The Gilded Ones

by Namina Forna

  My hands are clenched so tightly now, the skin feels like it’s about to split. Can’t massacre your comrades, can’t massacre your comrades…Around me, other men nod their agreement, then begin to add their own thoughts.

  “Demons,” one man calls.

  “Abominations,” another adds.

  “Whores!”

  And with that, I can remain silent no longer.

  “Whores?” I scoff, looking at Baxo and his friends. “Hardly. We’re soldiers, just like you. Many of us are going to die on the battlefield, same as you.”

  “As you should,” Baxo jeers. “Women don’t belong here—especially not your lot—and the more of you that die, the sooner you’ll know it.”

  I unsheathe my atika, advancing closer, a growling Ixa at my side. A smile slices my lips when Baxo’s face turns even paler at my approach. “See, that’s the amusing thing,” I say. “Death is a common thing for our kind, which is why we welcome it, consider it an old friend.” I point my atika at him. “Do you welcome death, Bax—”

  A warm, calloused hand traps my shoulder. “Deka.”

  I turn to find Keita behind me, Li, Kweku, and Acalan at his side. They’ve all walked over from their end of the lake.

  He smiles at me. “Trust me?” he asks.

  I roll my eyes, nod, then move to the side as he approaches Baxo, who takes a step back, alarmed. “Lord Keita,” the older man whispers.

  “You have me at a disadvantage,” Keita says. “I don’t know your name. I do know you should be grateful for the alakis’ presence. Deka’s especially. She’s one of the most effective deathshriek killers there is, prized by the emperor himself, which is why she was given her mount, the first of its kind—personally developed by the Lady of the Equus.” He thoughtfully taps his lips. “Are you saying that the emperor is wrong?”

  “Wait, I don’t think that’s what he’s saying at all,” Kweku muses, entering the conversation. “I think he’s saying both the emperor and the priests are wrong, because they’re the ones who decreed that the alaki come with us.”

  “Also the Lady of the Equus,” Li adds. “He’s insulting her hard work. She personally bred Ixa, you know….”

  Baxo’s eyes are as wide as saucers now, and he turns from one to the other. “No, no, you’re mistaken. I wasn’t saying any of those things at all.”

  “Strange.” Keita frowns. “I could have sworn you were. All of you, that is. In fact, I could have sworn that’s why you all gathered here and made sure the alaki gathered there.” He points to the muddy side of the lake.

  “No, no, that’s not it at all!” Baxo shakes his head quickly. “We were just leaving, weren’t we?”

  The other men nod.

  “C’mon, then,” Baxo urges.

  He and the other men scurry away.

  Once they’re gone, Keita smiles at me. “I know you had it handled, but you’re always saving me, Deka. I thought I’d return the favor at least once, even though you’d already done most of the work yourself.”

  “So you’re the hero,” I tease, amused despite myself.

  “No, you’re the hero,” he corrects. “But every once in a while, the horned lizard shows his stripes.” As I grin at this reminder of our first truly friendly conversation, he motions his head. “Come on, the rest of us are gathering water over there.”

  He points to the glistening portion of the lake, where the alaki are now gathering, their uruni by their sides. They are partners, after all. And Keita and I…Well, Keita and I are something else altogether. Something that almost feels like…sweethearts.

  “This hateful desert,” Britta groans, squinting against the sun.

  It’s a bright morning in the desert, and we’re riding toward the small range of hills in the distance, the threshold to the N’Oyo Mountains. From there, the primal nesting grounds are a week and a half away. Beside me, Keita sits rigidly on his horse, jaw clenched. The N’Oyo Mountains border Gar Fatu, his home. In fact, his summer house—the very same house where his family was massacred—is in their foothills, which is why he becomes tenser with every step. I wish I could embrace him to make him feel better, but I can’t do so here, where everyone will see. Instead, I watch Britta as she grumbles about the weather.

  “If it’s not the sun, it’s the sand, all flying everywhere an’ getting all in me delicate bits.”

  A smile tugs at the side of my mouth. “Your delicate bits, you say…However will you manage to survive?” I tease.

  “I won’t for much longer if this sand goes any deeper,” Britta mutters.

  “Oh please,” Adwapa humphs, “you’re not the only girl who has delicate bits.”

  “And ye would know that from experience, wouldn’t ye?” Britta laughs, her eyebrows waggling.

  We all know Adwapa is forever sleeping in Mehrut’s bed. It shocked me at first, the fact that two women would have such inclinations, but affection is affection. If there’s one thing I’ve learned these past few months, it’s that you must treasure it wherever you can find it. I’m just grateful they found each other in the Warthu Bera, rather than a place like Irfut, where they would have been beaten, then forced into servitude as temple maidens for deviancy.

  “You three are disgusting.” Acalan sniffs, shaking his head, although there’s a twinkle in his eyes. He’s also become much less rigid since entering the Warthu Bera. Constant brushes with death will do that to a person.

  “It’s not our problem you don’t know about delicate bits,” says Asha, grinning at him.

  “That would be because I’m an Oyomo-fearing man,” Acalan sniffs.

  “You mean an Oyomo-fearing virgin.” Belcalis laughs, elbowing him.

  He blushes. “I’m saving myself for marriage,” he mumbles.

  “You hear that, Keita?” It’s Li’s turn to join the conversation, and he turns laughingly to Keita. “Our Acalan is a virgin,” he says, arching an eyebrow.

  Keita shrugs, looking away. “Nothing wrong with being a virgin,” he replies. “I’ve never been with anyone either.”

  The conversation stops, and everyone turns to Keita, shocked, except for Britta and me. Since we are both from small villages, we tend to assume that unmarried people are virgins. It was only after some weeks at the Warthu Bera that I realized city folk like Kweku, or Nibari like Adwapa and Asha, didn’t hold such strict attitudes toward bed matters.

  “Never ever?” Asha gasps, seeming bewildered beyond belief.

  Keita shrugs, shaking his head.

  “How about a kiss?” Kweku gasps. “Surely you’ve kissed.”

  Keita shrugs again.

  “Why not?” Belcalis asks, seeming thoughtful.

  “Never had anyone I wanted to kiss—before, that is.” He looks away, seeming shy.

  Belcalis breaks out in a knowing smile. “And now…?” She glances from Keita to me, and I feel my face heat all the way to the roots of my hair.

  Keita shifts, uncomfortable. “Now is none of your business,” he mumbles. “And honestly, I’m disappointed in you three.”

  “How are we the disappointing ones?” Adwapa sniffs. “You’ve never even felt a girl up before. I have—several times. It’s delightful. Especially now that I get to do so in the privacy of our common bedroom.” She makes a squeezing motion with her fingers, and we all roll our eyes.

  “Go on.” She gestures. “Please, do explain to me how we’re the disappointing ones.”

  “Because you’re alaki.” Keita sighs. “You of all people know what it’s like to not be the way the world expects you to be. Just because I’m a man—”

  “Boy!” Asha coughs under her breath.

  Keita rolls his eyes. “Just because I’m male doesn’t mean I want to be chasing every girl in the vicinity. Perhaps I want my first time to mean something. Perhaps I want to be married, to be
bonded, before I sleep with someone. I thought you’d all understand that.”

  We fall silent again.

  Keita is right, of course. Virginity, no virginity—the choice should be a personal one. I could have never even thought such a thing before, growing up in Irfut, but being in the Warthu Bera has changed me. The Infinite Wisdoms no longer hold as much sway over me as they used to.

  “I’m a virgin too,” I whisper. “Nothing wrong with that.”

  “Same here.” Britta waves.

  “Me too,” adds Lamin, Asha’s uruni, blushing. He’s a very shy boy, despite his massive size. He very rarely speaks.

  “Actually”—Li clears his throat—“me too. But I’ve kissed before—and other things.”

  “You hypocrite!” Acalan gasps. “You made such fun of me.”

  Li shrugs. “You’re an easy target.”

  We all turn to Kweku, but he shrugs as well. “Well, don’t look at me, I grew up in the city.”

  Now it’s Asha’s, Adwapa’s, and Belcalis’s turns.

  Adwapa’s the first to respond, and she does so with a humph. “We all know that ship has sailed for me. Happily too. Countless times across the horizon, as it were—like a ship, docking at every port.”

  “Same here,” Asha says with a shrug.

  When everyone turns to Belcalis, I clear my throat loudly. “How did we even get on this topic anyway?” I ask, trying to distract them. “We should be making plans—survival plans, contingency plans….The deathshrieks are less than ten days away.”

  To my relief, Acalan takes the bait. “The largest number of deathshrieks ever, all of them waiting in the N’Oyo Mountains,” he says with a shiver.

  I glance at Belcalis, trying to see how she’s doing. She catches my gaze, nods gratefully. “My thanks, Deka,” she mouths.

  I turn back to the conversation to see Britta glancing across the group. “Is anyone else frightened?” she asks. “I mean, I’ve gotten used to the raids, but this is different. Just the thought of this has me stomach in knots.”

  “You and your delicate stomach,” Adwapa humphs. “And no, I’m not frightened. When I meet the deathshrieks, I’m gonna force every last one of those bastards to taste infinity.”

  “Ye and what army?” Britta sniffs. “Ye only ever fulfill yer quota, lazybones.”

  And just like that, the conversation becomes heated, everyone enthusiastically discussing how they’re going to handle the deathshrieks when we meet them. My thoughts drift, the same worries taking over. I don’t know what I’ll do when I’m faced with deathshrieks again. After what I’ve seen, what I know, I can’t view them as just mindless monsters anymore. But I’m still not fully sure what to make of them. I try to stifle my concerns, and that’s when I notice something—prickles creeping up my spine, then swarming me in one enormous wave.

  Heartbeats.

  Lots of them.

  I hear the whoosh before I see the shadow hurtling toward us. Then a massive boulder slams into our ranks.

  * * *

  The moments after impact tick by slowly, a macabre but graceful ballet. Bright red and gold blood drains into the sand, severed limbs scatter with abandon. A few of them move, trying to wriggle back to each other.

  Severed alaki body parts fighting off the gilded sleep.

  “…eka!”

  The sound of battle horns comes as if from a distance, as do frantic drumbeats. The commanders are calling to their troops, trying to get them to reassemble. It’s no use, not with all the boulders raining from the sky, their shapes clouded by the sand and dust whirling in the air.

  “…ove, Deka!”

  I’m overwhelmed by my heartbeat, my fear, the tingling. It rushes over my skin, a tidal wave only I can feel. A shifting, formless mass in the distance. Deathshrieks—an entire army, marching our way. There are so many of them….I knew there were, but this…This defies all expectation.

  “Move, Deka!” Keita’s hand grips my shoulder. He’s standing behind me, Britta at his side. “The deathshrieks are throwing boulders at us!”

  Another boulder plows into the advance guard, sending soldiers flying.

  “Death Strikers, to me!” a voice roars. Captain Kelechi, riding at the front of the army.

  Visibility is so poor now, I can barely see past my own nose. Mist is threading the sand, making it nearly impossible to see anything.

  “Death Strikers, to me!” the captain repeats, waving a flag. It cuts through the mist, a barely visible dull red glimmer. “To me!”

  “Hurry, Deka!” Britta commands, urging her horse onward. “Let’s go!”

  I shake away my daze. “Yah!” I say, urging Ixa after her and Keita.

  Together, we race toward Captain Kelechi, who has now moved just behind the advance troops guarding the emperor. When we arrive, Emperor Gezo, White Hands, and two generals are beside him, as are the equus twins.

  “Your Majesty.” We all bow.

  “No time for formalities now, this is a battlefield,” the emperor says. He turns to White Hands. “What is the situation?”

  “They’re shooting at us from the hills there and there.” She points.

  “Big old rocks,” Braima adds, and his twin nods.

  The emperor turns to me. “Can you command them?”

  I shake my head. “Not from this distance, Your Majesty. I’d have to ride over and—”

  A volley of spears hurtles through the mist. Soldiers barely have time to get their shields up before it strikes the advance guard.

  “Protect the emperor!” The call rises up, and a contingent of jatu splinters away from the advance guard and hurriedly covers us with a curtain of shields.

  They do so just in time. Another hail of spears strikes, reaching even farther than the first one did.

  “Oyomo’s breath,” one of the generals gasps, unnerved when a spear bounces off the shields. “They’re throwing spears—fecking spears.”

  “We have to get Deka to them,” Captain Kelechi says.

  “I have the solution to that,” White Hands offers. She hands me a steel cylinder that almost looks like a horn from a toros—a scaly, bull-like creature that lives on the shores of slow-flowing rivers. “Shout into that, and it will amplify your voice.”

  I nod. “Yes, Karmoko.”

  “You have to be closer, however,” White Hands says. “Much closer.” Her eyes look past the shields to the distance, from where yet more spears are hurtling.

  My chest tightens in alarm. Surely the infernal armor cannot withstand that. And if an arrow hits any of my vitals, it’ll trigger an almost-death, forcing me into the gilded sleep for the rest of the battle.

  “So she has to ride out there,” Keita says. He nods. “I’ll protect her.”

  “No, you’ll stay here,” White Hands says, shaking her head. “Deka, Britta, and Belcalis will go. Gazal will command the unit.”

  Gazal, off to White Hands’s side, nods to us. I wonder where Adwapa and Asha are, then I remind myself I have to remain focused.

  “Your task is to ensure that Deka is safe,” White Hands says. “Belcalis, you will signal us when it is done.”

  Belcalis nods.

  “But I’m her uruni,” Keita protests. “Where she goes, I go.”

  White Hands turns to him. “Deka, Belcalis, and Britta are alaki,” she says, “ones I’ve personally trained. They’re much less likely to die out there than you.”

  “But—”

  “You are the lord of Gar Fatu,” Emperor Gezo interrupts, “the last in your line. I will not send you out on such a dangerous errand.”

  Keita bows to the emperor. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  And that’s that. I carefully tuck the metal toros horn White Hands gave me into my pack, then nod at Keita, trying to convey all my feelings in once glance. Hope
, fear…affection. He nods back at me, his eyes reflecting all the same things. I let the sight hearten me as White Hands nods at the hill.

  “Conquer the deathshrieks or bury yourselves there,” she commands.

  Belcalis, Britta, and I bow. “We who are dead salute you.”

  * * *

  It’s strangely cold and quiet as we ride into the mist. The occasional boulder still flies over us, but the rain of spears, thankfully, has ceased. Britta, Belcalis, Gazal, and I concentrate on the hills rising in the distance. The deathshrieks have massed there, and we can dimly see their shapes moving in the eerie darkness.

  “Keep your eyes sharp,” Gazal commands as we thunder onward. “We have to deliver Deka close enough to command them, then we can call to the rest of the army.”

  “Yes, Bloodsister,” Britta, Belcalis, and I reply as one.

  As we ride, Britta turns to me. “Don’t worry, Deka,” she says. “I’m here. If ye fall, I will protect ye.”

  “Same to you,” I reply, but Britta only nods. We both know my life is the more precious one now. I have to get to the deathshrieks for the sake of the army. It’s a disconcerting thought. I can’t imagine a life without Britta, can’t imagine what I would do if she had to lay down hers for mine.

  We continue deeper into the mists, where the hills are looming closer, as is something else—a formless, shifting mass accompanied by a low whistling sound.

  Belcalis’s horse falters. “Is that—”

  “SHIELDS UP!” Gazal roars as spears explode out of the mist.

  I jerk up my shield. Down, Ixa! I command.

  He hunkers into the sand just as the spears hit, one of them ramming Belcalis’s horse backward, killing it instantly.

  “Belcalis!” I shout, horrified.

  “I’m all right!” her muffled voice replies. “My horse fell over me!”

  “Hold tight, I’m coming for you!” I shout.