“The day of reckoning is upon us! Today we must take what is ours!”
The abandoned warehouse in the Ekuan quarter was packed with
lishas jostling and roaring as Kyroz enflamed their souls. Only Hastoz was calm
as he eyed Kyroz whilst leaning on the wall. They all had the cross and diamond
in black oil on their foreheads.
“Last night, the Sun gave me a radical idea. I call it
‘slavery’. All hurums shall become property, we shall buy and sell and do with
them as we please, just like any other animal. Just think, tomorrow you will
own your own hurums! Imagine that freedom! It is ours by right, go now and
seize it! Tear down this weak, corrupt, hurum-loving regime, and take your
rightful place at Kurush’s pinnacle!”
Tiles fell from the already half-collapsed roof and a cloud
of dust rose from the ground as the seething sea of lishas stomped and beat
their chests. A hundred starving predators, their eyes wild and roars
anguished, piled out of the warehouse.
Kyroz took Staroz aside, “Thank you lad for getting the word
out”
“We can do this! I know we can”
“Yes, yes, absolutely. But if the hurums pull some dastardly
trick on us, come find me in Parua. One way or another, we’ll set things right”
Staroz nodded, “I will”
“Right, I need to go back up to the Rush. Fight like a noble
savage”
“You’re going to the Rush? Now?”
“There’s something I need to attend to,” said Kyroz, “Something
I’ve wanted for the longest time”
***
Tiuk was striding up the hill so purposefully Bukur was
struggling to keep up with his mother. She had her helmet under one arm, her
long glaive in the other, her magenta cape flowing behind her.
“Shouldn’t we just sound the horn?” said Bukur, “Etenkur
would order reinforcements to the outer wall”
“I need to explain the situation to the Ikark, they’ll come
to some moronic conclusion otherwise. And the last thing we need is to be
fighting amongst ourselves. I need you in top form today. Use your head, follow
my orders, and by the Sun don’t die”
“Yes ma’am”
As they crossed the square in front of the Rush, they
spotted Kyroz in his black toga ahead of them, slinking through the gate. The
two guards had strange black symbols on their foreheads. As soon as they saw
Tiuk, they slipped inside and closed the heavy wooden doors behind them.
“I am the Ushi Karsh, you imbeciles!” Tiuk roared, “I will
pull out one of your teeth for each minute you keep me waiting!”
“Tiuk!”
Standing atop the wall, between the two heads of the
gigantic stone lizards, was Gilkush and Etenkur.
“I’m sorry you had to find out this way,” said Gilkush, “but
you have been relieved of your duties. Etenkur is now the Ushi Karsh. Although
your loyalty was lacking, you will always be remembered as a tenacious and-“
“I don’t have time for your games, Gilkush. A host of
pirates is preparing to attack. Let me in. Now”
“This is necessary for the survival of Kurush. Your sympathy
for hurums has been sapping our strength. We need someone committed to
rebuilding the rightful order to lead our soldiers. Etenkur understands that
lishas built Kurush, not hurums”
“Enough of this nonsense, let me in!”
Gilkush turned to Etenkur, “What do you think, Ushi Karsh?”
Etenkur smirked, “I don’t think so”
“Since the founding of Kurush, each new Ushi Karsh has only
been given the title upon the death of their predecessor,” said Tiuk, “Do you
want to be the one who breaks that tradition, Etenkur? Do you believe your
soldiers will follow a man too cowardly to face the one he would usurp?”
His smirk collapsed into a grimace. When he turned to go,
Gilkush took hold of his arm and hissed something in his ear. But he wrested
his arm from his grasp and walked out of view, leaving Gilkush to curse to
himself.
Moments later, the gate opened and Etenkur walked out with a
glaive in his hand and steely determination in his eyes. He had the same
strange symbol, a cross over a diamond, on his forehead. Tiuk donned her bronze
helmet, which had a sharp horn above each eye and shining sun-like crest.
Etenkur doused the blade of his glaive with oil, then dragged it along the
dusty ground until a spark lit it. Bukur stood watching from the edge of a
crowd that had gathered in the square, giving the two lishas more than enough
space. An empty silence that was out-of-place in the heart of Kurush descended
upon the square as they eyed each other with their hands gripping their
weapons.
Tiuk lunged forward and thrusted her glaive, but he darted
out of its way. The bronze blade whistled as it sliced the air as she swung it
in wide arcs again and again, but again and again he hopped out of reach. Tiuk
was not surprised – she was the larger and the older of the two, he was banking
on his agility and stamina. But he is a fool indeed if he thinks he can
outsmart me, she thought, he never learnt that there’s more to strategy than
licking the sandals of the right people. She barely plodded a few steps as he
circled around her like a shark patiently waiting for the right time.
“What the hell is this dance routine?” said Tiuk, “Fight me,
you traitor!”
This irked him enough to make him stop in his tracks, then
charge forwards. She swung her glaive, but he ducked whilst keeping his
momentum. She dodged his strike at her legs, but now he was behind her, and
before she could turn to face him she felt his flaming blade slice her tail.
The searing heat of the wound quickly rose, she roared like an enraged beast.
Half her tail spasmed pointlessly on the ground, the blood filling the air with
the acrid smell of metal.
The pain and the sight of Etenkur smirking as he had never
smirked before made Tiuk bristle with resolve. I cannot let them win, she
thought, I cannot spend my last moments wondering how sadistic a tyranny they
will inflict on Kurush. Rooted to the spot, pointing her glaive towards him,
she braced herself for Etenkur’s attack.
He took some steps back before rushing at her, launching
himself into the air, his flaming blade screeching towards the final blow. But
Tiuk caught the blade between her helmet’s horns, careening against the bronze,
whilst her own blade skimmed up the shaft of his glaive and severed his
fingers. Etenkur had no time to reel back before she spun down and swung her
glaive at his feet, slicing his ankle’s tendons. He fell back and collapsed
onto the ground, his glaive clattering beside him. Tiuk stood over him and
lowered her blade between his jaws.
“Mow, leez!” he spluttered, his eyes begging for forgiveness
A quiet voice at the back of Tiuk’s head told her that level-headedness
was the path out of this crisis, but it was drowned out by the fury she felt at
this scheming traitor, this sycophantic fool, this self-serving bastard who
would kill her for her title. To tolerate this snake for a second longer was
unthinkable. She pushed down, and with a crack that echoed around the square her
blade hit the ground. The top half of his head rolled away, leaving his throat
open in a perpetual silent scream.
She looked up at Gilkush atop the wall, whose face was twisted
with rage. He growled an order before walking away. A troop of archers took
their positions and pulled back their bows. Tiuk heaved Etenkur’s limp body up
and used it as a shield as arrows rained down upon her. The crowd of spectators
ran in terror, leaving Bukur frozen in shock.
“Get reinforcements from the outer wall!” Tiuk barked at her
son as she backed away holding up the half-headed corpse of her former deputy,
“Now!”
Glaive in hand, Bukur turned and ran.
Constructive criticism welcome
© Paul Bramhall
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