The Exile's Redemption (The Heart of a Tyrant Book 1)
Page 15
'I will not see Paten unavenged,' said Jonbu. 'If you won't hand him over willingly then I'll have no choice but to take him myself.'
'So much for peace,' Norox whispered in Awon's ear.
'Really wanna do that?' said Red, slowly moving his arms to his sides.
'No. Hand him over and I won't have to,' said Jonbu, firmly.
'That ain't happenin'.'
'Here we are then.'
'Finally,' cried Awon, pulling the cleaver out from under his shirt.
Tombu looked suddenly panicked. Awon charged, leaping over the fire at him. Tombu yelped, dropping his club as he staggered back.
Awon landed and went to stab him, but a fist to the face knocked him aside. He lashed out with the cleaver at his attacker, the cleaver cutting into flesh, then he punched the guy hard in the face with his free hand before his attacker could recover. Awon headbutted him in the nose, then shoved him aside, searching around for Tombu.
Battle cries filled the tunnel. Men clashed, kicking, swinging, punching, biting, throwing, stabbing, falling. He spotted Tombu. The club was back in the lad's hand and he held it ready, eyes fixed on Awon, but the fight had clearly left him. Awon didn't care. It was time to get even.
Red roared and Awon dared a glance to his right. Red and Jonbu were locked in a knife fight, slicing one another's coats apart, but failing to cause an actual wound.
Tombu cried out and swung at Awon's head. Awon ducked under it then lashed out, cutting into the lad's thigh. Tombu squealed, but remained on his feet and swung again. This time the club thudded into his shoulder. He grunted, then roared like Red, allowing the pain to spur him on. Or at least he imagined that it'd sounded like Red's.
He flicked the cleaver out at Tombu's chest, but the lad managed to catch it with his club, the blade embedding into the wood. He tried to yank it free but Tombu elbowed him in the face, knocking him back. Blood filled his mouth, the sudden pain jolting his senses, and his rage grew. He screamed, released his hold on the cleaver, and dived at Tombu, toppling him over, then rained punch after punch down on his face, relishing the feel of his fist pounding on flesh. It was like when he practised his punching on the carcasses hanging in the meat locker of his shop, only better. He could actually cause this prick harm.
Someone grabbed the back of his shirt and heaved him off Tombu. He twisted around and threw at punch up at his new assailant. His fist disappeared into a scruffy beard before hitting the guy's jaw. A shard of tooth broke off and flicked into Awon's eye. The guy dropped him and covered his mouth with his hands, whimpering like a girl. Awon rubbed his eye, then sprang back up and booted the bearded guy in the crotch as hard as he could. The guy groaned and fell to his knees, removing a hand from his face to clutch his crotch.
Awon frantically searched for Tombu, murder on his mind.
Tombu was on his feet, running away down the tunnel. All the Drowners were.
'Hey,' yelled Awon, clenching his fists tight. He made to give chase.
'FREEZE.'
The metallic clink of Konar boots filled the tunnel.
Awon glanced back. Konar were entering the tunnel from the side Awon and the others had entered by, the Konar's bronze armour gleaming in the firelight. They spread out in a line across the tunnel, rifles aimed at the stunned members of the Cutter gang.
'Throw down your weapons,' yelled one of the Konar.
'Do as he says lads,' shouted Red, throwing down his knives.
'I obey no man,' someone cried.
It was Goten. The guy's skin glistened with sweat. He threw a long, metal club from one hand to the other.
'Don't be stupid, lad,' shouted Red.
Goten screamed like a man possessed and charged the Konar.
The muzzles of two Konar's rifles illuminated with bright yellow light, and an almighty wail split the air, hurting Awon's ears. A beam of brilliant light shot out of each rifle and burst through Goten's torso. One bullet beam shot out right past Awon, barely missing him, the heat of it hotter than fire. Both beams struck the tunnel walls, exploding in a flash.
Goten fell back, his club clattering to the floor just before he did.
'Drop your weapons now,' yelled a Konar, his voice barely audible through the ringing of Awon's ears.
Everyone did as he ordered. Everyone except Awon that is.
'That was brilliant,' said Awon through ringing ears, staring at the Konar's rifles, all feelings of committing murder replaced with fascination. He'd never seen a rifle fired before. It was amazing. Except the ringing in his ears from the awful wailing sound.
The Konar advanced, rifles aimed at them, ready to shoot, one Konar aiming directly at Awon.
'In the name of the Saban you are under arrest,' bellowed another Konar.
'Fucking Konar. It's a set up,' mumbled Batterox behind Awon. He snorted. 'Those fucking Drowner bastards set this up.'
'Aye, looks like it,' said Red. 'Don't recognise these ones. Must be from Nuchai. Jonbu must've paid them.'
'On your knees,' commanded the Konar in the centre, a mean looking guy who looked a little like a shaven burma..
All of them except Awon dropped to their knees.
'Ain't gettin' on my knees fer no one. Fuckin' Konar,' said Awon.
The Konar aiming his rifle at him marched over to him, lowering the muzzle to Awon's chest. Awon gazed down the rifle's barrel, trying to see what was inside.
'On your knees,' said the Konar. He had a tiny nose and a small chin that made his bronze helm look really big on his head.
'Make me, jenni,' said Awon.
The Konar lunged forward and slammed the butt of his rifle into Awon's face. Awon was unconscious before he even hit the ground.
Chapter Thirteen
'You are nothing,' said Holi.
Kanisha struggled up the muddy rise, the large pack of stones tied to her back threatening to break her. She slipped, but stopped herself falling, her hands sinking into the hot, sloppy, foul smelling mud, splattering her tight black garb.
Holi observed her from above with his grey eyes, but made no move to help her. Instead he remained where he was, his arms folded behind his bare, lean, muscled torso. Neither his body or black trousers had a speckle of mud on them.
Sweat pumped from Kanisha's every pore. The jungle's dense humidity was suffocating, burning her lungs. More than anything she wanted to wipe her face, but more sweat would only replace it. She wheezed, pushing herself up the rise one careful step at a time, concentrating hard on the wet ground, searching for secure patches of mud. The din of the jungle had given her an ever worsening headache, making her plight all the harder.
'You are nothing,' Holi repeated, still making no move to aid her.
'I am not NOTHING,' cried Kanisha, taking another difficult step.
'If you wish to become what you must be, you must first become nothing.'
I do not wish to become what I must be, you barbaric, remorseless, cold-blooded creature. I wish to go home.
She slipped and her right knee sank into the mud, the weight of her pack pressing her down. She tried to rise, but lacked the strength.
Holi hopped down the muddy path as if he were weightless. He moved freely and gracefully, not one drop of mud flicked up from under his feet. 'You are nothing,' he said, stopping several paces up from her.
'Help me up,' she snapped, struggling to rise.
Again he made no move to help her.
'Why must you do this to me?' snarled Kanisha. 'What is the purpose of this?'
'Do not be a child,' he said with a frown.
She groaned and heaved herself up, her feet sinking deeper into the mud. The weight of her pack threatened to pull her back down, but she righted herself by leaning forward. She held out her hand. 'I need water.'
'You may drink when we reach the summit,' said Holi.
'That is too far. I need water urgently.'
Holi crouched down, leaning in close to her face. 'How would you act in a situation in which you we
re fleeing your enemies? Carrying information vital to the Emperor and the Ragi? Perhaps a wounded comrade too? You stop, you die. What would you do? Cry about your need for water? Would you endeavour to continue on? Serve your Emperor?'
'I am a woman. Not a soldier.'
'You are nothing.'
She wanted to spit in his face, but she needed to retain all the moisture she could. A bead of salty sweat ran over the edge of her mouth.
'If you are to hide in plain sight, nothing is what you must become,' said Holi. His bare, hairless chest glistened with sweat. For a second she thought she could see her reflection there.
I am not nothing. I will never be nothing.
She took one difficult, slippery step, then another, her feet repeatedly sinking into the mud. Sweat stung her eyes, but she dared not wipe them.
Holi hopped up the rise, staying two steps in front of her at all times.
Every step she took released acrid smells from the squelching mud. One step, then another.
'You are nothing,' he called back to her.
'I am not nothing,' she cried.
The stones in her pack shifted and she was yanked backwards, legs lifting out of the mud. She flailed her arms trying to grab hold of something, a branch, a vine, anything.
'Help me,' she screamed.
Holi didn't move.
The jungle's canopy rushed across her vision as she plummeted. The back of her neck slapped the mud, then she flipped head over tail, tumbling. She screamed, desperately trying to grab hold of anything she could. The world span around her, green leaves, blue sky, dark brown mud, and the receding image of Holi stood watching as she fell.
'You are nothing.'
Koma rested against the wall behind the smaller of the two white, wooden backless benches on the Saban's Dais. The Saban's Seat was the larger, heavily cushioned one, the smaller one reserved for members of the Saban's family. Today it would be the Monster's seat.
The Council Hall was wide and open. Sunlight shone down from the glass dome above, illuminating the smooth white stone floor. On each of the walls hung paintings of the gods. Qwobed, God of Water was the leftmost one. The god's body was a giant mound of wet mud shaped into the rough form of a four legged animal. Its body dripped with water, and it left large puddles instead of footprints.
The next one along was Rudai, God of Fire. The god was like molten magma shaped into the rough form of a giant, legless man. Flames flared from cracks all over its blackened body. The god's mouth and eyes were pure fire.
Next along was Nogram, God of the Wind. Its long, thin, scaled body was coiled up several times along its length. Its many wings were spread wide, surfing on the wind it created, or so Koma assumed, although why a god that controlled the wind would need to glide on it she didn't know.
The next painting was of Nuchai, God of Earth. Its slender, humanoid form was covered in branches, leaves, flowers, bark, and soil. Its large, cold face had neither a nose or a mouth, and its eyes were just holes in its head.
The last painting was of Salchai, God of Light. The top half of its luminous white form was like a man's, but the lower half was composed of many tentacles, each tentacle's tip glowing even brighter. Many small orbs floated around its head.
Such strange gods. How drunk were the Koku when they imagined these? If they must invent deities the least they could is make them vaguely realistic. They're too ridiculous to ever exist. I suppose they could say the same of the Ragi, though one only needs to see a dragon to know that they are real.
Many brown, polished wooden seats fanned out before the Saban's Dias in a semi-circle. The centre-most seat at the front was reserved for the Qotan, and was the only other one that was cushioned. The rest of the seats were for the Tekans of each major city of Predemagda.
Wooden benches curved around behind them in rows, receding all the way back to the outer walls. The benches were where spectators sat to observe, if it was an open meeting. The Council of Sab could only be viewed by Nobans, Socraes from the army, Konar officers of varying ranks, Koku, or wealthy merchants of influence, unless delicate matters of state were to be discussed then only Tekans and high ranking Socraes could attend. People from the lower tiers of society weren't even allowed up to the Saban's Tier except with permission from the Saban or Qotan. Servants were excluded from these rules, of course, which only strengthened Koma's opinion that servants were little better than slaves.
Several Tekans sat waiting patiently in their seats. All were dressed in robes of state, white fabric with a red stripe running down from the left shoulder to the right hip, the robe fastened together with a gold threaded belt. Koma didn't recognise any of these Tekans. They must be from the north. Northerners are always early, so I believe. The fact they were all sat together on the left side of the hall was another indicator to her that they were from the same vicinity.
People of different backgrounds sat on the spectators benches, talking quietly amongst themselves. She spotted two yegeyor at the very back, they stood out in a hall predominantly populated by humans. The only other species in the room was one creature covered head to toe in light brown fur, and wore an orange garb that she didn't recognise. Must be a merchant from Kopasi, or somewhere else in the north reaches of the continent. Somewhere colder. The creature had two arms but four hands, their forearms split in two at the ends. Why would they ever need four hands?
More people filed into the room from the main doors, taking their seats. Two more Tekans arrived. One of them she recognised as Mopubu, Tekan of Padastas, from the East..
Koma huffed and leaned against the wall. Why do I have to arrive early and wait up here on my own like some Saban's Guard? Why don't Lerama's servants have to? Did that moronic bitch get it wrong? Am I here needlessly? She rubbed her tired eyes. Two nights with little sleep. I might have to go to the market and get something to help me. She'd drank some ginger tea when she'd woken, but its effects were wearing off, and she was becoming groggy. Need to be alert. This is it. The chance to learn something the Shadows will appreciate.
Penama and Elema, two of Lerama's handmaiden's, walked into the hall, giggling to one another as they made their way to the dais. They barely acknowledged Koma as they ascended.
More and more people filed into the hall until it was near capacity. A yegeyor wearing the silver circlet of a Tekan entered, to Koma's surprise. I didn't know a yegeyor could be a Tekan. I've never even heard of a yegeyor Noban. I suppose there must be some, somewhere. Probably in the north.
The Qotan and Shonmu were the last to walk in, the two men talking quietly amongst themselves as they headed to their seats. The Qotan reluctantly shook Shonmu's hand before heading to his seat. The Qotan's state robe was as equally faded as his dress robe, its colours drab in the brightly lit room.
'This is your first Council meeting, isn't it?'
Elema came up beside Koma, an amused look on her face. Panama glanced at Koma over Elema's shoulder, sniggering. Those grey eyes of hers reminded her of Holi's. She wanted nothing more than to stab them out with her hairpin.
'Yes,' Koma replied.
'Hope you're prepared to listen to a bunch of boring men prattle on about boring things,' said Elema. Both she and Panama giggled.
'Wish I'd thought of pretending to be sick like Ilinima,' said Penama. 'Could have stayed in bed all day.'
It's only boring if you're a simpleton. Oh wait. She smiled to herself. 'It's better than bathing the Sabu,' she said.
The two women giggled even more at that.
'I'm sure it is,' said Elema.
The two women turned their back to her, giggling about some other stupid thing, Koma had no doubt.
Four Saban's Guards marched into the hall, the clinking of their armour drowning out all other noise. Their rifles rested against their shoulders as they marched to the foot of the Saban's Dais. They spun around on their heels and planted the butt of their rifles onto the floor, standing to attention.
The hall fell silent.
The Monster followed behind her mother, a sullen look on her face, like she was being led to her execution, a thought that greatly pleased Koma. Two more Saban's Guard entered behind the Monster.
Lerama and the Socrae-al stopped. He stroked her arm for a second, flashed her a gleaming grin, then left her, taking a seat on the bench behind the Qotan.
Lerama put her arm around the Monster and led her up onto the dais, the Monster uncomfortable under her touch. The two Saban's Guards joined the other four at the foot of the dais, facing the Council and standing to attention. The Monster didn't even look at Koma as she took her seat. Lerama took her seat and everyone in the hall rose.
The Qotan moved to the centre of the room. 'We stand to order the first meeting of the Council of Sab, chaired by our new Saban, Lerama of the Damna family.'
'Thank you. Please, be seated,' said Lerama.
Everyone but the Qotan sat back down.
'Thank you for attending on such short notice,' said Lerama. 'It is a difficult time for us all, and a period of transition, as we mourn the loss of my beloved husband. He is an irreplaceable presence on this Council. My only hope is to serve it as well as he did. Thank you to those that managed to make the journey to attend his funeral. For those who were unable to make it, due to distance, I hope you'll join me later at the palace for a smaller ceremony, so you may pay your respects.
'I know it is earlier in the calendar than usual to be holding a Council, but I wish to make the transition of government as smooth as possible. Since you were all journeying to the city anyway, I thought it prudent to do so. Qotan, you have the floor.'
The Qotan straightened up, clasping his hands together behind his back.'Thank you, Saban.' He turned to face the room. 'Our first order of business is to address the disturbing news of the sudden invasion of Farhaven by the Raginar Empire, which I am sure you have all heard of by now.'