Chapter 39 - Cowards words!

Myself, Mune, Jandak and Kril walked back to the camp while the rest of our group slumped on the back of the chariots for the final leg of the journey home. I got the feeling I would have to buy a saddle and stirrup set from the shop in order to explain the concept properly but all of them were deeply intrigued by the idea.

“So you can land a solid blow with a spear and shoot arrows while retaining control of the horse?” Mune said in wonder. “That would change everything!”

“You need more Souls. The winter cull starts soon and I’ll arrange it so that you’ll take over for my herd but I’m going to bully Hatrikhan into letting you deal with his family's yearlings as well,” Kril muttered as he walked alongside us.

“We will be disgraced,” complained Jandak. “A laughing stock! We lost the richest bounty of ivory we’ve had for generations!”

“Nonsense. I’ve already figured out a way to replace our losses. Never underestimate a Dreamer!” cackled Kril happily. Jandak gave him the side eye but chose not to bother arguing. His mood didn’t change and he continued to trudge along with an aura of gloom hanging over him.

“You’ll see Haylin soon, bloke! Chin up!” I said.

“I’ll see her as the man who lost the greatest wealth the tribes have- never mind. You should be more worried about Fayala than my betrothed,” he replied.

“I don’t know what to think about Fayala,” I muttered.

“You like her, yes? Tall, pretty, clever. She’s perfect for an overgrown lump like you!” Kril snapped.

“In my country we don’t arrange things this way,” I grumbled. I was looking forward to seeing those hazel eyes again but judging from Jandak’s mood it might not be a happy reunion. I sure as hell didn’t want to marry a woman I’d barely spoken to!

“How does it work where you’re from?” chimed in Mune with genuine interest.

“We’d go out for meals, hang out, talk- I don’t know how to explain it but it didn’t involve a drop of blood on a strip of cloth! It also didn’t involve it being arranged by sneaky old men!”

“I’m not old!” Kril complained. “Well, I’m not that old!” he added as every eye narrowed in his direction. “It’s a good match, Mond. We didn’t force her to give you the blood bond. That was her choice! You’ll complete the cull while we get a few more chariots finished then you can get married and we’ll head towards the Jagarnyn camp and have a word or two with Sulk.”

“I don’t even know if she really likes me,” I said softly and got a clip around the head from Kril.

“We’re talking about the future of the tribe! Stop thinking about where you’ll plant your spear! And yes she ‘likes’ you, whatever that’s supposed to mean. If the story of you killing the Ur-Vile has gotten about you’ll have every maiden in the camp throwing herself at your feet!” I rubbed my head and glared at Kril who smirked back at me.

“How will you fix the loss of the tusks?” asked Jandak suspiciously.

“By growing plants!” Kril chuckled and Jandak’s face fell.

“We aren’t farmers like the shit-sitters. That will not salvage my honour!” he complained.

“I’ve got magic to make plants grow fast. So does Mond, that he chose to keep to himself for some stupid bloody reason,” Kril replied with a twinkle in his eyes.

“So what? It’s farming! Why don’t we start selling the magic stones? If we get enough levels to start enchanting…” his face fell as I shook my head firmly.

“We don’t want that kind of thing getting out into the wild. Enemies will buy them up and use them against us. Best we keep that to ourselves,” I said definitively.

“Fine. What bloody plants?” Jandak turned his ire back onto Kril who plainly didn’t care. He was bouncing along happily.

“Rubia dye. Dream-spice. Ched. I’ve got some Hellas weed as well somewhere. That will sell for a dozen onz per plant!” Kril seemed to be planning to go into the drug dealing business. Dye’s and ched were fine but…

“What’s Hellas weed?” I demanded.

“Makes you happy and sleepy. Hungry too. Very popular among the nobles and their retinues,” he replied with a shrug.

“We don’t want folks getting high! We need our people sharp!” I enjoyed alcohol but had always refused any other form of recreational drugs on general principle.

“Pah. We sell it to Hakubin’s people then. Don’t get your loincloth wedged in your crack!”

The conversation stopped as we passed through the palisade and into the town proper. The chariots had unloaded their passengers who were waiting for us patiently. The charioteers put their ponies back in the paddock and then pulled the contraptions by hand to move them into the Hatrik and Herm section of the camp.

Kril dragged us all along to his tent then sent the warriors, bar Jandak and Mune, to fetch Trikilo and the heads of the Hatrik and Herm families. We settled down as he began boiling water for ched.

“Just back me up when they get here. Trikilo and I have been working on them while you’ve been gone but we’ll probably need to do a little demonstration when they get here. If I tap my shoulder you should show them Aresk’s mark, ok boy?” he glowered at me and I nodded slowly. Perhaps it was finally time to get some use out of the damn thing?

A few minutes later Trkilo joined us with Kos in tow. I exchanged forearm clasps with both of them.

“We need to ride south in force and reclaim the ivory!” said Trikilo as soon as he had sat down.

“We could do. Take the chariots and some riders to demand the return of the cart. Did the aurox die in the fire?” Kril asked me. I shook my head.

“I didn’t get a notification for them,” I said thoughtfully. If that section of town had survived it was possible we could launch a raid to reclaim our lost property.

“If we take spare horses we could set off in the morning and be back there tomorrow evening,” Trikilo pointed out. “Kril, you’re too cheerful not to have already figured out another angle but it’s a matter of family pride. Hatrikhan and Hermatas will both demand it.”

“I’m ready to head back right now! Mune and I can outrun the horses!” Jandak declared with a broad grin.

“Don’t be a fool! You're only a little better off than the rest of the Fangs! No. You should ride out in force. A dozen of the new chariots and thirty riders would scare the shit-sitters into letting us reclaim our tusks. They won’t know what to make of you! Mond, make me some Rapid Growth stones today to use up your mana. By the time you return triumphant I’ll have enough dream-spice and ched to pad that wealth into something we can trade at the festival,” Kril ordered. “It’s not ideal but we’ll end up as the wealthiest faction there!”

“You lost the ivory?” demanded a basso voice from the tent flap.

“A temporary setback, Hatrikhan,” said Kril quickly, rising to his feet and nodding as the squat man entered in his dull red tunic. Up close his face was almost identical to Trikilo’s, deep set eyes and a broad forehead. His hair was greyer and had receded slightly but the resemblance was remarkable. This must be the effect of a small gene pool- everyone looks like everyone else.

“Ched, Hatrikhan?” Kril offered, adding the ground leaves into his pot. The patriarch grunted and sat down.

“Where is my uncle?” he demanded of Jandak. My friend pulled out the bronze talisman, still pierced through by an iron headed crossbow bolt and passed it over to Hatrikhan. The point was bloody, as was the back of the chit.

“We must punish them for this. Losing a warrior or being chased out is not a blood debt but this? This spits on the trade-truce. We need to regain our face. Jandak, you will lead a raid. Burn their fields, kill their animals and if they won’t return the goods, with a little extra by way of apology, burn their town!” The old man was fuming, his face bright red with spittle flying as he snapped his words out.

“Patriarch, I will not lead it,” Jandak bowed his head low.

“What is this disrespect? You’ll do as your lord commands, bastard!” Hatrikhan barked.

“I hope I’m not interrupting? Khan, are you aware your voice carries rather well?” said another man ducking into the tent, followed by Kos.

“Atas! These bloody fools have lost the ivory and our honour! They ran from the town!” Khan said more quietly.

“So I've been told. Old friend, are you aware of why they fled?” Atas asked gently.

“What does it matter? They must return and take revenge or I will not sanction the marriages! Jandak can keep his pecker in his shorts another year and this one-” he shot me a venomous glare, “-can forget about my daughter and his adoption into the family!”

“The dead, cousin. The dead walked and fought. If not for your future son in law that plague might have made its way here. Worse yet the shit-sitters could have marched on us during the winter with unliving soldiers.” Hermatas had a smooth voice, intelligent and calm. He was slightly shorter and younger than Hatrikhan, and wore a bright yellow tunic instead of a dull red one.

“Aurox shit! Aresk’s stinking feet! Atas, are you mad?” Khan demanded. Atas smiled and lowered himself to sit, accepting a cup of ched as Kril passed it to him.

“I’m told they can prove it. As well as a number of other things I’m intrigued to see,” Atas fixed me with a flat stare. He didn’t seem to doubt me but I got the feeling he wasn’t expecting much. I noticed Kril tap his own shoulder in the corner of my vision and began unwinding the cloth on my left arm to reveal the golden mark.

“God touched!” hissed Khan.

“As I suspected. And the other tricks I’ve heard your warriors muttering about?” asked Atas.

“They aren’t my-” I began but Jandak cut me off.

“We are. Uncle, that’s why I won’t lead the raid. I will ride beside Mond to pay them back though!” Jandak explained to Khan.

“A force of chariots and cavalry, armed with our new weapons, is all we need,” Trikilo added. I wasn’t sure. If Mortimer had the same kind of connection to his soulbound as I did, I expected he would already know that Getha was dead. He might have sent forces to investigate or even gone himself if he was nearby.

“Fast movement would be best. Everyone should be mounted or riding a chariot,” I jumped in. “If my enemy has returned we’ll need to retreat. I’m not strong enough to face him yet.”

“Cowards words!” sneered Khan.

“Brother. He is god-marked. Have a care in case Aresk takes offence on Mond’s behalf. He killed an Ur-Vile singlehanded. Of all of them he could have fled the fastest, he’d have escaped for certain. He did not. He is a Vileslayer, not a coward,” Trikilo rebuked his brother. A flush of warmth spread across my cheeks at the praise. Was that how they saw me? Those that had been there that day thought I was some kind of hero? I chuckled internally at just how wrong they were.

“Hah. What a terrible enemy this must be to scare the Vileslayer!” Khan fixed me with a look.

“He’s Shikrakyn. Like me.” I summoned a ball of fire in front of me and waited for it to fade. As soon as it appeared Khan leapt back and pulled his dagger. Kos locked his hands on the older man's wrist from behind and held him in place.

“You as well, son?” he snapped over his shoulder but he relaxed and shrugged off the younger man's grip.

“Me as well, father,” Kos said apologetically.

“You foment rebellion in my family,” Khan said dryly. “But your training is widely appreciated by our warriors. The other families sneer but none dare to challenge our men now. You can summon fire and have the mark. What are we to you?”

I glanced at Jandak and the other Fangs, then at Kril and Trikilo while I considered my response. His eyes never left my face. I doubted he had the uncanny truth-sense Kril seemed to possess but I had no wish to lie to him. These were forthright people, simple relative to the folks back home, and I had come to appreciate that characteristic in them.

“My first encounter with your tribe I killed five of your young warriors. The last of them asked me to tell his father he died well. I had no special intention of doing so but when Hakubin found my camp in the steppe I took the opportunity to discharge that request. Then I was captured, tormented and strung up to die. Kril took me under his wing and I have become friends with some of your people.” It felt strange to say but Kril, Trikilo and the Fangs all felt like what I thought friends ought to be, “My enemy has made himself King of Urkash and begun conquering the surrounding lands. His power has spread to Gethanel and the other villages that line the steppe.” I paused for breath and to consider my next words before continuing.

“You and your people are a blessing to me. You’re strong and brave, fierce and honourable. I know a lot of things that can help you and I can give you magic to make you stronger. Jandak, can you demonstrate please?”

My big friend grinned and rose to his feet. He drew his flint dagger and sliced a long thin line down his arm. A trickle of red dripped down from the cut. He moved close to Khan and Atas then used his own Heal spell. He wiped his arm across his tunic and presented the smooth and unblemished skin to the patriarchs.

“Healing magic? What about the madness?” demanded Atas with a sharp look.

“I don’t think it was madness. Maybe it was, I’m not very strong yet, but I think the previous Shikrakyn were thought to be mad because of the wars and devastation they must have left in their wake,” I suggested. “We’re sent here to kill each other until only one of us is left. The people of this world got caught up in those wars and assumed they happened because my predecessors were mad.” I had been ruminating on the subject and had meant to discuss my ideas with Kril before sharing them but now seemed as good a time as any.

Khan and Atas switched their glares to Kril who shrugged.

“It is possible. Mond has shown no signs of being affected by his powers. Let me show you a little something.” He scrambled over to his shelves and pulled a leather pouch down from the highest one.

He scattered a handful of seeds that he pulled from the leather pouch at his feet, and then knelt down to put a finger on the floor. Wiry grey-green shoots boiled up, some of them winding up his arm as they climbed towards the roof of the tent, while others twisted into thick knots wound around themselves as they grew.

After a few seconds they were waist high and Kril had to struggle to free his arm, dragging up a patch of the impossible greenery as he rose to his feet.

“Dream-spice.” Kril dragged his hand up the vines and showed the leaves and seeds to the older men. “With this alone we’re rich but I have other seeds from valuable plants. Between myself, Mond, and eventually the others, we'll be able to churn out the most valuable dyes and herbs in vast quantities!” He finished with a signature cackle.

“Kos, the other fangs have already received magic. I saved enough Souls for you as well. My captains should be the strongest,” I said, offering him my hand. Kos grinned and grabbed my wrist. There was a brief pressure from Aresk’s aura sealing us all together; Khan and Atas smiled broadly at this sign from a god. I guessed the mark was good for something after all?

I passed Kos the Souls and sat back down to laboriously explain the English status screens my illiterate follower had gained access to. Kril snickered along as Kos stumbled through the process.

After a further round of questioning and Kos being forced to display his new magic by healing himself, the meeting wound down with a bottle of fermented mare's milk. Khan and Atas had both largely gotten over their doubts about me, and on the condition that we retrieved the tusks or burned the town down in retribution for Hatrikandos’ murder while under truce; Kril and Trikilo’s plans would be fully embraced by the heads of the families.

My new patrons were nothing if not ambitious. The training in close quarters fighting would be stepped up to include all the warriors of both families and intensified. Chariot construction was also to be boosted, with the aim to have thirty vehicles complete by the end of the cull. The cull was due to begin in four days, to coincide with the new moon, so we didn’t have a lot of time to get to Gethanel and back but Jandak seemed confident it would be possible.

Once again Kril schemed to force me to serve as the primary killer of the animals. The herds had to be culled at the start of winter, much like the harvest festivals back on Earth would have involved animal slaughters in the pre-industrial age. The religious nature of the mass slaughter was just a product of the primitive times.

The beasts needed fodder and protection from the elements during the winter, both of which were in short supply among the Areskyn, meaning only limited numbers could be preserved. One of the primary reasons for sending out the traders before the cull was to acquire salt to help preserve the glut of meat for at least part of the colder months. Our failure at Gethanel posed a serous problem for the families.

Milk was something the tribes had in abundance and I’d explained the concepts of potting meat using clarified butter. Khan and Atas were both intrigued by the idea but they became confused when I started explaining about bacteria and fungus. They took me at my word that fired clay pots filled with cooked meat, then sealed with clarified butter would make the meat last for weeks if not months at ambient temperatures and planned to begin trials with the first culled animals.

Eventually the meeting broke up and I was directed to the next tent along the row. In my absence Kril had arranged for me to have my own yurt and I was grateful for the privacy. As the tent flap fell down behind me I took in the space. It was smaller than Kril’s but followed a similar pattern. A smoke hole in the roof still let in some light and a crude wooden platform was covered in furs to one side. Mattresses went to the top of my list of technology I’d try to help the tribe invent as I looked at the pile of animal skins. Across the central fire from my bed lay a small chest, one of Krils I was sure. I opened it up and a few belongings had been put inside it.

In addition it contained a leather pouch that I discovered held ched, a few pots and bowls as well as wooden spoons for eating. My shorts, the ones I'd bought from the shop all those months ago, were clean and folded neatly inside as well. The bronze spear was propped in a corner and Jetan’s armour had been laid out on the ground to one side. I unwound my loincloth and donned the shorts with a sigh, letting the tunic hang down over the top of them. A cough from the flap startled me.

“My lord. I’ve brought you some food.” Fayala stooped to enter my tent and I became intensely aware I’d been flashing my arse about only seconds ago.

“Don’t call me that. Thanks Fayala. Will you join me?” I asked, taking the bowl from her.

“You have my bond?” she replied questioningly as she produced another bowl from behind her back and went to sit on the edge of my bed.

“Your bond?” I sat down by the pre-laid fire and with a thought it flared to life, the dry wood catching immediately.

“The cloth with my promise!” She narrowed her eyes at me.

“Ah. Yes, I do.” I put down the bowl and tugged at the bracelet of cloth. “It got a bit messy while we were away,” I apologised as I passed it back to her. She held it up in the firelight and smiled savagely as she noted it was entirely red now. Blood from the fighting in Gethanel and my interrogation of Getha had painted over the small spot she had marked it with.

“You didn’t take very good care of it!” Her face suddenly became stern.

“I had to fight! I didn’t mean-” I tried to explain but a tinkling laugh rang out as she creased up.

“You truly don’t know our ways! This is fine, Vileslayer. I’d have been disappointed if you’d fled without at least adding to my blood,” she chuckled. Such a strange woman.

“I’m not sure how this works. In my culture we normally go out for a meal or a drink before- um well before whatever this is,” I stuttered.

“Whatever this is?” she arched an eyebrow at me. “You accepted my bond. I’m far past the age I should have been wed thanks to being pledged to Hakubin since he was small. Do you know what that’s like? All your friends and sisters getting married and becoming mothers while you’re left to wait for a spoiled brat to grow hair on his balls? I think I’ll be a lot happier with you than that little shit. Aren’t you bothered I’m so old?” She was twenty one if she was a day.

“You’re hardly old and I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want!” I was a killer back home but I was always polite to women. Most of my relationships had been transactional in nature, since my marriage fell apart, and my job became my life. I’d still maintained decent manners with the ladies of negotiable affection I’d hired though.

“Won’t you now? What if I want you to force me?” She emitted a throaty chuckle then laughed uproariously as my entire head went red. “Don’t worry, Urkendyn, I hope you’ll be happy with me. As your betrothed I came to ask for a favour.”

“I’m sure I’ll be happy,” I managed to grunt.

“You have discovered how to give your followers magic. I want it as well. As your wife it would only be right,” she said with a grin. I smiled back as the expression reached her eyes and they danced in the flickering light of the fire.

“I’m a bit short on Souls at the moment,” I began but she waved a hand to silence me.

“My dowry will make you wealthy, my father hasn’t broached the subject with you?”

“Who’s your dad again?” I asked, struggling to keep up with how she jumped from topic to topic.

“Hatrikhan.”

“Khan is your old man? So... Kos will be my brother in law?” I wondered half to myself.

“He’s hardly old and yes, Kossy will give me away as well as welcome you as his brother. You don’t need to give me magic before we are wed but I would like to see the world as you do if we are to journey through life together.”

“How did you know I’d given magic to the captains? Is it widely known?” I was worried.

“Kos is my little brother. He doesn’t keep secrets from his older sister,” she replied archly. Kos was younger than this woman? I’d have sworn he was half again her age. The men in the tribe seemed to age fast up to a point and then just grey slightly it seemed. Weird genetics maybe?

“But it isn’t widely known?” I insisted urgently.

“No. Only to myself outside of those in your secret meeting. Father really should learn to keep his voice down though, I could hear everything he said from here!”

“My ability to give people Souls lets me control them as well, if I want,” I confessed. “I haven’t used it and I won’t but I can feel that it’s there.” Those hazel eyes narrowed once again, her aquiline face took on a predatory look for a moment before she gave me a radiant smile.

“I thank you for your honesty. I do not mind. Will you agree?” she said. I nodded slowly. I needed to get more Souls, and quickly. “Thank you… may I call you Mond, like the warriors?” she asked.

“I prefer Ray.” She rose to her feet and stepped towards me, I stood up and towered over her as she drew close in the smoky confines of the yurt. She reached out with a delicate milk white hand, and taking my now empty bowl from unresisting fingers she placed it on top of her own in her left hand. Her free hand then reached up to cup my cheek and she leaned forward. My face dipped down and our lips met for a lingering moment.

“Seeing as we’re to marry…” I wondered aloud as my hands began to get ideas of their own. The alcohol I'd drunk earlier and her proximity overcame my uncertainty. The hand on my cheek pulled back and slapped me lightly.

“Thank you, Ray.” She smiled up at me and all my cynicism melted away for a second before slamming back into place. If she was to be my wife, a possibility I now found extremely appealing, I’d have to make sure she was protected from my enemies, those from Earth and here in the camp. She turned gracefully and left without another word, leaving me in turmoil. I stretched out on my furs and my thoughts went back to the brief glimpse I’d seen from the tent flap when she woke up after the vile-cat attack.