Anka was dragged into a tent far larger than the others, made from the granite-scaled hides of ganas. It was lit by several oil lamps, casting flickering shadows around the humble abode – there was little except for a simple straw sleeping mat, a pot of water, a stack of bronze-tipped arrows and what looked like a simple shrine with small figurines of lishas standing on a mat. Tied to the trunk holding the tent up was another girl, slim and pale with a mousey face. Her hazel hair was matted as though she hadn’t washed in days. She was idly swaying from side to side like a blade of wheat in the breeze.
The lisha tied Anka’s hands to the same trunk, so high up
that she was almost forced to stand on her toes. She had already been robbed of
the purple curtain she’d been using as a cape, all she had was a chest band and
loin cloth. The lisha leant down, almost touching her nose with his snout, his
eyes aflame with hunger. He was the one who had carried her to the camp - he
wore zig-zagging ochre face paint on his upper and lower jaws, as though he was
trying to convince the world that his teeth were actually unnaturally large. He
took a lungful of Anka’s aroma, licked his lips, then reluctantly left the
tent.
The other girl was beaming at Anka. Her intense gaze made
Anka somewhat uncomfortable, so she looked away.
“You’re from Kurush, aren’t you?”
Anka was surprised that a local could speak Oshuan, “Um,
yes”
“I knew it! What’s it like? Do you live in a house that
touches the sky? Does everyone live long, happy lives? Do you party every
night? Do you, maybe, let yourself get gobbled up every so often?”
“Kurush was destroyed,” Anka said matter-of-factly, “it’s
just a pile of burnt rubble now”
“Oh… Well, I guess we’ll just have to rebuild it then!”
“What the hell are you talking about? How can you be so
chipper when we’re about to be eaten?”
“You don’t know that”
Anka’s face turned red, “We’re tied up in the middle of a
camp full of hungry lishas, so I’m pretty fucking certain!”
“There’s no point being afraid of something until it
actually happens,” said the girl as though it was obvious, “you never know what
might happen before then”
“Like what?” said Anka, already exasperated by the
conversation
“I bet my friend Lysta is looking for me. Don’t you have
friends? They’re probably looking for you too. If something can still be done,
even if it might not work, then it’s too early to give up. You’ve just got to
hope and try and aim for the best. That’s the only way good things happen”
Anka looked at the ground. Are Oresh and the others looking
for me? Even if they are, could they find me in time? I’ve come so close to
being eaten so many times before, I’m almost used to being in this situation,
it’s hard not to think that it’s my fate. But what if that’s the wrong way of
looking at it? What if I should think about how many times I’ve been saved or
I’ve saved myself? Is the fact I’ve brushed with death and still survived a
good sign, a reason to hope?
A lisha swept into the tent. His scales were black and cracked,
like the bark of a tree that had withstood a forest fire. He must have been ancient,
and yet his head almost reached the ceiling of the towering tent. Like his
underlings, he wore almost nothing, baring his long-toned muscles and a dozen
deep scars. Sheathed at his side was the largest dagger Anka had ever seen, it
was almost as long as she was tall. He looked down at the hurums with austere
eyes.
He knelt down and inspected the girl, turning her this way
and that in his giant, weathered hands, making her squirm. But he grunted in
disappointment, and his eyes drifted to Anka. She started breathing rapidly. He
moved closer, wrapped his hands around her chest and slowly led his tongue up
her neck and over her cheek. She took his gravelly groan to mean that he liked
her taste. His eyes became aflame with hunger. He opened his maw, forcing Anka
to look at his jagged teeth, the strings of saliva between his jaws and the inescapable
darkness of his throat. This is it, she thought, I’m dinner.
But the lisha didn’t move. He was frozen, distracted by
something outside. He spun round and sprang out of the tent. It wasn’t long
before the two girls could hear urgent shouting.
“It’s Lysta! I told you she’d come”
More voices joined the fray, accompanied by the sound of
metal clashing against metal. Anka allowed herself to hope that the next person
to enter the tent would be Oresh, looking around bewilderedly, only to smile
his goofy smile once he saw her. But it wasn’t Oresh who came. The lisha who
had carried her in, with the toothy face paint, now splattered with fresh
blood, barrelled into the tent. He cut the rope tying Anka to the trunk with a
claw, heaved her up onto his shoulder and ran into the night. She kicked his
stomach as hard as she could, and despite her hands still being bound together
she beat his back with all her might, she writhed and elbowed him in the eye, but
he only tightened his grip.
“Oresh!” she screamed, “Oresh!”
He ran out of the fire and fighting of the camp, and into
the stillness of the scrubland. Out of the darkness, a spear whistled through
the air. Anka flew out of his grasp, and they both tumbled onto the rocky
ground. The spear was lodged in his heel. He roared in agony and was about to
pluck it out when another lisha emerged from the darkness – it was Oresh. He
grabbed the spear’s shaft and drove it deeper until it hit bone, making the
raider howl, then twisted it out of his flesh. Oresh stood over the lisha like
a fisher ready to lance his prey.
Seeing his hesitation, the raider turned over, scrambled
over the rocks and pounced at Anka. She could see the craving in his eyes, the desperation
to eat her if it was the last thing he did. But with a crack like splintering
wood Oresh’s spear pierced his nape and came out through his throat. The raider
lay frozen in the dust, gurgling blood.
Oresh stumbled backwards and fell on his tail. He stared,
his jaw dropped, at the gruesome sight of the spear sticking out of the lisha’s
neck. Anka could scarcely believe he had in him to do that either. But it was
over, she was safe. She ran and threw herself at Oresh, burying her face in his
chest.
“At this rate I’m going to lose count how many times you’ve
saved me”, she said through tears of relief
Oresh squeezed her tightly, “I’ll do it a thousand more
times if I have to. I can’t lose anyone else I love”
The sounds of combat in the camp died down, and the
surviving raiders scurried away, their shadows quivering against the starlit
sky. In the tranquillity of the night, Anka and Oresh simply sat in silence and
held each other.
Constructive criticism welcome
© Paul Bramhall
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