The landscape of the savannah was magnificent in its simplicity. There were no trees, bushes or even hills to be seen. The only thing that grew on the wide, flat plains was the six foot high savannah grass that rippled as gentle zephyrs ran across the warm land.
A league from where the steep slopes of the Mahatmahog Mountains met the tall, tan grasses of the plains, a village could be seen. This was Sela’s home, Nuadu, which in the old tongue of the plains meant walking place. The village was entirely built on stilts carved from timbers brought in from forests to the south-east. The buildings that sat on the broad platforms the stilts supported had been woven from the tan grasses, but so intricate and sound was their construction that they outlasted many buildings built with more conventional materials.
The most remarkable aspect to the village was the fact that the stilts upon which the collection of platforms rested were not fixed into the ground. Through a complicated system of cogs, levers and weights, the stilts could be manipulated so that the village could actually be walked across the plains. In the centre of each platform lay a steering tower where a Tamuan would stand and operate the mechanism that moved the stilts.
There was a good reason why the village had this form of mobility. The savannah was a dangerous place and it was perilous for Tamuans to venture far from the village in a search for food, water or any of the other resources their society required.
Death roamed the savannah in the form of shakku, the fifteen foot long predators of the plains. The shakku were shaped like a fish, but instead of swimming through water, they roamed the grassy sea that covered Tamu. The savannah grass was so thick that the shakku could swim through it by swishing its powerful tail from side to side. The creature had a high dorsal fin that it could raise or lower depending on its need for speed or stealth. The front of a shakku resembled the head of a mallet. Cold, grey eyes were situated at either end of the wide, rectangular head giving the savage beast 360° of vision. In between these eyes the shakku’s mouth resembled a cluttered knife drawer. Its acuate teeth stuck out at all angles, ready to tear apart the flesh of its prey. Although the shakku’s golden skin effectively camouflaged it in the sun-soaked grasses it roamed, when in a heightened emotional state, the shakku’s pigmentation altered, shifting to hues of orange and red. This bold display meant little to the shakku’s victims who were usually only made aware of the beast’s presence at the moment its jaws wrapped around their flesh.
The shakku were cunning, often hunting in packs. These coordinated attacks were as sophisticated as they were savage. Occasionally, the beasts attacked the village, battering the thick stilts with their heads.
This was not to say the Tamuans were defenceless against these fearsome predators, but the nature of their defence was considered by many to be almost as brutal as the attacks they were meant to stop. The Tamuans learnt long ago that a shakku would not eat flesh that was already bleeding. They would not even eat another shakku’s kill. This led to the defensive tactic the Tamuans knew as the bleeding. In the event of shakku attack, bells would be sounded across the platforms as a signal to commence the bleeding. No-one was exempt, not even children.
Sela landed on a ledge twenty feet below and without hesitation jumped from it to another below it. Her descent down the mountain seemed suicidal, but killing herself was the last thing on her mind. Her every thought was bent towards getting home as quickly as possible. Despite the gathering darkness, she pushed on down the slope, leaving behind the more secure path for a route that was more direct. All Sela’s vertigo vanished as she ran, rolled and fell down the mountain’s slopes. Jehenna managed to keep up, but Bormanus and Lilith soon fell behind.
Sela was cut and bruised but somehow she had survived her headlong sprint down the mountain. The sound of bells could still be heard across the savannah when the morning sun touched the plain. The tintinnabulation was beautiful. It would have brought a smile to Jehenna’s face had she not been so perplexed by Sela’s manic behaviour. The Tamuan ran as fast as the thick grasses would permit, with no concern for her own safety. She knew the shakku were near – the bells told her as much – but she ran on ignoring the danger. If they were alerted to her presence, they would come down on her like rain.
Though the grasses were much taller than she was, Sela could see her home through the thick yellow stalks. Something was definitely wrong. The southern corner of the raised town was bizarrely tilted towards the ground. One of the pylons that supported the massive village had been brought down, its splintered remains revealing that it had been chewed through by shakku. When Sela and Jehenna arrived, the crazed beasts were tearing at two pylons on the far side of the town.
The frenzied attack upon the structure granted Sela and Jehenna the opportunity to approach the village without being attacked. Sela clambered up onto the platform which sloped away from her like a great wooden hill. Closely followed by Jehenna, Sela made her way to the centre of the village where she stood surrounded by her kin and kind.
The village was one of the sorriest sights Jehenna had even seen. A number of Tamuan men, also masked like Sela, stood with bloody knives in the centre of the lop-sided town square. These men were dripping with blood, but not from any wounds the shakku had made. They had subjected themselves to the bleeding. Deep incisions had been made to their chest, arms and legs. At their feet, a line of children sat cowering underneath the dripping knives their fathers held. Behind their masks, the children’s eyes were wide with fear. It was clear to Jehenna it was not the shakku that had instilled this fear – it was the practice of the bleeding. None of the children showed any signs of having been cut at that point, but the continual ringing of the bells suggested it would not be long before they were subjected to the most disturbing acts of protection seen in the Myr.
To the side of the square lay a number of corpses. Though Jehenna could not tell from the condition of the bodies, they were all women who had tried to fend off the first assault of the shakku. The defence of Nuadu fell to the women of the tribe who were the warriors and hunters of the small community.
Sela’s eyes frantically searched the gathering for her husband. ‘Where is Tomu?’ she cried. ‘Where is my husband?’
‘I am here,’ came a deep, sad voice from behind. Sela spun around to find her deepest fears had been realised. Her husband stood on the village square cradling a small, dark body in his arms. The masked child was still except for the slight rise and fall of his body. His limbs were caked in dry blood and the tunic covering his torso was also stained red.
‘Oh Tomu, did you…?’ The pain in Sela’s voice made Jehenna shiver.
‘I’m sorry Sela,’ Tomu replied, his voice similarly wrenched by pain. ‘I did as I was required. Seba had to go first.’
Sela ripped Seba from her husband’s arms. She clutched her son’s bloody body in against her chest so tightly, he gave a little yelp. She looked around for the women of the tribe. There were none to be seen in the square. ‘Tomu, where is Kaniya? Mosi? Abeni and Monifa?’
Her husband shook his head. ‘All dead. There are no women left.’
Sela staggered back. Her friends, her sisters, her mother – dead. Every nightmare she had ever had coalesced into one. Her head swirled and if it were not for Jehenna’s firm hand upon her elbow, she would have fallen to the floor.
‘Sela, your son needs attention,’ said a kindly old voice to her left. She turned to find Lilith’s aged face crinkled in an expression of concern and sorrow. Beside her stood Bormanus, his expression unreadable. Despite the fact, he had just run across the savannah with Lilith in his arms, he looked as fresh as ever. Jehenna raised an eyebrow, surprised that the two of them had arrived at Nuadu so soon after she and Sela had.
‘Let me tend to this child,’ Lilith said gently.
Sela tilted her head quizzically. ‘Do you have the power to heal him?’
‘No. I was never in possession of such a gift. It does not matter anyway – I fear my magick has left me now. I am just an old woman who wants to help you.’
Lilith placed a withered hand upon Seba’s forehead. Despite the savage cuts across his body, he smiled when she touched him. It was all the encouragement Sela needed to hand him over to her. She stood frozen to the spot as she watched Lilith disappear into a nearby hut to treat her child, followed by the broken figure of her husband.
Jehenna looked down at her companion. She looked so small and helpless. ‘I’m so sorry,’ the Acoran said with great sincerity. ‘I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am.’
Sela nodded ever so slightly. ‘It was not his fault,’ she said, her voice little more than a whisper. ‘He had to do it. He had no choice.’
Jehenna looked over at the other men of the tribe, standing above their own children with knives drawn. ‘What will happen to them?’
‘They must follow Tomu’s example.’
‘Why have they… why did… why did your child go first?’ She struggled to articulate her question. The bloody act of cutting children was so abhorrent to her, she found it difficult to discuss. ‘There is an order they must follow.’
‘An order?’
‘Yes – for the bleeding. The children of the village leaders must be bled first. You of all people Jehenna must know the sacrifices of leadership.’
Jehenna twisted around and to see one of the Tamuan men trying to lead his daughter to a small dais that was drenched in blood. The Acoran leapt forward and tore the child from his grasp. ‘Stay your hand!’ she commanded.
A collective gasp went around the tribe followed by angered whispers that only ceased when Sela raised her hand. A moment later, all was silent. Sela stepped in front of Jehenna and spoke to her people. ‘You must forgive the Acoran for her actions. It is the way of her people to assume their ways are correct.’
Jehenna moved to speak but stopped herself before the thoughts that ran through her mind were given form.
Sela decided she would intervene. ‘My people! I ask you give us a moment to appraise the situation before continuing with the bleeding,’ It was a bold request and it would have been disputed had someone else made it. But Sela Noye was the Consul of Tamu. Her words carried weight.
The men sheathed their knives as Sela led Jehenna away from the village square.
They were surrounded. Jehenna looked out into the grass sea and saw little more than the gnashing of teeth. Countless shakku chomped furiously at the remaining wooden pylons. Clouds of splinters flew out across the savannah as the ferocious creatures single-mindedly set about bringing the village of Nuadu to the ground.
Sela looked over the railing lining one corner of the village. Below her the shakku had almost bitten through half the pylon. ‘Jehenna,’ she called to her companion further down the railing, ‘we don’t have much time.’
She was right. The shakku would not take long before they finished the job they had started. In minutes, the village and all who dwelt within it would fall prey to the savannah’s deadliest predator.
‘They have no choice,’ Jehenna thought sombrely. ‘They will have to cut their flesh. We all will.’ She cast a look at the Tamuans assembled on the lopsided platform behind them. So many children. So many innocent people.
To her left she saw Bormanus. His face was fixed in concentration. He had hardly moved since the shakku had renewed their attack. Jehenna assumed he was frozen by fear. ‘Nowhere to hide now Bormanus,’ she sneered, hoping for a reaction but expecting none.
He slowly lifted his head and stared coldly at her. ‘Do I really deserve that Jehenna? You should save your scorn for your enemies.’
‘I’m not sure you’re not one of them.’
He stepped forward. His eyes displayed an intensity of emotion she had not seen since she had met him. Something resembling anger flickered in his pupils. ‘Tell the Tamuans to stay their hands,’ he said in voice devoid of inflection. ‘There will be no more self-mutilation today.’
He drew a rapier from an ornate, leather scabbard by his waist. He had worn the weapon since they had left Cessair but as far as Jehenna knew, had never brandished it. ‘It seems I will have to go to great lengths to prove myself to you and your cold heart, Jehenna Canna.’
With that he placed one hand on the railing and leapt over it, disappearing in the thick grasses below. He screamed loudly, not in pain but in defiance.
At once the shakku were alerted to his presence. The savage biting at the pylons ceased and the shakku spun around and moved in on Bormanus. They swam through the savannah grass with such swiftness that they were upon him in seconds. Jehenna was reminded of the praga and the feeding frenzies she had witnessed back in Acoran. She and Simeon would sometimes stand on one of the many bridges spanning the Naiyeni River outside Griflet and throw pieces of raw meat into the water just to watch the praga swarm over the morsels with a ferocity rarely seen.
The shakku leapt over one another to get at Bormanus, their swishing tails and snapping jaws little more than a blur. Hundreds of the savage animals descended upon him and Jehenna could hardly bring herself to watch.
However, if she had been surprised by Bormanus’ seemingly suicidal display of heroics, she was absolutely shocked by what occurred next.
A spray of blood shot out of the deep grasses followed by another and another. Jehenna would have concluded that the blood was Bormanus’ were it not vivid orange in colour. She could see the flash of his rapier amongst the bloody carnage. Jehenna had never seen a blade wielded in such a way. He swung and thrust it so quickly it was a blur but there was no mistaking its effect. Orange blood continued to fly up occasionally punctuated by a severed head or fin. The grasses around Bormanus were gradually flattened under the weight of dead shakku that piled up around the slightly-built Cephalonian.
The shakku continued to come. Their frenzy was such that they ignored the sight of the rest of their pack lying in pieces around the defiant Myrran. They continued to attack in thick waves but Bormanus fought on, undeterred by their weight of their numbers or the viciousness of their onslaught. Jehenna had never seen anyone move so quickly and gracefully. He seemed to be moving outside the laws of physics, unbound by time or entropy. Though he was covered in the viscera of the shakku he had sliced up, he was beautiful to watch. Not a single movement was wasted.
Then, as swiftly as it had started, the carnage ended. The last of the shakku swam over the bodies of its kin and fell beneath Bormanus’ blade.
Jehenna gazed down incredulously at the scene before her. Further up the railing Sela was similarly staring at the blood-stained savannah in awe. Hundreds of shakku lay under a blanket of orange blood. Mounds of the foul creatures lay all around, their large, dull eyes staring up stupidly at the sky above. Most had died with their mouths wide open. Sela found the display of pointed teeth fixed in ravenous smiles to be as disturbing as it was satisfying.
In the middle of all this sat Bormanus, casually cleaning his blade. He looked up at Jehenna nonchalantly and asked, ‘Will you trust me now?’
Jehenna was too stunned to reply. Bormanus kept her within his gaze, his face once more a mask, concealing whatever emotion lay beneath.
Despite the urgency of their mission, Jehenna, Bormanus, Lilith and Sela spent the following week in Nuadu. Jehenna could not hasten them away from the place. Sela needed to deal with the loss of so many of her tribe. She also had her son to care for. Jehenna said nothing of the mission to kill Caliban and gave no indication that she was in a hurry to leave. It was the least she could do.
The time in the village did much to heal the bodies and minds of the remaining members of the company. Lilith especially benefitted from the long, languid days under the Tamuan sun. She looked younger by the day and it had nothing to do with Morgai magick.
Jehenna spent much of her time helping the men replacing the pylon the shakku had destroyed. She also ventured out into the savannah with Sela hunting for food for the tribe. Although they said little on these expeditions, it was clear to both that a bond had been forged between them.
Bormanus typically kept to himself. He neither wanted to discuss his show of heroics nor did he want to respond to the gratitude extended to him by the Tamuans. Whenever he walked past, the men of Nuadu would fall silent in awe. They revered him which bothered Jehenna for some inexplicable reason. She had no choice but to trust him after his breathtaking defeat of the shakku, but she still felt uneasy around him
Jehenna and Lilith stood looking out over the savannah. From their vantage point on the northern edge of the village, they could see for many leagues. Jehenna was struck by how different it was to her own country. She felt a long way from home.
‘Lilith, I have failed miserably.’
‘We’re still in this with a chance, sweet girl,’ Lilith replied with a grin. ‘I have faith in you.’
Jehenna stood above her, the glaive poised above Lilith’s chest. It caught the sun on its golden surface and for a moment Lilith was blinded by the light.
‘I don’t think I can do it.’
‘Jehenna, you don’t have a choice.’
‘But look how I have faltered every step of the way. Kali – killed within a week of starting the mission. Tawhawki – left to drown at sea. Rama – abandoned to the Endless.’
‘These are not things you could have controlled.’
‘I even involved my brother in it. That was my choice. I chose to go to Griflet. I chose to seek his help…’
‘And he chose to help you.’
‘Little good it did him, or us. We are nowhere nearer to completing the mission that we were on the day we started and he,’ – her voice shook a little – ‘now lies five fathoms deep.’
‘Do not give up now. It is your responsibility to get this company to Cephalonia and from there into the Endless.’
‘But Cephalonia is so far away. I’m not sure we can make it now.’
‘Perhaps I can help!’ Sela said, stepping out of the doorway with a smile on her face. It was the first time Jehenna or Lilith had seen her without her mask on. Her face was unusual when compared to theirs, but just as pretty in her own way. Long eye lashes fluttered self-consciously above large, child-like black eyes. Under these doleful orbs, a short fur-covered snout twitched above thick, white teeth. The light fur of her snout deepened to a rich tan colour around her cheeks, thickening as it radiated from the centre of her face until it merged with the dark brown bristles that lay around the fringes.
‘Sela!’ exclaimed Jehenna as she rose to face the Tamuan.
Underneath her light coat of fur, Sela blushed. Few Myrrans had ever seen a Tamuan’s face. Sela’s sense of vulnerability weakened the grip her smile had on her face. ‘What is it?’ she said nervously, edging away from the Acoran.
Jehenna giggled uncharacteristically and slowly placed out a hand on Sela’s face. She delicately lifted Sela’s chin so that the two of them were looking into each other’s eyes. ‘You’re smiling!’
The tension ran out of Sela’s body. She had expected a derisive comment, or at least ridicule, but Jehenna’s eyes only contained affection.
‘My little one,’ Sela said in a rush of happiness, ‘he’s alright. Thanks to you, Morgai.’
Lilith nodded modestly. Jehenna continued to stare curiously at Sela who subsequently frowned. Jehenna’s gaze was making her feel uncomfortable. ‘Please don’t stare like that,’ she muttered.
Jehenna looked away at once. ‘I’m sorry, Sela. I have never seen a Tamuan’s true face.’
‘I think you have to spend many weeks with a Tamuan before you see her true face,’ said Lilith enigmatically.
A look of puzzlement crossed Sela’s brow and then one of understanding. ‘You were being metaphoric weren’t you?’
‘Yes,’ Lilith replied. ‘I was.’
Jehenna and Sela sat with their legs swinging over the edge of the verandah and picked at a bunch of honeygrapes. ‘You’re sure you’re ready to leave?’
‘Yes. I am.’
‘But there are no more women to defend the men. What if the Ghul come?’
‘It is true, the Ghul could come. Or the Cabal. Or more shakku. Or the fierce Sedomo tribes of the north. Jehenna, I can’t worry about these things, not whilst Caliban still lives. We have a mission to complete. Besides, I think it’s time the men of this village learnt how to fight.’
Jehenna picked a grape and tossed it in her mouth. Her tongue was drenched in the fruit’s sweet taste. She savoured the sensation. It would be a long time before she could enjoy such a luxury. ‘We still have a long way to go.’
‘Perhaps not as long as you think,’ Sela said mysteriously.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I can get us to Amasis within a day or two.’
‘But it’s over 180 leagues to the north. Even if we ran…’
‘What is it you say, Jehenna? There is always a way.’
Sela stood up and cupped her small hands around her mouth. A strange cry exploded through her lips, a long guttural noise. She took a deep breath and repeated the call. Her expectant eyes scanned the savannah grasses for a response.
Jehenna heard the creatures long before she saw them lumbering into view. They answered Sela’s call with a similarly deep and mournful bellow. At first Jehenna only heard a couple of responses, but soon the air was thick with low, resonant cries as a herd of gorgomites came into view.
They were extraordinary looking creatures. They were massive, much larger than any land animal Jehenna had ever seen. The gorgomites shuffled across the savannah, crushing the grass as they shambled along on stubby legs that were dwarfed by the rest their slug-like bodies. Jehenna thought they resembled sacks of grain. Lacking eyes, ears and noses, the creatures were grotesque when compared to most Myrran animals. Their mouths consisted of an orifice hidden under fat lips that looked more like a claw.
‘Our transportation awaits,’ Sela said proudly.
‘Sela, have one more night with your husband and child,’ Jehenna said. ‘We will leave for Amasis in the morning.’
Despite all that had happened and the desperate days ahead, Jehenna actually felt contented sitting on the back of a gorgomite as it lumbered along steadily. High up on its broad back she felt safe for the first time in weeks. The Tamuans had replenished the squad’s stores and fed them well before their departure. With a full belly, Jehenna leant back on her elbows and took in the surrounding landscape.
She had travelled through many lands and rarely had taken the time to open her eyes to appreciate her surroundings. The sun was high and the sky was the deepest blue she had ever seen. A number of thick, round clouds ambled by overhead, the shadows of which glided over the wind-blown savannah grass like happy ghosts. The grass seemed alive as it rippled and shook in the warm breeze. Out on the savannah everything seemed so pure and clear. Even the clouds above looked as if they had been carved out of white marble. They did not change their voluminous shape as they roved across the sky and Jehenna was reminded of the flocks of fat shelp she had seen on her last visit to Nessa.
To the east, the white caps of rolling surf pounded the golden beaches lining the Tamuan coast. The blue and white of the sea was interspersed by the brilliant red of the palm trees lining the foreshore. These distinctive red-leafed trees ran for hundreds of leagues up the coastline like a fence that served no purpose. Above the bright crowns of the palms Jehenna could make out the shapes of thousands of gillygulls flying about manically, chasing each other with such playfulness, they made the bright world around them seem sombre and dull.
On the northern horizon, much darker clouds had gathered like a gang, loitering in the distance, threatening to change the mood of the day. The space between the flat bottom of these clouds and the shadowy plains beneath was streaked with soft, grey, horizontal lines of rain. Occasionally, a streak of lightning flashed, but it was so far away it was no more than filigree on the sky.
‘It’s beautiful, Lilith.’
‘What is?’ Lilith said absently, distracted by a shatterbug that had alighted on her sleeve. Feeling the heat of the day, the delicate crystalline creature swept its wings back and forth in an attempt to keep its tiny body cool.
‘The world. It’s a beautiful world.’
The Morgai smiled wistfully remembering a similar comment from years before.
‘It’s such a beautiful world, Morgai. I’d hate to lose it.’
‘You’re not the only one who thinks so Jehenna.’
‘I’m only beginning to understand what it is we’re fighting for.’
She lay back with her head in her hands and closed her eyes, lulled into a sleepiness by the heat of the day and the lumbering rhythm of the gorgomite. Her body felt heavy and it wasn’t long before her drowsy mind started drifting along with the clouds.
Under the secretive veil of her eyelids, a face appeared – a man, but not her husband. She knew his face well. He rarely smiled but there was a warmth to him that his gruff, exterior couldn’t hide. Even the long scar running down the left-hand side of his face was not enough to disguise the essential goodness that lay within.
Ordinarily, Jehenna would have thrust the image away, discarding the wayward dream like an unwanted gift, but the day was warm and she was tired, so she relaxed and let her mind escort her down untrodden paths where thought and sleep became entwined and all worries faded away.
