The heat of the day was still trapped in the stuffy lanes of the Rush, which were filled with young lishas and hurums eager to show off their newest outfits and shiniest jewellery to each other. But their boasts turned to whispers when Tiuk came marching down the street. They pressed themselves against the walls to move out of her way, as though she was a boulder rolling inexorably through the crowds. In one hand she used a long glaive, her weapon of choice, like a walking stick. In the other she carried her badge of office, a horned helmet with a resplendent sun-like crest, under her arm. Naturally she had her perfectly polished bronze armour and flowing magenta cape – even long-time subordinates struggled to remember the last time she had been seen wearing anything else. The scales around her steely eyes had dark green streaks which at first glance looked like the splattered blood of a recently defeated foe.
Tiuk pressed through the lanes until she reached the cramped
plaza in front of the Palace of the Ikark. Atop the mountainous Palace,
illuminated by torchlight, stood the statue of Kurush’s founder reaching up to
grasp the heavens. Waiting for Tiuk at the base of the grand staircase was her
deputy Etenkur.
“What’s this all about then?” she asked
“I have no idea”, he said as he turned to follow her up the
stairs
The smirk across his face persuaded Tiuk otherwise, but the
lisha wore that same smirk almost constantly, making it near impossible to tell
when he was lying, assuming he told the truth at least sometimes. The only
reason she had promoted him was Gilkush’s insistence, and now she couldn’t get
rid of him.
Inside the Palace, the sheer number of torches lighting the
passageways lined with golden murals celebrating Kurush’s historic rise to
greatness hurt Tiuk’s eyes. In the Hall of Accords, the Ikark was already sat
waiting. Each member of Kurush’s ruling council paid a fee of a hundred gold
ingots a year for the privilege. They were the five wealthiest individuals in
the world.
“Esteemed Ikarkurs, I received your summons and came with
all haste. How may I be of service?”
Gilkush leant forward. Every hour he would apply a lotion to
his scales that made them sparkle and shimmer in the light, as though he was
trying to trick everyone that he had descended from the stars to grace the
world with his presence.
“We have heard reports that you have commissioned smiths to
find a way to smelt iron,” he said, “is that true?”
Tiuk didn’t have to look round to know that Etenkur’s smirk
had grown wider. The snake must be having me followed, she thought.
“Yes, it’s true. I –“
Tadarur banged the arm of his throne with his fist. The old
lisha’s scales were dark, rugged and lumpy, like the skin of rotting fruit.
“This is unacceptable! This is an entirely unjustified use
of funds. We expect our money to be spent on soldiers, weapons and walls, not
on pointless experiments. Clearly we are paying you too much, if you have
enough to throw down the drain”
“Sir, as I have been reporting for many months now, attacks
by pirates are becoming more and more frequent. Fewer trading vessels are arriving
in our docks. This is primarily because the tribes of the nightward isles are
buying much more bronze than before. Our best chance of keeping Kurush safe and
competitive is if we can use iron – there’s enough on this island alone to make
a thousand spears, if not more. We would no longer have to rely on merchants
selling us copper and tin from far-flung lands for our security”
Tadarur scowled at her, “Ah yes, the nightward isles. The
world is populated by innumerable barbarian tribes that are led by warriors. I
pity those unfortunates who have no choice but to be ruled by violent brutes.
But Kurush is different. We have proved that there is a better way, that rule
by merchants creates peace and prosperity. There is nowhere in the world like
Kurush, and anyone scheming to snuff out that light and return to rule by
warriors clearly underestimates the resolve of those who defend it”
“Sir, with the Sun as my witness, I can assure you that I have
no ambitions of the sort. I am merely trying to fulfil my duty to protect
Kurush”
“Your duty is to protect us!” said Gilkush, “We
are the ones paying your salary”
Tiuk turned to Lurush, a lisha woman so rotund that her
tailored dress seemed close to bursting. She had been accused of being friends
with her before, although in reality they were allies at best. Tiuk begged her
to speak in her defence with her eyes, but Lurush fidgeted and avoided Tiuk’s
stare by pretending to be distracted by something on the ceiling.
Myra yawned loudly. Not only was she the only hurum in the
room, she was the only Ekuan. Despite her stature, she was the only Ikarkur
Tiuk was actually faintly scared of. Behind her narrow eyes was a ruthlessness
which made it easy for Tiuk to imagine that she would launch herself at her and
sink her teeth into her flesh if she had any reason to think that she’d taste
good.
“Can we just vote on this already?” said Myra, “If you
insist on arguing about this any longer, I’ll get myself a pillow”
“So be it,” said Tadarur, “all in favour of the Ushi Karsh
ceasing all attempts at smelting iron?”
Tadarur, Gilkush and Myra raised their hands. Rukur, an
Ikarkur who had fallen into debt and then, Tiuk suspected, into the pocket of
the criminal underworld, also raised his hand. Then, despite Tiuk’s relentless
glare, Lurush somewhat shakily raised her hand. Tiuk was not surprised – after
all, this was why she’d tried to hide this from them. All five of them had
stakes in the bronze trade, they were never going to approve something that
could dent their income.
“There we have it,” said Tadarur, “In the words of our
glorious founder, ‘The ground beneath our camp is as sturdy and precious as
bronze’. He never needed iron, and neither do we. That will be all”
Tiuk stormed out of the Hall, shooting a poisonous look at
Etenkur.
“Oh, Tiuk,” Gilkush called after her, “we’re all going to a
shindig at Alabaster Cove tomorrow, guard the Rush while we’re gone”
When she reached the outside, she paused to take in the view
of Kurush with its myriad flickering torches, and heard something flipping and
flopping behind her. It was Lurush waddling towards her with a pained
expression.
“What is it, Lurush?”
“I’m sorry,” she said as she caught her breath, “I’m so
sorry. But if bronze became obsolete…”
“Then you’d have slightly less gold than you have now. What
a tragedy that would be”
“We’ll find another way of defending Kurush”, said Lurush
“But it has to be a way that doesn’t cost any money or risk
the fortunes of the Ikark. Should we ask the sea to swallow up all the pirates?”
“I suppose it couldn’t hurt…”
“I was joking, Lurush! Lives are at stake, we can’t just
leave this to chance. I thought you were the one Ikarkur who actually cared about
the lishas and hurums of Kurush. Obviously I was wrong”
Tiuk descended the staircase and marched back through the
Rush alone.
Constructive criticism welcome
© Paul Bramhall
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