Oresh and some of the other refugees had spent most of the afternoon fishing in the shallows of the cove using spears they had whittled out of tree branches. They had caught plenty, but none were bigger than a hurum’s hand – hardly enough to fill everyone’s bellies. The hurums, as though by instinct, clustered together on the beach. The sky was growing dark, the Sun painting gold and violet streaks on the firmament as it sank behind the mountains.
He found sitting pensively by the bottom of the cliff-side
path Pilesh, the blind old lisha who used to dictate his mind-numbing poems to
Oresh. He had two fish left, he gave one to Pilesh and they enjoyed their
meagre meal together.
“Ah, I’m so lucky to be here, to live long enough to see the
end of hierarchy”, said Pilesh with a blissful smile
“Please tell me you’re being sarcastic…”
“I’m serious. Kurush was corrupt, miserable and doomed. It
should never have been built in the first place. We should be celebrating,
let’s dance the night away!”
Oresh felt his blood starting to simmer, “Did you somehow
miss the fires, the riots, all of the hurums who spent their last moments in a
lisha’s stomach? Thousands are dead Pilesh, thousands!”
Pilesh nodded sagely, “Yes it’s very sad, we should have
dismantled Kurush in a more orderly manner, but it seems that wasn’t possible.
Don’t dwell on the past boy, we’ve got a bright future ahead of us. We’ve
returned to the state the Sun created us in. We can finally live in peace and
harmony”
Oresh couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He wanted hope
more than anyone, but having seen Askura try and fail to beg for her life, his
mother’s blood-soaked corpse, his home aflame, and now stranded and destitute in
a foreign land – where could he find hope? Did it only exist in the fantasies
of an old man? He didn’t have the wherewithal to argue with Pilesh, so he
slouched back and dozed in silence.
His eyes shot open when he heard someone running. It was
Gamoz, scampering down the cliff path. Oresh’s heart suddenly twisted painfully
– he was alone. Gamoz came to a stop once he reached them and doubled over,
gasping for air.
“Where’s Anka?” said Oresh
“Raiders… took…”
Bukur rushed over, glaive in hand, with Lurush waddling in
tow.
“What happened?” said Bukur
“Dusk raiders took Anka,” said Gamoz, “and killed Goresh”
Lurush’s eyes widened, “You’re wrong. Goresh isn’t dead. You
don’t know how tough he is”
They heard heavy footsteps above them. A hapa was jumping
down the cliff path, slipping on the rocks but being urged on by the lisha on
its back. Bukur raised his glaive, and they came to a halt.
“Tents, tents, ah… camp! I know where!” the lisha woman said
in broken Oshuan, “Come fight please!”
“What?” said Bukur
The woman had golden scales and a spear of her own, “They
have your friend and my friend. Come come, please please!”
“Let’s go”, said Oresh without thinking
“Wait a minute,” said Lurush, “we can’t afford to make
enemies of the locals. Let’s talk with them”
“These raiders have Anka,” said Bukur, “we need to get her
back”
Lurush sighed, “I know you don’t want to hear this, but
she’s probably already been eaten. Don’t jeopardise our survival by recklessly
attacking-“
“There’s no time to waste!” said Bukur as he started towards
the cliff path
“I am the only Ikarkur here,” said Lurush, “you will obey my
command!”
“What does ‘Ikarkur’ mean anymore?” said Oresh
Before Lurush could think of a reply, everyone’s attention
turned upwards. Atop the cliffs, there was a rustling among the trees and the
sound of brash laughter. Lishas armed with spears and bows emerged from the
shadows, looking down upon the cove and the encircled refugees.
“What’s happening?” asked Pilesh, “Have the locals come to
welcome us?”
Lurush cleared her throat, “Fine inhabitants of Parua! We
have found ourselves stranded in your beautiful land, would you do us the
honour of letting us stay a while?”
"No, they're raiders!" said Gamoz panically
An arrow whistled through the air, which Lurush dodged by jumping
inelegantly out of its way. Instead the arrow struck Pilesh in the chest - he
cried out in shock and crumpled onto the ground. More arrows started raining
down, and people ran for cover, but Oresh ran to Pilesh and knelt beside the
poet.
“W-what do I do?” said Oresh frantically, “Do I pull it
out?”
“I don’t understand,” Pilesh murmured, “I don’t understand…”
His face froze, his glassy eyes staring up to the inky sky.
Oresh simply watched, powerless to help as the life drained from his mentor’s
body, until an arrow striking the sand near his hand brought him back to the
situation. He saw Bukur and the hapa-riding woman charging up the cliff-path.
Oresh and some others followed them, hoping that they were agile enough to
evade the arrows as they scrambled up the jagged rockface.
In the shadowy pine forest, Bukur was a whirlwind of bronze,
slashing and slicing all of the lishas rushing from the right, while the hapa
danced in circles as the woman pierced and impaled all of the lishas loping
from the left. Oresh immediately regretted dashing into this chaos. The streams
of blood flying through the air, the sight of flesh being ripped and torn made
his stomach turn. A voice in his head was yelling at him that he didn’t belong
there, that he had to run and hide somewhere safe. But it was already too late,
a spear-wielding lisha already had him in his sights and was hurtling towards
him.
However the hapa tripped over the assailant with its tail,
sending him falling flat onto his face. His spear rolled to Oresh’s feet, who
picked it up, infusing him with a burning need to do something for once. He
stepped on the lisha’s chest before he could get up and pointed the spearhead
between his eyes. Then he noticed that the lisha’s scales were the exact same
shade of leaf-green as his – he must have been the same age, maybe even
younger. He clenched his eyes shut, bracing himself for death. The spear
trembled in Oresh’s hands.
Oresh looked up. The lishas the woman had been fighting were
now either bleeding and groaning on the forest floor or fleeing, and the woman
herself was riding into the night, her hapa bounding at full gallop. She’s
headed for their camp, Oresh realised, to Anka. He stepped off his young
assailant and ran after her, the spear still in his hands.
Constructive criticism welcome
© Paul Bramhall
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