Byzantium Infected Box Set

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Byzantium Infected Box Set Page 13

by James Mullins


  Nasir and Maarika searched what was left of the bodies and the foot lockers. They took anything of value including coins, jewelry, and polished stones. Their efforts yielded around ten gold solidus and fifty silver nummi. In addition, Nasir found a pair of silver earrings in one of the footlockers.

  He showed his find to Maarika, “Can you wear these?”

  “What are they?”

  “Earrings. You’ve never seen them before?”

  “No, we had almost no metal in the desert. A man was considered wealthy if he had more than one or two implements made of iron.”

  She took the earrings from him and turned them over several times with a confused look on her face, “You wear these on your ears?”

  “Aye, you do. Let me help.” Nasir took the earrings from Maarika’s hands and brushed her long raven colored locks away from her ears. Her perfectly smooth unblemished ear lobes were revealed. He laughed at his foolishness, “I guess if you don’t even know what an earring is that the odds of your ears being pierced are pretty damn low. I’m such a fool.”

  Maarika reached up and clasped the hand touching her left earlobe and squeezed it, “You can’t help yourself. You’re a man after all.”

  Nasir chuckled and replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “Indeed woman. It’s a good thing you came along when you did. I must be blessed by God and the Angels above to have survived as long as I have without you.”

  He drew her into an embrace, and their lips met. After a long tender moment the two parted and Maarika asked, “Now what do we do?”

  “The road to Aqaba is a dry one. We must search the fort for waterskins and fill them. As many as we can carry.”

  Careful not to separate, the two systematically picked their way through the fort. They found dozens of waterskins amongst the dead and piled them up by the well. Completing their search, they worked to fill them all as the sun sank toward the western horizon.

  “Shall we set out now or on the ‘morrow?”

  Nasir pondered the question for a moment. He looked around at the chaotic scene within the fort. As he did so, the sounds of thick clouds of flies droned in his ears, and the stench from bodies rotting in the August Sun overpowered his senses, “Let’s follow the Aqaba road as far as we are able into the night. We must make haste to Aqaba to arrive ahead of the hungry.”

  Maarika smiled with relief, “Bismillah be praised! I did not want to spend another moment in this horrid place.”

  The two set off northward following the Roman Road to Aqaba. The terrain consisted of parched, hard earth with a thin layer of sand atop it. Rocks of all shapes and sizes dotted the landscape as far as the eye could see. Most were of a brownish color a few were gray. The August Sun combined with their heavy load made walking an arduous affair.

  As they walked, Nasir turned to Maarika and asked, “Tell me about your life before the hungry came.”

  Maarika smiled at the interest being shown her, “We led a difficult life trying to scratch a living out of the barren wastes of Arabia. At least that is what my father told me they were called. I didn’t think our home was barren. If one stopped to look, one could see that even the deep desert teemed with life. From the lizards and mice darting about trying to score a morsel without becoming a meal themselves to the lazy snakes lying on rocks to take in the Sun life abounded.”

  Nasir smiled, “Aye, so many of the Romans only see a harsh dead place when they look at our home. Though they work tirelessly to control all that they see, they never take the time to actually see it.”

  Maarika snorted, “You’re priests don’t agree on how to worship your God and the owners of the land look but don’t see it? What kind of crazy world do you live in?”

  Nasir laughed, “You always seem to gaze right through the bullshit and see what matters.” Maarika nodded in agreement and joined in his laughter. He then asked, “What was your tribe called? Maybe I’ve met other members before.”

  “We were of the Judam tribe. It is said that we sprang from a warrior of some ruler named David. The legend passed down to me from my ancestors say that the warrior was unhappy with King David’s dishonorable behavior so he set off from the fabled land of milk and honey looking for a new home.”

  Nasir interjected, “King David from the Bible?”

  “I know not for sure I have no knowledge of this Bible you speak of. Is that the name of a tale passed down to you from your ancestors?”

  “In a way, long ago God spoke to many men, and they wrote down his words.”

  “Like those strange symbols on the tablets at the fort?”

  “Aye, that’s writing. It enables a person to share words with someone that comes later.”

  “What a marvel that is! To be able to speak to someone after you’ve gone. Even in death?”

  “Aye, even in death. We have buildings four times the size of the fort we saw today filled with scrolls with the knowledge of those who came before.”

  Maarika smirked with a twinkle in her eye, “If the word of God is written down, how is it that your priests can’t agree on what it says?”

  “How indeed! Woman you have a mind like a lizard trap!”

  Maarika smiled at the compliment and took his hand in hers as they walked. She fell into deep thought trying to digest what she had just learned. As she did so, Nasir rolled the name of Maarika’s tribe around in his mind Judam. That sounds an awful lot like Judah. Maarika is descended from the Israelites in the Bible! Nasir then shared his thoughts aloud, “I think I know from whence the warrior that created your tribe came.”

  “Please share!”

  “David of Judah was a Sheppard boy that defeated the champion of his people’s enemy the Philistines. This immense warrior was known by the name Goliath, for his colossal size. This seemingly simple Sheppard boy struck down Goliath with a single sling bullet. Years later he became King and began construction on the First Temple of God. It would make sense that it is the same King David. Afterall Judam sounds very similar to Judah.”

  “Where is this land of Judah you speak of?” Maarika asked.

  “From here?” She nodded in response, “About a week’s hard ride to the north.” Nasir let go of her hand and flexed it to get the blood flowing again. He then smiled and put his arm through hers. They continued to walk arm in arm, “How large was your tribe?”

  “Our tribe consisted of several clans headed by a warrior. Each family controlled a vital interest in the tribe. My family raised goats and turned their milk into cheese. Others raised sheep and camels. We traded the fruits of our labors between the clans so that everyone’s needs were met.”

  “What was your function?”

  “When I was younger I was responsible for milking the goats. Later when my gift with the sling was discovered, I tended to the herd as they searched around for something to eat with my brothers.”

  The conversation continued for several hours as they traveled for many more miles. Two hours after sunset they made camp by simply dropping their supplies on the parched earth and laying out a blanket. They ate and then snuggled under the starlight as the temperature plummeted. The snuggling led to more, and for a time they were warm indeed, as they drifted off into the tender embrace of slumber.

  As Nasir slumbered, he felt a slight itch on his nose. He scratched the itch and instantly fell back asleep. He started to dream again but felt an overwhelming itch that screamed to be scratched. This time it was his cheek. He rubbed the spot with his hand and rolled over onto his stomach to shield his face. With Maarika’s warm body pressed up against his, combined with the sound of her rhythmic breathing, it wasn’t long before he slept again.

  Falling into a deep sleep, he dreamed of Maarika. He re-lived several of their intimate moments and experienced some new ones that his mind created. As his manhood stirred from the images swirling in his mind, the infernal itch returned. This time it was tickling his calf. Enraged from yet another interruption, he opened his eyes and rolled over.

 
The eastern horizon was a dull red in color. Nasir inwardly cursed that the time to rest was nearly at an end. There was a light breeze causing some of the sand particles to be cast aloft. Many of them had landed on himself and Maarika’s slumbering form. The itch was coming from the grains. This could mean only one thing, Sitting upright he exclaimed, “God help us!” Maarika stirred, groaned, and fell back asleep.

  Nasir scanned the horizon looking for the telltale sign that his fear was fully justified. With the land still shrouded in darkness, it was hard to tell. After several minutes of searching, he saw it. The spot was off to the south in the direction of the deep desert, darkness within darkness, “Sandstorm!” he yelled.

  Maarika instantly sprang from her slumber fully awake at the dreaded words, “What, where?”

  Nasir pointed to the growing splotch on the southern horizon, “There.” As they watched, the light from the rising sun touched it. There could be no doubt. A brown mass was roiling in their direction growing larger by the second.

  “We must find shelter!” Maarika said frantically.

  They both looked 360 degrees around them. They saw nothing but flat, parched earth surrounding them, “Let’s gather our water and run. Perhaps we can find a boulder to shelter behind before the storm is upon us.” Nasir said.

  The two grabbed their supplies and began running northward. The weight of Nasir’s armor, shield, weapons, and water slowed his pace considerably. As the pair ran, they both glanced back over their shoulder from time to time to check the advance of the storm. Though their pace was slow, the storm seemed to virtually stand still.

  “Maarika, run on ahead and find shelter.”

  “No, we mus’ant get separated. We will never find each other again.”

  “I’ll be fine in my armor, but you’re unprotected.”

  “But-“

  “Listen to me girl! Keep to the road. Surely there will be a boulder or cliff face sooner or later. Go!”

  Maarika nodded numbly and ran as fast as she could. As she ran, she stole several glances back at Nasir. He had stopped moving altogether. He faded from view, and she focused on running. One foot in front of the other. Seems so easy when you’re thinking about it. The desert conspired to draw the moisture out of her body as she ran. The dry air, ever a vampire, continued to sucking the moisture out of her body. This insidious process began to slow her pace.

  Ignoring her burning lungs and parched throat she continued to run. The storm drew closer and closer, and she couldn’t ignore her dry throat any longer. She stopped and drank deeply from one of her waterskins. As the extreme anguish of overwhelming thirst receded, she felt a sense of ecstasy.

  Maarika dropped the dry skin and began running again. Slowly the rising sun was shrouded in a swirling brown blanket as it wrapped her up in its scouring embrace. Unable to breathe the particles in without coughing she slowed her pace and placed her arm over her mouth. The storm howled all around her. Must go on! The strong winds pressed down upon her, and it became difficult to remain standing.

  She was forced to squint her eyes as the particles of sand collected on the surface of her eyelids. Remembering a hard lesson from when she was a little girl, she resisted the urge to rub her eyes as she did not want to damage them. Closing her eyes altogether, she continued to stumble forward in total darkness. Bismillah, I beg thee, give me shelter!

  Maarika was suddenly hit with a powerful gust of wind. The sudden blast caused her to stumble. She struggled to move forward as the storm’s fury pressed down upon her. The weight of the wind made her small frame feel as if she were many times her actual weight. The lithe muscles toned to move around a body of one hundred pounds quickly tired under the merciless onslaught. Giving up, she laid down on the ground and curled herself into a ball. She tried to protect as much of her body as she could against the grains being hurled against her. Bismillah, please.

  The storm raged as she laid on the ground. Despite her best efforts to protect her face, grains of sands found their way into her nose, eyes, and even her mouth. The presence of the grains of sand on her tongue registered as a heavy earthy taste. As the grains dissolved onto her increasingly dry tongue, her thirst grew. Coherent thought dropped away as her existence became stinging grains and a powerful thirst.

  As Maarika began to despair of surviving the seemingly endless assault, she felt the wind ease just a bit. Am I imagining this? The roaring howl seemed to slowly decrease in volume as the fury of the storm ebbed. No, I’m not, the storm is nearing an end!

  She took one of the water skins that she had held onto and poured the contents into her mouth. The flow of tepid water washed away the grains of sand caked to the insides of her cheeks. Next, she poured what remained of the water in the skin onto her eyes. She was careful not to open them as the grains were rinsed away. Satisfied that most of the sand was gone, she finally opened her eyes.

  Despite her efforts to clean them, sand was still clouding her vision. As she blinked her eyes to clear them, she spied a figure running toward her, “Nasir! Thank Bismillah that you survived.” Without stopping the figure lunged at her. Stunned she didn’t react as the man struck her chest with his shoulder and knocked the wind out of her. She landed on the ground with an, “Opffh!” As the air left her lungs.

  Fetid and foul breath that smelled of rotting meat washed over her nostrils, and she stifled the urge to wretch. The hungry one tore at her robes seeking soft flesh to consume. Maarika tried to push the nightmare away with her arms. The effort exposed her throat, and the inhuman spawn of Satan pushed forward to bite it.

  She stopped it just short of her throat with her left arm. The thing’s teeth rapidly clicked together as it imagined the taste of her sweet and succulent flesh in its mouth. With her other arm, she punched it in the side of the head trying to distract it. The effort proved fruitless as the hungry one tried to live up to its name and feed relentlessly. I’m going to die!

  With strength born of desperation and fueled by adrenaline Maarika held the undead at bay with her left elbow in the crook of the hungry one’s neck. This effort kept the clicking teeth just shy of tasting her flesh. With her right hand she searched around on the ground for her dagger. Her fingers touched upon something cool and round to the touch. A stone! Grasping the divine gift she struck the foul creature on the side of the head.

  The blow stunned the hungry one. The pressure on Maarika’s left arm disappeared and she pushed the rotting yet very lively corpse off of her. As she sprang to her feet, the wretched thing came to its senses and sat up. She planted a kick to its face. Rotting flesh and bone gave way and the hungry one’s skull snapped loose from its torso. The head went sailing through the air.

  The snarling visage landed right side up in the sand several feet away from Maarika. Seperated from its body, the head howled in frustration. The head’s teeth continued to click together instinctively as it was overpowered by the smell of Maarika’s living flesh nearby. She looked around for her dagger. The storm’s intensity increased and her visibility plummeted.

  Frustrated at her loss of the dagger she picked up a large stone with both hands. The weight of the immense rock caused her arm muscles to scream in protest. Ignoring the pain, she slowly shuffled over to the still angry and animated head. Using every fiber of strength that her slender body possessed, she brought the rock down on the head smashing it.

  Maarika didn’t have a moment to enjoy her triumph as she is immediately tackled from behind. Looking back in the direction of her feet, she sees the arms of another hungry one wrapped around her legs. A moment before the horror’s teeth sinks into her fleshy calf, she delivers a kick to its face.

  He’s huge! Maarika thought to herself as she rolled over and pulled her legs free from the grasping monstrosity. Using both of her feet simultaneously, she then delivers a crushing kick to the immense hungry one’s face. Purple ichor, flesh, cartilage, and bone go flying from the mighty blow. The undead horror collapses to the ground stunned.

 
Leaping to her feet, Maarika grabs the filth encrusted rock nearby and brings it down on the head of the stunned creature. Once again the heavy rock smashes through bone and brain matter sending the beast permanently to hell.

  Exhausted, Maarika stumbled back to the spot of the initial attack. Shifting the sands around with her hands, she locates her missing dagger and waterskins. She placed the water skins over her left shoulder, and keept the blade in her right hand.

  A hand grabbed her shoulder from behind, Bastards! I’m getting tired of this. As if surviving the sandstorm wasn’t hard enough! Furious, Maarika spins around and stabs the attacker with her dagger. Simultaneously she drops the water skins and pushes the man away. Yanking the blade out of her assailant, she’s stunned to see red blood and realizes her mistake, “Nasir!”

  As Maarika’s eyes widen, Nasir sinks to his knees and grabs the wound in his torso. He looks up at Maarika and croaks out the word, “Why?” Before collapsing to the sand unconscious.

  Chapter 10

  Evening of August 3rd 636 Damascus, Syria Province, Byzantium

  Recollections

  Athos arrived back at the barracks and quickly stripped off his filthy clothes. He then changed into the festive green shirt he had purchased and the doeskin pants he had fashioned himself. The young Armenian paused for a moment and remembered the hunt in the mountainous forest that surrounded the valley in which he grew up. He smiled, this one was a happy memory and not the final tragic hunt that resulted in Kristophor’s death.

  He let his mind slip back to that hunt. Much like that tragic day, he had set himself up in a tree above an animal trail before dawn. The trail had bits of deer dung along it. Bored and nodding off, the faint sounds of leaves crinkling brought him instantly awake, Finally.

  Athos, not realizing he was holding his breath, let out a gasp as the doe emerged from the morning fog. Whew, I thought she may have heard me, but she doesn’t seem to know I’m here. The doe continued up the path until she paused right under him to nibble on a bush. This is it. Athos tried to move his arms, but they had gone numb. Don’t panic now you can do this. His muscles, sore from sitting for so long, refused to respond.

 

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