Shades of Azmattia

by Slawomir Rapala

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part 2 of 5

The Tha-kian dashed forward roaring like a wounded animal. Aezubah parried the savage strike and at the same time delivered a hard blow with his fist to the Tha-kian’s midsection. The man groaned painfully, dropped his guard for a moment and swooped forward, but at the same time Aezubah raised his tested Surathian sword and brought it back down as quick as thought and just as hard.

The hot steel tore into the man’s skull and easily cut through bone and flesh all the way down to the base of the Tha-kian’s neck. The horribly maimed body sank to its knees and then dropped into the sand, staining it crimson red in the light of the scorching sun.

Aezubah remained motionless over the corpse for a moment longer, gazing into the dead man’s features as if enjoying the sight of carnage. His frozen eyes mirrored no feelings. A moment later, however, he sank to the ground himself, exhausted.

A cry of warning reached him just then, so he turned quickly and in the very last moment he managed to parry a lethal blow delivered by the Tha-kian he had knocked off his horse. Somehow the man had survived Aezubah’s powerful spear-drive and the crushing fall and crawled to the place of the battle.

Had it not been for the girl’s warning cry, the Tha-kian would have delivered a mortal blow to the General’s head. Although Aezubah blocked it, there was such power behind it that the Tha-kian blade slid off his sword and connected nevertheless, leaving a deep gash in his thigh. Aezubah growled painfully and swung his weapon.

He missed, and the blade slipped from his suddenly numb fingers, leaving him not only injured, but also unarmed. Pinned to the ground by the weight of the man’s body, Aezubah saw the gasping Tha-kian frantically searching for a knife. He tried to throw him off in desperation, but the man was too heavy and too hungry for revenge.

Just as the Tha-kian clutched his knife with a triumphant grin, his body suddenly stiffened and a painful groan escaped his pale lips. His eyes turned inside out and he rolled off Aezubah. A long dagger was sticking out of the back of his neck.

The girl who had delivered the lethal blow gasped when she saw the Tha-kian’s pain-stricken face, twisted features and glassy eyes, as if realizing only now what she had done. She staggered back and then sank to her knees. Her body was taken over by violent shudders and she clasped her hands over her mouth, trying to stop the waves of nausea.

When Aezubah managed to stumble up to his feet, the girl was still down on her knees, still too weak to rise. She stared at the mutilated corpses surrounding her. Aezubah hobbled over to where his sword lay, picked it up and leaned on it. Blood trickled down his leg from the gash in his thigh and stained the sand red.

“You all right?” he asked the girl. “Did they harm you?”

The Nekryan girl lifted her eyes at him and her stare was full of awe and bewilderment. She brushed the fair hair away from her pretty face, but that motion caused the strap holding her torn dress in place to slip off her shoulder, uncovering her shapely breasts. She blushed and quickly pulled on the cloth.

“You’re all right, then?”

The girl nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“But for you I’d be lying there on the ground along the rest of them,” Aezubah said with a shrug. “So don’t mention it; we’re even.”

He wiped the sword against his leather britches, and then slid to the ground again. The blood continued to run down his thigh and the wound was beginning to hurt more than ever.

“Let me see that,” the girl said.

“It’s nothing,” Aezubah waved her off with a stern stare.

“You don’t have to play hero anymore. You saved my life, remember? Let me see what I can do about your leg.” She crouched beside him and examined the deep gash. “It’s just a scratch,” she smiled.

He watched in silence as she tore a long piece of cloth from one of the Tha-kian’s scant loincloths and skilfully stopped the flow of blood. Then she cleaned the wound with water taken from one of the Tha-kian’s supplies, before finally dressing it with the help of another piece of cloth.

When she finished, she crouched again by Aezubah’s side, glancing at him from time to time. They sat in silence for a moment, each resting and each deep in their own thoughts, before the girl finally asked, “Who are you?”

“My name is Aezubah.” The General saw no reason to keep his name secret in the desert. “I’m coming down from Oyan.”

“I’ve heard of you.”

“Who hasn’t?” The warrior’s voice turned bitter.

“You’re a long way from home,” she said after a while.

“Where is home?” he shrugged.

“Wherever you want it to be,” she smiled.

He looked at her with interest. She could not have been a commoner’s daughter.

“What brought you out here?” she asked.

Aezubah did not respond. The girl nodded in understanding and laughed. Despite the earlier brush with death she was quickly regaining composure. Though he did not show it, the aging General listened to her youthful laughter with great pleasure.

“I know much about you anyway,” she said. “You are the traveller who has seen both the misty swamps of Yitia and the snowcaps of the Northern Kingdoms, made pacts with men and beasts, crossed the ocean hundreds of times, travelled blinding ice fields full of raging blizzards and the scorching Wastelands of southern deserts.

“You are the General who killed the Wizard Yagdish and the tyrant Harish, and brought peace to Estrata, but at the price of being banished by the new king whom you yourself placed on the throne.

“You are the rogue who is held responsible by the King of Nekrya, my King, for his wife’s death.

“You are the chosen warrior who travelled to the Roof of the World with eleven companions and who slew the lizard of frost.

“You are the bati who led the Arynosian Vikings to victory over a Sorcerer, slaying him with your own hand.

“You are the man who escaped Biyackian dungeons and, in your search for vengeance, turned the city of Reele into a pile of ash along with its thousands of inhabitants.

“You are the one who led ten thousand Lyonese highlanders to victory over the Vikings at Knoss...

“Am I getting it right?”

“Most of it,” Aezubah’s face remained perfectly still and expressionless.

“You are also the man who saved my life.”

She told him about herself in a few short words. Her name was Livia. Some time ago Tha-kian slave traders took her from a town on the border of Nekrya and Estrata where she was visiting relatives. The town was burned, most of the people butchered, some taken into slavery.

Livia was taken down the Trail of Death along with others. The girl had managed to escape and wandered the desert for a whole day, but the pursuit caught up with her. Aezubah saved her from a horrible and humiliating death.

“What about you then?” she asked again. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m looking for a city,” Aezubah saw no reason to lie. Things were simple in the desert.

“A city out here?” she asked with disbelief.

“Remnants of it, at any rate,” the General added. “And a treasure hidden by King Naluu thousands of years ago.”

“King Naluu’s treasure?” she asked, her voice drifting off.

“You know of it?”

“Of course,” her beautiful eyes now burnt with great intensity. “I was born here, and I grew up listening to stories of Naluu and other heroic Azmattians. The treasure of Naluu... If you find it, you will become rich, far richer than your wildest imagination could conceive. Provided, of course, you defeat the three creatures bound by Naluu’s magic and forced to guard his wealth forever. The bird, a creature of darkness, the lion, a creature of fire, and the snake, a creature of the Underworld.”

Aezubah shrugged his shoulders in contempt. “I’ve seen many creatures in my travels,” he said. “Many kings and wizards wish me dead. I believe in the strength of my sword, and with its help I can kill anybody or anything out in this wasteland.”

“Don’t be brash, General. Whoever you are and whatever you have seen, these creatures are immortal. They cannot be killed.”

“An end is the fate of all things,” Aezubah replied. “I have seen many.”

“Besides,” the girl did not seem to hear him, “many men ventured out here looking for the treasure, and not one of them has ever returned. Their bones are hidden in these sands and will not be uncovered; not for ages to come, perhaps never.”

A hoarse screech sounded above them. Aezubah looked up to see vultures circling the sky high over the heads.

“They smell blood,” the girl whispered.

The General shook his head and laughed to hide the unpleasant feeling that had come over him a moment ago. An ancient fear, perhaps. “I’m not afraid of anything so long as I have a blade at my side,” he scowled.

Livia looked at him closely but said nothing more.

Shadows of the night slowly crept into the lifeless desert and the sun was reluctantly sinking beneath the horizon. The short-lived Southern night soon followed. The silver face of the moon appeared on the dark sky and hung low over the hot, exhausted earth. A little gust blew over the desert.

“We have to move,” Aezubah said as he looked at the sky. Motioning towards the corpses, he added, “Before their comrades show up.”

He rose to his feet with some difficulty and, limping slightly, he walked over to his horse. Livia followed him.

“You’d best catch one of their horses,” Aezubah told her. “They have plenty of supplies. The Tha-kians came prepared for the hardships of the desert. You should find all you need to get you as far as Oyan. You’ll manage from there.”

The girl sprang forward and easily climbed onto one of the small Tha-kian ponies. Scantly dressed, with long wind-blown hair, barefoot amidst the blood and the death, amidst the motionless and frozen bodies, the painfully twisted and gutted corpses of men, she seemed a beautiful goddess, bloodthirsty and terrible.

“Who says I’m going to Oyan?” she asked, riding up to Aezubah.

“That’s the nearest city. You know that.” The General struggled to climb into the saddle. “You can get home from there,” he added.

“I have no home to go to.” She leaned over and held out her hand. Aezubah hesitated but then grasped it. With the girl’s help he finally managed to settle himself on his horse. “Suit yourself,” he shrugged, “but there’s nowhere else to go.”

“I can come with you,” it was more of a question than a statement.

“I’m going into the desert.” He looked at her keenly. “I don’t know when I’m going to come across another town or village, or even if I will ever see one again. Going out there with me is close to suicide.”

“The mighty General,” she scoffed.

Aezubah hesitated again, then turned his horse and looked at Livia. “And you’re not afraid?”

“Of what?”

“Of the desert,” he said. “Of the ghosts and the bandits, the slave traders and the demons, the beasts guarding the treasure; Naluu’s magic? You’re not afraid of me?”

Livia laughed heartily. A heavy flood of golden, shimmering hair covered her bare back. “No,” she shook her head. “Most people either hate or fear you, Aezubah. I do neither, though I’m not sure why. What of the things of the desert? It might be interesting to see them.”

Aezubah said nothing, weighing her words in his mind.

“Besides, you’re hurt. You can’t venture out there all by yourself with that wound in your leg. You need me.”

“Suit yourself then,” the General conceded. He smacked his lips and urged the horse into a trot. Livia followed him closely, smiling quietly to herself. They rode shoulder to shoulder for a moment, but soon they hastened their horses, heading into the southernmost parts of the kingdom of Bandikoy.

To be continued...