'. Been over an hour since yer last ate. Must be hungry by now.'
'I don't eat that much,' said his father, messing with his apron to try and hide his bulk.
'No? If you didn't eat so much yer wouldn't be in so much debt.'
His father stood up. 'Don't talk to me like that, you hear?'
'Or what, fat man?'
His father frowned, but made no move to do anything.
'Thought so.' Awon rolled the carcass over and began to cut off the carcass's flank.
The front door to the shop burst open, the shock startling the pair of them.
'Awon. Awon,' a familiar voice cried.
'We're out back,' Awon shouted.
'Don't be bringing your good for nothing friends back here,' his father snapped.
Awon ignored him, continuing to cut off the flank. Two sets of hurried steps came through the shop. Awon's friend Ten and some girl he didn't recognise rushed into the room. Ten looked flustered, his short blonde hair coated with sweat, white tunic half tor
n, revealing the tanned skin of his small frame. The girl looked even more exhausted than Ten did, her white dress hanging loosely from her even smaller figure. Neither of them had shoes on.
'They're after us,' Ten stammered in between gasps.
'Who?' asked Awon, moving around the table to him.
He pointed at the girl. 'Her boyfriend and his friends.'
'You brought them here?' Awon's father snapped, his chubby cheeks inflaming again.
'Quiet, fat man,' said Awon. 'Where they from?'
'Nograi district.' Ten sank to the floor. The girl rested against the wall, struggling for breath.
'What were you doing in Drowners' territory?' Awon's father towered over the short boy, his huge belly almost resting on his head.
'I was with her,' said Ten, inclining his head towards the girl.
Awon's father stomped his foot. 'You're sleeping with Drowner girls? Have you lost your mind?'
'Look at her. Wouldn't you?' The girl was as short and thin as Ten was, with a face like a doll's, and long blonde hair. Awon couldn't see the appeal.
Shouts outside stopped Awon's father from responding.
'They've found us,' whimpered Ten.
Awon moved around the table, still clutching the cleaver.
'Awon, no.' His father went to grab him but Awon shoved him away.
'I'll deal with this.' Awon said to Ten. 'Stay here.'
He rushed out of the room, ignoring his father's protests as he rounded the shop front's glass counter where they displayed their freshly cut meat, the meat surrounded by small oku stones to keep it cold. He passed through the shop, kicked open the door, and swaggered outside, cleaver held tightly at his side.
Three shouting guys ran down the side street opposite, heading towards Awon's shop. They stopped when they saw him, all three sweaty and out of breath. The one in the middle wiped his forehead with the back of his yellow shirt. He was tall with dark hair, tanned skin, and had a big chin that looked like it'd be great to punch. The guy stepped forward, puffing out his chest in an attempt to make himself look big.
