Reign of the Nightmare Prince

by Mike Phillips

“Bah, she’s used to traveling with you and eating what half dead game you could fell with that knotty old stick you called a bow.”

  “There was nothing wrong with that bow,” said Rakam defensively.

  “As long as your quarry was asleep or missing a leg or in the act of….”

  “Enough. Now it is my head that swims. Tell me, how far is the City of the Marsh King? I would like to have normal people to talk to.”

  “You mean dull people, but it’s not far. You will find slow-witted ones aplenty there if that is more to your liking. Such a place does that to people. The more important a person thinks himself, the less interesting he generally becomes. It’s the same with the beautiful, no personality at all, so disappointing.”

  “Well, that certainly explains why you have personality in such excess.”

  Mabetu slapped his knee and laughed. “Good one.” He pointed over to where the road turned behind a rocky outcrop, saying, “From that ridge the road leads down to the city. The going will be easier. Actually, I’m surprised we have not met anyone on this road. Pakali has several mines out here.”

  “Is that why the road was built?”

  “Yes.”

  “A fine road it is. I’d bet you could travel upon it with a cart even during the rains, and the going would be as good as it is now.”

  “Yes, Pakali is a great builder. He has a fine mind. I have heard tell he has even paved all the roads in his city with stones.”

  “Really? What of the rains? Surely there must be a place for the water to go?”

  “The peddler I talked to said there are ditches that take the water into deep wells. They use this water in times of drought for their fields and animals.”

  “The villages of the far plain had similar wells. They are not as blessed with water as we are.” Rakam added, “But wouldn’t the stones become very treacherous to walk upon in such times?”

  Mabetu said, “I would think so, but we will have to find out for ourselves. I know walking on stone in the mountains in the rain can be dangerous, and I can always feel it in the muscles and bones of my legs afterward when I sleep.”

  “And how do these pavements stay in place? With carts and animals and rain and people, I should think the stones would always be moving about.”

  “I do not know. These things are Pakali’s first love. He has fortified the stone wall his grandfather built during the last coming the MaShaitani, making towers and porticoes for defense.”

  “Amazing,” Rakam said. “It has been too long since we have gone there. I remember the wall and the way they used the swamplands for their farms; but if I had known they had stone streets, I would have come to see them, regardless of the hardships of the journey.”

  “Oh? You would have traveled all that way just to see stone streets? It wouldn’t be to visit with a certain young daughter of the King?”

  Blushing, Rakam said, “You’re not going to start that again, are you? You can pick on my bow if you would like or how about my dull wit?”

  “Show weakness and an adversary will exploit it.” Finishing the last of his meal, Mabetu drank deeply from the water skin. Swallowing, he said, “But that doesn’t still bother you, does it? You’re not a boy anymore.”

  “No, I suppose not. At the time it did. Following me around love sick like that, giving me those dreamy eyes. It was horrible.”

  “Many men would find value in having the King’s only daughter admire them in such a way.”

  “You have taught me not to value worldly things, that taking a wife for such a purpose is wrong.”

  “You will never regret marrying for love. That I know for certain. Every moment I spent with your great-grandmother is cherished in my heart.”

  “It seems you have many lessons for me this journey, but I shouldn’t have to worry about taking a wife for some time, not until this business has been settled.”

  “Oh, is that so? You think you can plan these things, do you? My dear boy, when the right woman comes along, it will be like a bolt of lightning, striking hard and without warning. It might even be the King’s daughter.”

  “Come on, she’s just a little girl.”

  “No, Rakam, you have been gone a long time and little girls have a habit of growing into young ladies.”

  “She probably doesn’t even remember me.”

  “Oh?” said Mabetu with interest.

  “And, if she does, she probably feels as embarrassed about the whole thing as I do. She is almost certainly betrothed, maybe even married. Some girls marry young.”

  “Don’t be so certain. She is a remarkable woman from what I hear.”

  “Oh? What else have you heard?”

  “That she saved her father from the katabo, and that since he denies her nothing has even made her the Champion of his guard.”

  “Princess Negara, Champion?” Rakam scoffed.

  “Yes, that is what I’ve heard. She is much admired, even by fighting men, for her skill in arms, her keen mind. It’s said she has hunted many katabo and knows a trick of killing them. Rumor says she has six knives, all made from the claw of a katabo that she herself has slain.”

  “Then she must have a score of suitors and will have nothing to do with humble Rakam as he returns from the wilds, without an ounce of treasure to show for it.”

  “Perhaps yes, perhaps no. She will undoubtedly make up her own mind.”

  “What would her father think?” Rakam asked, looking away, making the excuse of feeding a piece of meat to little Betu.

  Smiling privately, Mabetu said, “I don’t know his mind, but Pakali is a good man. Those around him can be warlike and greedy. They bring out the worst in him, but Pakali comes from a long line of valiant warriors. He is proud of that lineage and would do anything to strengthen it, but he struggles to emerge from the shadows of his famed ancestors. These men from history constantly beleaguer him. They drive him to do more and more, so he does not always make the wisest decisions.”

  “Should I fear him?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think Pakali always treated me well. I remember he used to carry me around on his back when the rains came, and he would play the part of a monster for all of us young ones to defeat in our hunting games.”

  “Then you have answered your own question. Behave honorably toward him, as you do in all the aspects of your life. That is as much as any of us can do.” Mabetu let out a sigh and climbed to his feet. “These men around him, however, be careful of them. They are full of deceptions.”

  “I will remember that.” Clicking his fingers, Rakam called Betu back to him from a nearby bush, under which there appeared to be some forgotten kill. The fetid corpse was ripe enough to be smelled at a distance, and he didn’t want the river dog to play in it like she was sometimes apt to do. It would just make her stink and draw every hungry mouth with a nose to the wind. “And what shall we tell him about my gift?”

  “What do you think is the truth of your gift?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m afraid to assume anything.”

  “You have been purified in the way of MaKasisi since the time of our fathers. Your soul is clean. There is no act, not of betrayal or treachery or murder that the Almighty cannot forgive. Have you turned to evil?”

  “No,” said Rakam immediately.

  “Then you must be patient, and let events unfold as they will.”

  “Yes, you are correct, thank you.” Rakam put Betu back into his satchel, kept some meat in his hand to eat along the way, and rose.

  Mabetu said, “Good, now we must get off the road. There is a thicket of trees some distance back from where we have come. We should hide there, and see what is coming toward us.”

  Surprised by the sudden revelation, straining to find this new danger, Rakam said, “What do you see? Where?”

  “Past that ridge I showed you the road turns across the side of the mountain. Some birds took flight, and I think I saw dust rise into the air.”

  Taking
Mabetu by the shoulder to more quickly guide them both to the thicket, Rakam said, “You think it may be MaShaitani?”

  “Perhaps MaShaitani or maybe the katabo. It’s not unheard of for them to awaken from their dens so early,” said Mabetu, quickening his step. “I saw something, in a vision, earlier, when we prayed at waking.”

  Stopping in his tracks, Rakam said, “Oh?”

  “No time for that now. Suffice it to say you’re not the only one who sees around a few corners.”

  Downcast, Rakam said, “You forget I no longer see around anything.”

  “Hush now, none of that,” Mabetu said, stumbling as the pace shortened his breath. “Tell me, how about your other abilities? Have they left you, as well?”

  “No, not exactly,” said Rakam slowly. “I can make fire about as well as ever, but then there is, well, something new, something that has taken the place of letting my mind travel upon the winds.”

  “Oh? What is this? Why have you not spoken of it before?”

  Turning away from the old man’s gaze, Rakam admitted, “I was ashamed. I thought perhaps the Jinn had taken my other strengths in trade and given me this new ability in return.”

  Mabetu lifted Rakam’s chin so they faced each other once again. He looked kindly into the young man’s eyes and said, “And, what is it you can do?”

  As if the thought of it carried weight, Rakam said, “I can destroy.”

  Mabetu was stunned. “Destroy? How?”

  Pointing at a nearby rock, one about the size of a man’s head, Rakam said, “Watch.” He stopped walking and fixed the rock in his gaze. There was a loud crack, and the rock split in half.

  “Bless me,” Mabetu said in a whisper. “And, when did this begin?”

  “Well, it started out being small, about the time I began recovering my strength from the serpent’s poison. I broke a few sticks when weak and in need. From that time it has grown steadily, whether I put it into practice. I have seen and heard of some being able to move things, but never have I heard tell of a gift like this.”

  “I have.”

  “Oh?”

  “Hurry now, we still have some distance to travel.” Mabetu wiped his sweating brow with the back of his hand. His breathing had become heavy and his footing unsure upon the even surface of the well-made road. “Timbo’s father had such a gift. He used it to free some children that had been caught in a rockslide. That is how Timbo earned his position at the Sacred Grove, for his father’s sake.”

  “Why did I never hear of it?”

  “Because he died young, and he had always kept the gift a secret. I knew, of course, but otherwise I think he was afraid of what people would think. The villagers loved him for saving their children, but he would have suffered their scorn, much like you have for your gift of True Sight. He told them it was a gift from the Almighty, come and gone to save the children, and never spoke of it again. And so, you see, his legend faded, but his life was untroubled.”

  “Can you make it the rest of the way? I could carry you,” Rakam offered as Mabetu stumbled. The old man would have gone sprawling if Rakam had not been quick to catch him.

  Mabetu steadied himself in Rakam’s arms and took a deep breath to settle his nerves. He turned back over his shoulder, looking down the road. “No,” he said finally, “I can make it. Let that be a lesson for you, my son. People might think you made a trade with the Jinn, so it is best that you keep this gift a secret, for now at the least.”

  “I will.” Rakam moved up behind his great-grandfather, taking him round the middle, nearly carrying him as he helped the old man along.

  “And then we should teach you how to exercise this gift. Tell me, does it take more strength to break bigger stones?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought as much.”

  “And it’s more difficult to make a clean break than to break a rock into pieces.”

  “You have made some headway on your own, then. Tell me, do you remember the boats the people of the lake used to make?”

  Remembering the village as he had last seen it, Rakam shuddered. He said, “Yes, they bundled reeds together.”

  “And, those boats are very strong, stronger than the boats the people of our village make from a single, great tree. Like a group of men, working together, the bundle of reeds can accomplish more than any single man can alone. That is what Timbo’s father was able to learn about his gift. He could break all the sticks of the bundle at once, though it was not as difficult for him to break a single branch of equal size.”

  “And, that will be important to me in using this new gift?”

  “Yes, I think so. When the rockslide fell, your uncle did not break one stone at a time, and neither did he break the large stones. He broke all the small ones, at once, in a way that was outward from the cave in which the children had found shelter.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “Neither am I, but it’s a place to start. Know that if an arrow pierces the heart of a bull, for all the strength that remains within him, the bull still dies. If a man fails to chew his food well, he may get it caught in his throat and die, though he has no wounds at all.”

  Coming to the thicket, Rakam said, “Let’s enter on the far side. I’ll take a branch and sweep away our tracks. If they can’t smell us, we should be well hidden.”

  “Yes, help me down. I’ve little strength left.”

  Taking Mabetu gently by the arm, Rakam guided him from the road. “Do you think it will ever come back, the True Sight?”

  “All in good time, my boy, all in good time. The Almighty has His Purpose.”

  They pushed their way deep into the thicket, comfortably ahead of the menace that approached. Rakam snapped off the branch of a bush and swept the path behind them as they went. They found a place downhill where there were some rocks, behind which they might find some protection from an enemy. As Mabetu rested, Rakam hastily piled up a few additional stones, making a sort of wall around them.

  When Mabetu warned the danger was near, Rakam bent a few of the lower branches in a way to help disguise them. Then, he readied his bow and stuck two arrows into the ground in front of him while Mabetu closed his eyes, silently chanting.

  The rolling hills in which they traveled were nothing compared to the towering peaks in which Rakam and Mabetu made their home. Rakam remembered shooting uphill as he waited, thinking of the adjustments that would have to be made in the gently blowing wind. He fixed his mind upon the road, trying to find his old strengths, trying to see beyond sight, but it was no use. What pursued them was as dark to him as the rest of the world had become. He would just have to wait and see.

  “Oh!” Mabetu suddenly exclaimed, rising, pushing back through the trees before Rakam had a chance to stop him. “They’ve come for us. These silly visions, I told you I was never any good at that sort of thing. I don’t think I’ve ever read one right. Rakam, what are you waiting for? Come on, it’s the Marsh King, he sent people to find us.”

  Grabbing up his arrows but keeping his bow ready, Rakam quickly lifted his bags to his shoulder and followed. Moments later, a small band of warriors appeared over the crest of the hill. They wore cloaks of reptile leather that shimmered and shifted in the light of the darkening world. Almost like magic the warriors seemed to appear and disappear as they passed through the shadows of the trees.

  Stiff shirts hung from their shoulders to halfway down the thigh, with what looked like strips of metal woven with a coarse thread. Some had wood plates strapped to their arms and legs while others, what looked to be the leaders of this band, wore armor of beautifully crafted metal. They each held a long spear that was tipped with a broad point of the finest metal Rakam had ever laid eyes upon, better yet than the stuff that had fallen from the very heavens to bless the arrows he carried.

  One of the warriors, smaller in stature than the others, called the assembly to a halt. Rakam could see the armor this warrior wore was adorned with gold and precious stones. The m
an moved with grace and elegance, coming toward them with all the determination of a wild bull despite his lack of size.

  “Well met, Negara, Princess of the Marsh Kingdom,” said Mabetu loudly.

  Rakam stared at the warrior he had assumed to be a man, realizing there could be no mistaking this was a woman. He gave Mabetu a quick look that told of his shock and surprise. The old man returned a wink and a smile in his mischievous way, reminding Rakam what he had said earlier about seeing around corners.

  “Greetings, my most honored great-grandfather,” the young woman replied, pulling down the hood of her cloak, her hair cascading in thick locks to her shoulders.

  Rakam was struck by how beautiful Negara had become. The gangly girl he had known had become a great beauty. She was tall for a woman and lean, muscular but not as a man was muscular. She had the grace of both a warrior and a dancer, at once menacing and beautiful. As he stared, he struggled to think of something to say to this woman, but he could do little more than gape.

  “And, is this my dear cousin, Rakam?” the Princess said in wonder.

  “The messengers that came to us from the Sacred Grove said you were traveling to us, but I would not have recognized you. You look like a rabbit caught in a rain.” Her men laughed. “Do they not eat in these wild places you have traveled?”

  As Rakam faltered, trying to find the art of his tongue, Mabetu replied, “He has returned to us much changed by the world.”

  “Yes, I can see that,” Negara said. “It used to be we could never get him to shut up. Look now, he cannot speak.” The warriors laughed heartily at the jest, as did Mabetu.

  Finding his voice at last, Rakam said in return, “And good to see you again, dear cousin, for we all know how words have never failed you.”

  The band of warriors went silent. One of two men in special adornments leveled his spear and came up behind the Princess, saying, “He dishonors you, my lady. Shall I teach him a lesson?”

  There was a long pause. The wind blew through the trees, rustling the leaves like the wings of birds. The light sand of the hill country blew into their faces. In the lengthening silence, the Princess held Rakam firmly in her gaze. But behind the scowl, Rakam thought he saw a hidden smile.