Tribal Dawn: Mordufa: Volume Three

by Cassie Wolf

  He’d been walking for a day and camped between the roots of a tree overnight, listening to the sounds and chirps of the rainforest. The smell of the animals, the brightness of the flowers, there was something enchanted about this part of Vuunis. Whenever he completed a contract, the sanctuary felt like home. Here, he belonged. It was wild, untameable and unpredictable.

  When he passed the last warning skulls, instead of changing into his Silent-step gear, he kept his disguise on. He didn’t want to risk a Blood-and-White huntsmen or trader seeing the attire of Mordufa. After half a year building his home and mating with the Chief’s daughter, it was a good idea to keep the place as a backup if something went wrong in the north. He’d witnessed his brethren kill the wrong targets, and swarms of golden guards searching for the culprits. Those who were clumsy enough to be caught didn’t have a standby, safe region far away to hide in. If they had, maybe their deaths could’ve been prevented.

  Settling beside the fire, he cooked a sliver of meat, then ate it, lapping the juices from his hand. He already missed the strange mix of vegetables and generous cuts of meat from the communal cooks.

  Vakaar lay back, gazing at the stars between the gaps in the towering, ancient trees. There was no sign of Luaani where he rested. Her children twinkled like crystals against the black. Those who prevented the death of travellers in the cursed twilight hours.

  Zura would’ve enjoyed this type of thing. Laying beneath the stars and pondering what the gods had waiting in the future. In his hut, the heat of the candles and cooking pots muddled the images of the mind. The days in humid heat stopped him thinking about the words people used. Over the moons, he hadn’t noticed. It took being away from the village beside his tiny fire, alone, to do so. It was dawning on him what Zura offered. She wanted him to be her mate, despite what he was. There was no doubting she intended to wait for that day when he’d had enough. Unlike the women in his past who’d tried to possess and trap him, she didn’t. Zura let him go, understanding. He filled the void of what she’d previously lost. But in her eyes there was sincere affection like he’d never seen. The type that made him uncomfortable to think of. He’d grown used to holding her, relaxing beneath the sky here, he was missing something.

  Vakaar twitched. A rustle of twigs and stumbling footsteps had him up, weapon drawn. He doused the flames and slid into the shadows. There weren’t many hostiles this close to the Blood-and-White tribe.

  Whoever it was, they were whispering. The outline emerged of a teenage boy, the pack on his back too big for his frame and something like an infant clutched in his arms.

  Kill the wandering teenager and take the child for training, though it was quite a distance between here and the sanctuary. He’d kidnapped and cared for children for a short period of two weeks at most, but this would drag longer than a full moon with regular stops.

  “We’re going to be there soon,” the boy whispered.

  There was something off in his tone, a lilt of the tongue. The curly haired boy stopped beside a pond and knelt. In the moonlit glow, it looked as though he had definitely come from Blood-and-Shadow. The markings and hair were a giveaway. There would be no loss in killing him. Vakaar crept through the tall, dry grasses and a ray of Luaani’s light shone on his face. He twitched. Something wasn’t right. Zura’s words echoed in his head. You don’t have to kill everyone, some could have hope. No, he did have to end the boy, it’s how he always did it. It was his sustenance.

  The sooner he was far away from this region, the better. Vakaar watched, deciding he’d give it a chance. If nothing else, he could check to see if the infant was worth taking. They cried when separated from their parents. If it was loud, it wouldn’t be worth the risk.

  The boy delicately placed the infant on the side. The baby remained silent. Vakaar furrowed his brow. There was no cooing, no snoring, no disturbance at going from the comfort of its carer to the solid, cold ground. He stepped closer.

  “It’s alright to cry, Umbu. Shhh, it’s fine. It’s all fine. We’re away from there.”

  Vakaar, further confused, stared. Was he going deaf? No, he couldn’t be. He heard the teenagers words clearly. Away from there? He wasn’t a Blood-and-Shadow warrior. He’d escaped. Rumour had it in the White tribe it was nigh on impossible. It was almost a shame to kill him.

  From the right angle, light shone on the little girl. Vakaar looked at Mordufa’s star, kissed his finger and raised it high. The baby had died in the past day or so. The teenager, to judge by the way he held himself, shivering, and the wobbly tone in his voice was at the beginning of a steep spiral into insanity. His muscles were tight as if he’d been in heavy conflict and clothes were severely bloodstained.

  Vakaar, for the first time, was at a loss for what to do. Ordinarily, he’d kill him and put him out of his misery. Approaching madmen was chancy; there was no way of predicting what they’d do. Zura’s sweet voice played on him: you don’t think of who you kill. Leaning against the tree, a part of him cursed meeting her. He slid his dagger back in its sheath and stepped out, making his presence known. The instant he did, the boy twisted around, drawing a rusted sword too heavy for his skinny arms.

  “Step back!” He trembled and picked up the baby, defensively.

  Vakaar raised his hands in the air. “Easy there, curly locks. I was passing through and heard you mumbling. Thought you could use some help.” Getting closer, he inspected the bundle. The boy had his arm covering her. “I’m Vakaar.”

  The teenager sniffed. “Nuru.”

  “Well, Nuru, you look like you’ve been through a hell of a shitstorm, a babe in your arms, too. Where have you come from?”

  Nuru opened his mouth. His eyes darted quickly left and right, searching for an answer. “Are you from the Shadow?” he asked, lifting the weapon. “You look like you’re from there. Are you a new tracker?! Don’t come near me!”

  “I can assure you, I have no fucking clue who you are or where you’re from. You appear in distress, and I simply wish to know if I can help.” Inside, Vakaar laughed. Just kill him. Ignoring the itchy urge, he continued, “Where have you come from? It’s pretty damn admirable to get this far holding a shit weapon that clearly doesn’t belong to you, nor do you have the experience to wield it. Guessing its owner is eating earth now.”

  “I… escaped. I need to get to my uncle. My sister is still there.”

  Vakaar focused on the child. “Is the little one…hmm, your sister’s?”

  “No. A friend… she helped me to escape.” Gasping, Nuru glared at the lake. “I don’t know where I am.” He laughed coarsely, face scrunched up.

  Ah, despair. He’s already lost. There is no point in prolonging this. Vakaar rested his hand on his dagger. It would be a blessing. No, that soft voice pleaded, hear his words, you know that madness too well. What makes a Silent-step? Misery. Hatred. Killing without thought. He’s too old to be changed, Kreiess, there is no hope. If you believe that, Vakaar, then you didn’t succeed at changing me, did you? Vakaar twitched and pulled a pouch of nuts out of his pocket. “Here, sit down. It’s not much. Give me your girl while you enjoy a feast.”

  Nuru stared him down, a gold glint in his catlike eyes, manic. He wanted to eat but didn’t want to give up the child. “How do I know you won’t run off with her?”

  Vakaar couldn’t suppress the chuckle. He tilted his head. “I’ve cared for many children. Enough to make me despise their presence when I’m their sole caretaker. A true thief doesn’t take responsibilities – and they are huge ones. They take gold, jewels and unnecessary items.” He kicked some rocks out of the way before settling down, arms outreached. “Give her to me, I’ll stay right here.”

  Reluctantly, Nuru passed her across. “It’s alright, Umbu. I need to eat, and I’ll hold you again.” He smiled. He plonked on the floor as if his muscles gave him little choice in the matter and snatched the pouch.

  Vakaar gave the roguish grin that humans do when holding the delicacy of new life. Life was far from the
truth. She had not long been born nor had she been cleaned after. In the clumps of dark hair, he could see a thick, jagged wound to her head, alongside further knife marks to the body. He didn’t believe she had opened her eyes for the first time before it happened. “She’s a precious thing,” he whispered as if she was sleeping, tracing the slashes. “Umbu, you said her name was? She doesn’t look any more than a couple of days old.”

  “I named her after her mother. Last night she was born.” Nuru looked away as if pained. He flinched and grabbed another handful of nuts, some falling to the ground in his haste. “We were chased. I killed… I killed a fucking lot of them. Her mother went into labour. I had to cut her out.” Nuru wiped away a tear and crouched forward, kissing her on the forehead, a proud smile on his face. “I saved her from it.”

  This world is going to tear him apart. It’s crueller to delay. Nuru is a nobody, and his sister is already dead if he ran. “Were you chased from the Shadow tribe?” Vakaar’s hand was certain, slithering to the dagger.

  “Yes.” Nuru sat back. “My father, he tried to keep us locked up. He wanted me to be his heir but I couldn’t. I can’t. Not after what he’s done. He wanted me to bind to my fucking sister.”

  Immediately, Vakaar’s hand dropped. He focused on the boy’s features. Curly hair, that was common for the Shadow, and in Jasari’s bastards and garasums. Turpu was the only family he’d seen personally, and her face resembled a rodent’s. The distinctive traces were the locks on his head and his dimples. Nuru could be speaking in tongues. In his delusion he could see his father as a Chief when actually, he was a farmer or an innkeeper, wanting him to take over the family business. “Hmm… I’m not one for judging customs, though incest always mystified me. Heir?”

  “To their dirty tribe. I couldn’t do it. Dia can fuck himself. He’s not my blood.” Nuru trembled. “My mother, she didn’t deserve that.”

  Vakaar furrowed his brow. This wasn’t pure madness. There was an element of it, but his words were true. “Was your mother one of his garasums?”

  “No.” Nuru laughed and punched the ground. “That would’ve made it easier. He wouldn’t care to search for me. She was a spare.”

  “Aren’t spares treated the same as garasums?”

  “Not with her bloodline.” He bit his lip and hesitated. “I need to get to her brother. He can save my sister.”

  “You’re incredibly certain this uncle gives a shit considering he sounds like he’s never helped before.”

  “He’s the Chief of Blood-and-White. When he hears that Dia killed his sister, he’ll have to help me. He has to.”

  Vakaar glanced at the dead infant he was rocking back and forth. The tie to Atsu made sense, given his physical appearance. It was hard to read the words of a boy cursed by shock. Atsu said his family perished in a fire years ago. Would he tell a stranger about his surviving sister? Men like Atsu put on a front of being honest about everything, so no one questioned further. There was no need. If Nuru turned up at the gates with Dia’s curls and dimples, carrying a dead baby, he’d have an arrow impaling his heart in seconds. Dia had already paid a lot of money to the Silent-step for a job they could never do; how much would he be willing to pay for his son?

  “I can help you, Nuru.” Vakaar smirked and gently handed over Umbu. “You see, I know Chief Atsu and his family well. I can tell you with no shred of doubt that he’d execute you in your current state. We’re not far from there. It wouldn’t kill me to escort you back and get you your audience.”

  Nuru’s mouth parted. He wiped his hands on his knees. A huge grin broke on his face. “You can take me there?”

  “Oh yes. I can speak on your behalf. I can get you better clothes, and we’ll make sure this little one is seen by a healer.”

  “Really?! Thank you. Thank you so much for your help. And we won’t be a burden?”

  Vakaar licked his lips and looked at them both. “As long as you keep her crying under control and care for her, it’s not a problem. Like I said, I’ve looked after many children over the years.” He stood and clapped his hands together. “I have a camp nearby. It’s best we sleep tonight and depart in the morning. We’ll be there by the evening if we’re quick.”

  Nuru shot up and cradled Umbu on his shoulder. “We’re going to see him. I can’t believe it. We’re going to get Kara out of there!”

  Vakaar smiled and led the way between the trees. “Yes, yes you are. You’ll both get what you need, and it’ll be wonderful.”

  “Wait.” Nuru paused. He glanced over his shoulder, eyes fast. “Warriors are searching for me. I mean, there are fucking loads of them. They’ll know I’ve come this way.”

  Vakaar rested a hand on his shoulder. “Believe me, Nuru, they’re the least of your worries from now on. Between here and our destination, I’ll take care of them.”

  “Are you a warrior?”

  “I have experience killing if that’s what you mean. I took out three a few weeks back, lurking in Atsu’s territory. It was a religious shrine of sorts. No god eased their hundred-foot fall. Come, we’ll get rested and prepare for the morning.” Vakaar led the way back to his doused fire. It wasn’t the greatest spot, but at least it was flat, and he had blankets that weren’t covered in stains or smelt funny. He showed Nuru his space, helped set up a nest of leaves for the corpse, and relit the fire.

  Nuru tucked in the child like she was his own, wishing her the best of dreams and whispering of fairy tale dresses and huts. Vakaar took out his spare flask. He counted phials, back turned. “Here, have some of this.”

  Nuru caught it and sipped it, pulling a face. “What’s in that?”

  “You’ve had a restless night. It’ll help you sleep in peace as if in the comfort of a quilted bed, stuffed like the most spoilt Chief.” Vakaar rested by the trunk and poked the fire, raising a comforting warmth.

  Nuru fiddled to get comfortable and pulled the blanket up to his chin. Yawning, he looked to Vakaar. “Thank you. I don’t know how to repay you.”

  Vakaar smirked. The south and Zura had had him thinking he was losing himself. It’s true that if he hadn’t met her he probably wouldn’t have spoken to Nuru. He’d have had a quick fix, a satisfying death by his hand that filled urges for a week. Now he had something better. A toy to torture a Chief out of his gold. A glimpse of Zura brought an unsettling stab on his torso. She wasn’t there. He hungered for her scent.

  Vakaar listened to the fire. The smell and heat had him resting back. It was normal after half a year to have an attachment. She was the sole person he’d spoken to. It would pass.

  It didn’t take long for Nuru to drop into a deep slumber. With a shot of excitement, Vakaar crept up and inspected his face. He did a double take. From this angle, it was like looking at a past mirror of himself, except with different hair. He rubbed his eyes, regained his focus and leant close to Nuru’s ear. Sleeping and unaware, Vakaar whispered corruption into Nuru, bending him to his will.

  - CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR -

  For three nights after the battle, Tau rolled in and out of consciousness. Everything blurred. Silhouettes yelled deep, incoherent words. There was a heat in his side, burning and throbbing, deafening compared to everything else. He was being moved, he felt it, but couldn’t react. His body had nothing to give in the way of action. A husky female voice whispered and the blazing pain cooled. The thumping quietened.

  His eyes flickered. The blue of the sky was blinding. He first thought it must have been raining from his soaked skin. It was sweat. He was laying on something solid and rigid. His sight was hazy. Everything swirled and twisted like the time Vakaar had poisoned him.

  “Tau?” Rura came into view above. The cuts grazing his cheeks had scabbed. “Thank fuck you’re awake!”

  Tau widened his eyes and took a moment to adjust. They were moving. He clicked his tongue, mouth dry and stomach aching hungrily. He tried to sit up when pain shot through the wound. “Fuck!”

  Rura kept him down and fed him from his fla
sk. “The healers said don’t do any sudden movements.”

  “A little late for that.” Tau spluttered on the lukewarm water, tasting traces of bitter medicine. “What’s happening? Why are we in a cart?”

  Rura grinned faintly and took out a scroll. He unrolled it and dangled it in Tau’s face. The signature of Jabali and the Chiefs of Inferno was at the bottom. “We’re going home. After the battle on the field, we cleared out most of the camps. The ones left are the shitty ones they usually have. Shame, you had a higher count than Ebhi until you let that bitch stab you.”

  On the one hand, he was relieved to be going home after the horrors he’d witnessed. On the other, there had been losses, massive losses. Unika, Rura’s family and his brethren. They’d fallen, and just like that, he was leaving. That was it. Duty was done. It was time to put the images of the dead to the back of his mind and wait for the next time. He’d killed pregnant women, mothers, children and sisters, but it was alright. He got to go home while they rotted and their families were shattered.

  For the rest of the journey, Tau was quiet while he recovered. He assumed when he left Inferno, the night terrors and insomnia would disappear. They didn’t. When he tried to sleep off his pain, he felt red raining on his skin. He smelt the stench of spilled intestines and the rotting decay of those piled on the side.

  He wasn’t the only one. Rura’s muttering worsened. When they had to stop, he got into arguments, lashing out, and had to be chained until he cooled down. A few others screamed in their sleep, trembled through the day, vomited and couldn’t eat. The one who could cope was Ebhi. He was calm, collected, unwounded and slept as easily as when they’d left.