by T. D. Steitz
The caravan picked up the pace. Soon, the harsh sun was broken up by patches of cool shade. Then, Jacosa spurred her camel toward a welcome sight. Cheers rose behind her as the weary travelers galloped through tall trees surrounding a pool of clear, cool water.
The camels waded in and drank deeply.
Jacosa dropped to her knees and scooped the refreshing water into her parched mouth. She splashed it on her face and neck and whispered a quiet “thank you.”
After the cool water satisfied their thirst and soothed their aching muscles, Jacosa and her companions sat around a crackling fire. The thick trees around them protected them from the cold, evening wind sweeping through the wilderness beyond. Jacosa breathed in the fresh smells of the evening and rested her back against a tree as sunset ignited the sky. She felt the soft ground beneath her, and it began to shake.
Jacosa jumped up as a giant tusker exploded through the trees.
Thin, dark hair covered the tusker’s leathery hide. Four thick tusks jutted from its face on either side of a long trunk. The top tusks curved upward and then back towards each other while the lower ones pointed straight out like spears. The tusker’s trumpeting echoed through the trees as more tuskers appeared behind him. The herd trampled through the oasis and left a giant swathe of splintered and uprooted trees behind them. They passed the water and drove into the grove on the other side of the pool.
The final tusker emerged, and at least twenty men on horses, bearing long spears and swords, galloped after him. A large wagon pulled by four horses followed. The wagon carried two men and a load of massive steel chains. The riders pursued the tusker as it passed the water.
The men in the wagon passed a massive shackle on the end of a thick chain to two riders.
The riders galloped to the tusker, carrying the shackle between them. They clamped it to one of the tusker’s legs and then fell back.
Two other riders repeated the process.
The tusker disappeared into the trees, and all the riders stopped their pursuit.
The men in the wagon dropped a large spike, attached to the chains leading to the tusker. The spike buried itself into the ground and the chains tightened.
The tusker fell with a resounding thud. The ground shook as it struggled to free itself.
The hunters rode after it as its trumpet filled the air. Then, only silence until the hunters returned to the clearing.
As they rode back through the clearing, the hunters noticed Jacosa and the other onlookers.
The Forest Clan soldiers drew swords and stood shoulder to shoulder as the hunters galloped towards them.
The riders surrounded them and pressed in with aimed spears.
“Drop your weapons!” The hunters’ young leader shouted.
The soldiers didn’t.
“It’s alright,” Sakina said. “Do what he says.”
The soldiers slowly laid down their arms.
“Who are you, and why have you come to Tusk lands?” The lead hunter demanded.
Sakina stepped forward. “We need the Tusk Clan’s help. I must speak with Chief Hatha.”
“The Chief does not grant an audience to every wanderer who requests it.”
“I am Sakina; heir to the Yetta. I must speak with the Chief.”
“Sakina?” The hunter said in disbelief. “How can that be? The Key Village was destroyed.” He dismounted and approached Sakina as his men lowered their spears. He searched her face, but she avoided his gaze. “Will you show me your face?” He asked.
Sakina slowly lifted her head.
Her appearance didn’t bother the hunter. He glanced at her scars, but then his gaze found her eyes and he smiled. “Sakina, it is you. You don’t recognize me, do you?”
Sakina took a closer look at the hunter. “Caine?” She laughed as she recalled the children that used to play with her and Jacosa during their visits to the Tusk Clan, and one particularly rowdy boy named Caine. “Caine! I didn’t even recognize you. It’s great to see you!”
“It's good to see you too. We heard about the attack. How did you survive?”
“Jacosa and I fled to the Coastal Village,” Sakina explained. “I was injured in the attack. We stayed there while I recovered, but then we went back. The Key Village is destroyed, but there are still people there living in the rubble. What’s left of the Village has been taken over by a group calling themselves the New Council, and they’re cooperating with Calamity. The Fallen are already there.”
Caine held his soft gaze with Sakina. He pursed his lips and whistled shrilly.
The hunters snapped to attention.
“Move out!” He turned back to Sakina. “Follow us. We’ll take you to Chief Hatha.” Caine mounted his horse.
“Thank you.”
Caine glanced back at Sakina. “It is good to see you again.”
She smiled.
Jacosa, Sakina, and the Forest Clan soldiers followed Caine to the Tusk Clan village. They passed dwellings that rose high in the air with multiple levels and massive stables housing hundreds of whinnying horses. The hunters and Forest Clan soldiers lead their animals to the stables while Sakina, Jacosa, and Amani followed Caine to a large hall in the center of the village.
“Wait here.” He instructed. He walked up a flight of stone steps and disappeared behind two enormous wooden doors.
Caine walked into the Chief’s dim hall and crossed the large room lit by low-burning torches with long strides. He stopped at the foot of a great tusk hide.
Chief Hatha sat at its head.
Caine placed his right hand on his chest and bowed.
The Chief returned the gesture and Caine sat. “How was the hunt?” Chief Hatha asked.
“We brought one down in the oasis,” Caine replied, “and we found a small group of travelers. They’ve requested an audience with you.”
“Send them away.”
“Sakina, of the Key Village, travels with them.”
Hatha stared at Caine. “She’s alive? How can that be?”
“Many survivors are living in the village ruins,” Caine explained. “Sakina needs our help.”
Chief Hatha nodded. “Bring her to me.”
Jacosa, Sakina, and Amani followed Caine into Hatha’s hall.
“So, you are Sakina, the rightful leader of the Southern Villages?” Hatha asked.
Sakina nodded and stepped forward.
“I have not seen Sakina since she was a young girl. How do I know you are who you claim to be?”
Sakina took a deep breath. “The last time I visited this place as a child, you let me ride a new pony. You let me name her. Her coat was brown, but her mane was dark red, so I named her Ruby. You said you would keep her safe for me, and that no one else would ride her until I came back.”
Hatha smiled warmly and rose to his feet. “Sakina, it is good to see you again. You and your friends must be hungry. Come and eat with me. I will hear what you have come to say.”
Chief Hatha led them out of the hall, and into a large room with a long table surrounded by benches. He invited them all to sit. Men and women brought jugs of wine, platters of meat, and boards of exotic cheese and desert fruit. They ate, and for a time, replaced their troubles with memories, stories, and laughter. After they ate their fill, their conversation became serious again.
“What has brought you to the Tusk Clan?” Hatha asked.
Sakina shared a glance with Jacosa and began. “Chief Hatha, the attack on the Key Village has shown us that the southern people cannot continue the way we always have. Our ancestors came to the South to escape Calamity’s reach. The Yettas taught peace at any cost and passed that tradition down to my parents. But they were wrong. Calamity found us anyway. We cannot escape his reach, and he will never stop. He wants to enslave the whole world. There’s nowhere left for us to run, so it’s time to fight.”
Hatha’s eyes surrendered no clues to the thoughts behind them.
“My parents entrusted me to take their place, and I intend t
o. But our people are scattered and afraid. To reunite them, I must go back to the Key Village. The Fallen are already there, and we will need an army to take it back. We are not prepared for this war, but it is here.”
Chief Hatha listened silently.
“This is Amani,” Sakina continued. “She and the soldiers with her have traveled from the Forest Clan. Several of them have already given their lives to unite our peoples. Chief Hatha, will you follow me like you did my parents? Help me take back the Key Village so I can rally our people to fight Calamity beside the Forest Clan.”
Hatha held Sakina’s gaze. “Caine, you are the lead hunter,” he finally said. “If we join this fight, it is your men that will ride to war and their lives that will be lost. This decision is yours.”
Caine began to respond, but Chief Hatha raised his hand.
“Do not make a hasty choice,” he warned. “Bring me your decision tomorrow.”
Caine bowed his head.
“Until then,” Chief Hatha said, “I think you should show our visitors around the village. There is someone that Sakina may like to see again.”
Caine smiled. “Yes, sir.”
Caine, Jacosa, Sakina, and Amani stepped out of the Chief’s hall, and into the bright sun. The village was lively. Wagonloads of supplies were arriving from the oasis.
“Let me show you around,” Caine said as they followed him to a nearby stable.
They entered the stable and were greeted by the whinnying and stamping of proud horses.
Caine brought two horses out to Jacosa and Amani. “This is Sitara.” He said and handed the reins of a sleek, gray horse to Jacosa.
“Hi Sitara,” Jacosa whispered as she stroked Sitara’s mane and considered her bright, calm eyes.
Caine handed Amani the reins of a beautiful, black horse. “This is Flyta.” Then, Caine led Sakina deeper into the stable. “Chief Hatha kept the promise he made when you were a girl.” He said. “She runs with the other horses, but no one else has ridden her.”
Sakina peered over the door of the stall and saw a brown horse with a dark, red mane laying in the hay. “Ruby!”
Ruby stood and trotted over.
“Hey Ruby, do you remember me?” Sakina asked softly.
Ruby huffed and nuzzled her head against Sakina.
Jacosa and Amani were still getting acquainted with their horses when Sakina and Ruby burst from the stables and galloped away. Jacosa and Amani mounted Sitara and Flyta and followed.
Caine showed them all the wonders of the Tusk Clan.
Jacosa slowed beside a large field and watched a group of fathers teach their children to ride with proud grins on their faces. Their mothers rode beside them and cheered them on as they galloped in wide circles. Jacosa wished the beautiful scene could remain. But darkness loomed on the borders of this sunny village, and though they did not realize it, these children were learning to ride to war.
The four riders sat on the crest of a hill and watched the sun descend.
Caine sat on his horse and stared thoughtfully at the horizon.
Sakina clicked her tongue and coaxed Ruby alongside him. “What are you thinking about?”
Caine sighed. “Sakina, this place is my home. It is a place of peace and prosperity. War is not our way.”
“I know, but we can change. The Forest Clan will teach us.”
“No Sakina, they won't,” Caine replied. “I’ve made my decision. The Tusk Clan is not going to fight.”
Chapter Ten
Battle in the Shadow Lands
Alistair’s clouded eyes snapped open and a sickly gasp filled his lungs with acrid fumes. His vision was shrouded by dense fog. The gas surrounding him had taken him to the brink of death, and then roused him. His head snapped back and forth, and his blurry eyesight slowly responded to his movements. He rose to his feet and clutched his sides as the smoke spread through his lungs, and to the rest of his body. Deep, penetrating terror filled his mind. His thoughts and decisions were no longer his. He was a host to fear and pain. Alistair staggered forward, trying to clarify his surroundings. He remembered vague figures around him before the fumes overtook him. He searched for them again and found himself surrounded. The indistinct forms were emphasized now. Not illuminated, but a deeper blackness than the surrounding shadows.
Alistair felt drawn to the dark forms. The longer he looked at them, the stronger the fear inside him became. He was overwhelmed by the understanding that they were his enemies. They were obstacles that he needed to remove. Fear guided him forward and aimed him. Alistair glanced down. Through the swirling fog, he could see his sword in his hand, but could not feel his grip around it. He charged forward but couldn’t feel his feet push off the ground. He was caught in a current but had no desire to fight for control. The fear produced by the gas was beginning to feel familiar. It was a driving force that coursed through him like adrenaline. Alistair embraced this fear that was not so different from what he had lived with for years. It commanded him to quench his thirst for war, so he happily gave himself to its leading.
Alistair reached his first enemy. His arm raised his sword and his feet kicked black dust into the air as they propelled him forward. Alistair drove his sword into the dark figure, and a smile spread across his face. He released any resistance to the fumes’ influence and hewed through every ethereal form that stood against him. He was unstoppable.
Wybert stumbled frantically through the smoke. He was reading alone when the trapdoors opened. He had tried to warn the soldiers, but the fumes descended too fast. He had no idea how many people made it out. Fear coursed through him just like Alistair, but it had a different effect. The fumes fueled Wybert’s desire to save his people. Every time he found a figure, he brought them to clean air.
The gas left some people frozen in terror. Others trampled each other in a desperate, blind attempt to escape. Some turned on each other as fear dove them mad.
Wybert led those that would follow out of the smoke. The rest he dragged out even as they fought him.
The gas separated Ahian, Anujah, and Serilda when it surrounded them.
Serilda snapped into action. She was a warrior at heart, and she responded accordingly. When the terror took hold, it made her see everyone around her as a threat and she attacked.
When the fumes took control of Ahian, he froze. They dulled his mind, and for someone of intellect and knowledge, this was the worst kind of torture. His survival instincts took over, and he fled blindly.
Anujah was the most fortunate of the three. She was on the outskirts of the gas’ reach when it came, and because of Wybert’s cries of warning, she was able to escape before the swirling fume pillars descended. She climbed the twisted remnants of a tree and watched the chaos below. She found Wybert pulling people from the fumes and used her vantage to help him find more. Soon dozens of people were gathered at the base of Anujah’s tree. They were terrified and gasping for air, but they were alive, and as the fog cleared from their eyes, they began to think clearly again.
Alistair continued to fight. He had craved it for so long. He was powerful and deadly. He hardly had any opposition. The dark forms became harder to find, but he wasn’t satisfied yet. He sought them out and ended them even as they fled.
Then, one black figure rushed towards him. He whipped his shield off his back and faced it. The figure running towards him wielded two long daggers. Alistair staggered backward as he warded off the relentless attack. “Finally,” he thought, “an enemy worth my time.” Alistair braced his feet against the ground and pushed forward.
Anujah stared in horror at Alistair and Serilda, locked in a ferocious battle. “Wybert!” She shouted. “It’s Alistair and Serilda! They’re trying to kill each other!”
Wybert sprinted towards the fight.
Alistair fought hard. His enemy defended his attack for a few moments before he made his move. The dark form lunged at him with both daggers. Alistair raised his shield and the blades split the wood inches from his face. H
e twisted around and wrenched the daggers from the figure’s grasp. Alistair paused to savor the moment his enemy realized its defeat. Then he grinned and buried his sword in its shadowy torso.
Before he could enjoy his victory, Alistair was pummeled from behind. He hit the ground face-first. Whatever had attacked him lifted him to his knees and was dragging him away. Alistair spun and brought his shield up hard in his attacker’s face. He rolled away and stood to face the massive, dark form looming over him. This enemy was bigger than the others, but that didn’t hinder Alistair’s resolve. The great figure warded off his attacks with a huge ax but didn’t fight back. Alistair somersaulted past the giant shadow, swept its knees out from under it, and stood with his blade against its neck. Alistair caught his breath slowly and raised his sword through the thick fog for the final blow. But he was denied his kill.
Pain shot up Alistair’s arm as an arrow impaled his hand and forced him to drop his sword. He raised his shield over his enemy’s head, but the giant figure caught it and yanked it off his arm. Alistair clinched his good hand into a fist and slammed it into his enemy’s face. He cocked his arm again, but the shadow caught his fist with a massive hand. The shadow pulled Alistair to the ground and put him in a tight headlock. Alistair fought to free himself, but his foe would not let go. He struggled like a madman until the thick, dark fog began to dissipate.
The air around him cleared, and the wispy fumes receded slowly from Alistair’s sight. The figure holding him let go and Alistair collapsed to the ground. Puffs of black gas floated from his throat as he coughed and gasped in clean air again. With each breath, his mind cleared. He remembered the attacker behind him and spun around, but instead of the dark form he expected, Alistair faced a silhouette he recognized.
The wind blew through Wybert’s hair and tears ran down his chiseled face.
Alistair stared into his bright, piercing eyes and got the familiar feeling that Wybert saw through all the anger and pain in his heart, to the fearless child running through green pastures. He hated the feeling.
