The woman was no doubt skilled. Were she fully seasoned, she no doubt would have been a deadly challenger during his days of chasing ‘The Skull-Faced Man.’ However, even with a proper weapon, the outcome of their contest was obvious. Upon shattering her primitive spear blade, the Knight spun to deliver the death-blow by decapitation. She had been an honorable opponent and a swift death had been earned.
As he brought the black blade down in final judgment, the world slowed to a snail’s pace. At the edge of the clearing stood a magnificent Pride Male Lion! The great beast’s eyes flashed with red fire and it bared brilliant white fangs.
Suddenly, the words spoken to him by the God Qatula came to him as were he standing beside him, ‘See Caretaker, sometimes it is not a bad thing to give respite to an enemy. The key is knowing for who and when to bestow so valuable a gift.’
At the same moment, a woman’s voice rose in a scream as the woman warrior was slammed to the ground with tremendous force!
The Valley Knight stepped back from his downed opponent and sheathed the Nife Blade. A young woman ran towards them heedless of his presence. Here thin black braids bounced around her head as she advanced reminded him of his horse’s mane. She slid to a halt in the mix of palm leaf litter, sand and blood to crush the woman to her breast. She screamed and called out the unmoving woman’s name over and over.
When the young woman turned tear-filled enraged eyes towards him, the Knight’s heart froze. The woman raged at him and rocked back and forth with her limp compatriot. After several moments, the Knight regained his composure and grabbed the woman’s wrist.
Though she futilely tried to wrest her arm away, he managed to put the squirming woman’s fingers against her friend’s neck. His eyes locked upon hers the Knight gave an angry, “Shhhh!”
It was enough to startle the woman momentarily and he pressed her fingers firmly against the warrior’s neck. It took a number of moments, but the wriggling stopped and sobbing slowed as the young woman felt the strongly beating pulse of her unconscious friend.
****
Meru was beside herself with relief! The black and white clad warrior who slaughtered the Tenaree spared her Spirit-Sister’s life. The warrior moved off and moments later, the surviving Tenaree was gathering up his fallen comrade’s weapons into a large wicker basket. She instantly noticed the crossed bloody ‘X’ cut prominently into his forehead. It was the mark of one who’d surrendered to a superior opponent and traded his life for service.
The Warrior returned with the strange beast resembling a larger and fiercer version of a zebra. The beast pawed the ground and its hooves seemed shine in the firelight as if sheathed in gold. Meru watched the Warrior pat the beast roughly and it settled down with a low grumbling sound.
Then despite her protests, he lifted N’Sisi’s limp form from the ground with ease and laid her across the back of the strange beast. The Warrior then knelt down before her then extended his open sword hand. Even kneeling, his gaze had an effect upon her. Meru was instantly spellbound looking into his piercing dark eyes.
“Who are you?” asked Meru enthralled.
“Someone who has come far to protect you.”
Before Meru could press him for more answers, the Warrior lifted her from the ground by the waist and placed her astride the back of the beast. He then signaled to the Tenaree whose back was bent under the weight of the gathered copper weapons.
Meru looking down at the Warrior who’s name she didn’t know was taken aback to see him staring at her as if waiting for something. It didn’t take long for her to realize what was going on and she pointed in the direction her people had fled into the forest.
“We go to Sea City.”
The Warrior gave a curt nod and with the Tenaree walking before them, he pulled the long leather straps that controlled the beast’s movements and led them into the embrace of the night darkened palm forest.
****
The hopeful light of morning was dimmed by the smoke of dying fires. The once thriving Palm City was now little more than a smoldering ruin. The buzzing of flies and scavengers quarrelling over butchered and burned corpses competed with the sounds of Tenaree warriors rifling through rubble searching for treasures.
The whimpering of a young woman could be heard as she was dragged towards the steps of the modest adobe palace in the city center. Her two captors were large Tenaree warriors painted with red and black stripes but one was bald and the other wore a thick mane of braided black hair. Braided leather ropes held her arms fast together and her legs were tied one over the other. The once fine white linen sari she wore was soiled by blood, dirt and soot.
Roughly the two men hauled her up the rounded adobe stairs and her cries grew more intense. With her prone midway from the step’s top, the men halted at the top and turned to face the large assemblage of warriors gathered in the street below. Flanking the warriors were men holding short pikes. Atop the pikes were the brutalized severed heads of Palm City’s King and the Royal Family.
The Bald Warrior held his copper short sword high and then the Maned Warrior raised his copper bladed spear in victory as well. The troops below pounded swords and spears against hide and wicker shields while making a low ‘woo’ sound. The noise soon grew loud enough to cause nearby scavengers to flee the great banquet of death laid out for them.
Both men shouted, “TENAREEEEE!”
The noise made by the troops grew to an ear-splitting level and the two men curtly lowered their weapons. The troops instantly stopped their chant, but it took a long moment for the echo to die down to nothing as it spread across the murdered city. Satisfied with the response, they pointed their weapons towards the mass of armed men. In unison, the multitude laid down their weapons and fell to their knees. The two warrior leaders turned to face the darkened doorway of the palace and they too laid down their weapons and took a knee.
With heads lowered, the bald warrior proclaimed in a voice humble yet loud enough to be heard by the many troops below, “Great Red Spirit, your unworthy servants Balozi and Imamu humbly request your presence to accept the gifts of your enemy’s crushed city, ruined household and the youngest Royal Daughter.”
A long and tense moment passed and then the cool morning air grew uncomfortably warm. A low vibration made the palace steps and the ground tremble. Heavy sheets of flames burst from the palace doorway causing all but the two Tenaree leaders to shout in alarm. From the flames emerged a tall broad-shouldered figure enshrouded within a flowing hooded garment the color of fresh blood!
The figure stood silent before the two men for an instant then extended well-formed, yet powerful looking night black-skinned arms from the brilliant red folds of the garment. Exquisite gold jewelry fashioned from multiple cultures adorned the figure’s wrists and forearms. Delicate long fingers ending in crystalline claw-like nails reached out to the two men. As they leaned forward and placed their heads beneath the dark hands, the flames filling the palace doorway were instantly blotted out.
The figure with head slightly raised revealed a dark feminine jawline and nothing more. A smile languidly stretched across the face giving those who could see the hint of great potential beauty hidden beneath the brilliant red hood.
In a voice which conjured the seductive sound of a warm breeze, the Red Spirit spoke.
“You have done well my children. As I foretold, these weaklings infesting the Palm Forest as do maggots within a carcass have been crushed and driven before you. Balozi and Imamu you were once simple chiefs of rival tribes scrounging for your living in the desert. Now you lead a mighty host.
This victory is but the next to last. As your fellow Chief Summi prepares his advanced force to attack the remaining obstacle in our path, we shall regroup. We shall render this vast forest into engines of war which will reduce the walled city and its people to ash!”
The great host of Tenaree gave a loud ‘Woo’ in response echoing once more across the smoldering ruins.
“Now, rise up my Spirit-Sons and prepare for the coming battle!”
Another great ‘Woo’ came forth from the host, yet no man among them raised their head.
Looking down upon her two great Chiefs the Red Spirit spoke in a more subdued tone.
“I am pleased with your efforts thus far Balozi and Imamu. I have chosen well my Spirit-Husbands. When Summi brings word of his troops attack upon Sea City, the siege will begin. While his men harass and keep the seaside dwellers trapped within their walls, we will then have time to begin plans to build anew upon the ashes of the old.
You three mighty warriors will spill your seed to bring forth a line of kings and queens who will rule these lands and all others we have taken for a thousand years! The ‘People of the Desert’ shall occupy these rich new lands and grow stronger than you can now imagine. But first, a suitable vessel to plant such powerful seed must be obtained.”
It was the Warrior Chief Imamu who proclaimed, “Great Red Spirit, you honor us! We have found a suitable vessel for your assessment.”
Looking over the men’s bowed heads, the Red Spirit took in the whimpering young woman.
“Ah yes, the former King of Palm City’s youngest daughter. Bring her forth.”
Pulling the woman up the remaining stairs, the two Chiefs presented her to their red-cloaked hierarch. The exhausted King’s daughter fell before the feet of the Red Spirit sobbing but then looked up with defiance.
“Haven’t you taken enough fiend? Were not the lives of my family and people sufficient? My Father’s beautiful city and lands could not satisfy your hunger for destruction monster? Now you wish me to bear the children of those who first clasped our hand in friendship…only to turn my people and our home into memory with the other? I will die first!”
The woman’s surge of defiant anger shut off as did her breath seeing what lay beneath the blood-red hood. No gasp could escape the King’s daughter’s throat as the dark hand pointed a slender finger at her. In a burst of wind and sparks like those from a bonfire, the ropes restraining her and her ruined sari flew away from her body! The extravagant black braids upon her head denoting her status violently blew free to flow around her naked flesh.
The Chiefs kept their heads and eyes down as the woman rose from view in the Red Spirit’s grip. However, they did see a pair of shapely calves and naked feet thrash about before them a full two feet above the floor of palace’s outer terrace.
The Red Spirit inspected the King’s daughter by rubbing an ebony shadowed hand over every line, curve and into each orifice of her dark naked flesh. The woman held onto the Spirit’s gold ornament covered arm and hand at her throat with both hands as she vigorously struggled to breathe. Beneath the hood, the Red Spirit smiled.
“Yes. This vessel will do.”
The free dark hand grasped the intricately hammered gold bracelet upon the woman’s arm and in a single swift movement pulled it away. The King’s daughter’s eyes went wide as she felt many of the bones in her wrist and hand snap as the symbol of her birthright was stolen from her. With the hand still clutching her throat, she could not scream in agony.
Holding the bracelet for the stricken woman to see, the Red Spirit watched with wicked mirth as the realization of where the many golden ornaments adorning those black arms came from was reflected in her victim’s bulging eyes.
“As for you former King’s daughter, no 'I have not taken enough' and your wish for death shall be…partially granted.”
The warriors Balozi and Imamu dared not look up as the horrific sounds of stretching and tearing flesh filled their ears. Beneath flailing naked feet fell bright yellow urine, feces and then a torrent of blood! An instant later, the sloppy sound of wet meat and snapping bone hitting the steps rose behind them. Flames erupted before their eyes in a flash and just as quick were extinguished. No sooner had they recognized the Red Spirit had departed, the awful screaming started.
The Chiefs rose to their feet and signaled the troops to also rise and depart. To comply with the Red Spirit’s plans, there was much work ahead and little time to do so. As their troops departed, Balozi went with them. Imamu remained on the steps for several moments to look upon the denuded body of the former King’s Daughter as she gasped and wailed in abject agony!
He had seen this before. The once beautiful young woman was now a hideous living skeleton stripped of its skin writhing about in the sand. With no eyelids, she could not shut out the horror she saw. With no lips, she could not speak. With no ears, she could not hear and with nothing to hold them in, her organs fell away loose from her twitching body.
With what little reason she had remaining, the wretch rolled lidless eyeballs to him for release. Imamu tilted his head as he regarded the fleshy skeletal hand as it reached for him seeking a final mercy. No longer intrigued, he stepped over the disgusting thing and walked away to catch up with his men.
To be continued....
© 2016 H. Wolfgang Porter. All Rights Reserved.
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