jalaughlin
New Member
Something I have been working on.
This is the second story in a series I started earlier this year. The first book ended up being 134,000 words. I have to warn you, these stories have some graphic violence.
Sparse Hunting
Kibwe and Imani stood on the edge of the desert, looking over the green valley of the Nile. Dawn was breaking before them and they watched the sun paint the valley in its splendorous colors. Below them and a good run east lay the village that the pair called home. Sanaa was watching Chausiku while the pair hunted in the night. The couple held hands and looked into each others eyes as they stepped off the sixty foot cliff. They kept their eyes locked and hands together as they dropped to the ground and landed easily in the patch of long grass among the strewn rubble that littered the foot of the bluff. Sunlight washed the face of the bluff above them in delicate oranges and yellows as the two started the run for the village. The grassy landscape was dotted with copses of trees as the two blurred along at a tremendous speed. The fastest cheetah on the plains would not have been able to keep pace with them even for a short distance. They slowed as they approached the village and scanned with eyes, ears and noses. Even though Khalemrho was dead, they had let many of his men live and there was always a possibility that someone would decide that the west bank of the Nile needed a leader that could unite all of the villages and control the people.
“Good morning Kibwe, Imani! How was the hunting last night?” Turuk called as they entered the edge of the village. He was washing his clothing and is eating stones at the stream that ran along the south side of the village.
“Sparse.” Kibwe called back with a smile. They had found only eight goats in the desert and so had each only fed off of one.
“Wrong time of year for goats.” Turuk called back, shaking his head and smiling. “Might try some crocs or hippos down by the river though, it is a good time for them.” Kibwe nodded and called back before the tents blocked his view of Turuk, “Maybe tomorrow night.” Imani smiled up at her man and squeezed his hand.
They made it to Sanaa and Sefu’s tent without anyone else intercepting them and stepped inside. Chausiku and Kamaria were playing on the floor with bones, sticks and rocks while Sanaa and Sefu were sewing leather pieces together to make clothes for the children.
“How was the hunt?” Sefu asked without looking up from his sewing.
“Not very good. I think the goats have gotten wise to our hunting area.” Kibwe answered as he squatted and extended his arms to his daughter. She grabbed his hands and he lifted her to his shoulder where she could see from his perspective. She wrapped her little fingers into his thick hair and looked at her mother who was smiling at her.
“Sanaa and I will try further north tonight while you two baby sit.” Sefu grinned at Kibwe. Kibwe nodded in agreement and looked at his sister. It was hard to believe that raucous woman was a mother. He wondered weather it would mellow her out or not. Sanaa looked up at his contemplative face.
“What?” She asked. It seemed to her that he was seeing into her deepest soul.
“Nothing, sister. Just wondering if being a mother will calm you down or not.” Kibwe smiled at her. She shook her head with a mirthful grin and went back to finishing the clothes she sewed on.
“Bandits!” A woman’s voice called from the north east edge of the village. The tent was suddenly empty with just the sound of rushing air and the tent flap slowly falling back into place.
Fifteen hungry, adult vampires ran for the north east edge of the village of tents. Already they could smell the spilled blood of their friends and neighbors. In the grassy field were eight hairy men that wielded heavy clubs with deadly efficiency! There were four dead grain gatherers further out in the fields and the women were running for the safety of the tents! Kibwe stopped in front of a very surprised woman and handed Chausiku to her and nearby Sanaa did the same with Kamaria. The brother and sister quickly rejoined the others in the dash for the raiding invaders. They were not Neanderthal, but were nearly as large. Their stringy black hair and pale skins were filthy and the heavy brows hid their dark eyes deep in their faces. The raiders never knew what hit them. Kibwe slammed into the lead man with a force that would shatter stone and latched onto the side of his greasy neck with deadly sharp teeth. He felt his venom inject into the man’s flesh and felt the broken bones of that greasy body collapse in his grip. He drank quickly, knowing that in just moments the man’s heart would stop pumping and the blood would be harder to get to. Each of the other raiders were shared by two Vim-Pyr. In seconds the raiding party was exterminated, though the toll on the village was far too high. Kibwe lost himself in the satisfaction of human blood filing his belly. He indulged the sensation of it flowing through him and warming his entire body. Then it was done. There was none left to drink. He dropped the lifeless body into the sea of waving grass. It hit the earth with an unceremonious thump and sprawled in an unnatural way, the broken bones lending it a flexibility it never had in life. He looked around to find the others and noted all of their locations.
Kibwe and Imani walked back to the village hand in hand. They were met at the edge of the tents by Ashmael, who held a spear that he had not had to use.
“Once again, we owe you for our safety, Kibwe. If you had not been here the raiders would have taken many more lives before we could have stopped them.” Ashmael spoke evenly.
“If we had been watching there would have been no deaths to sadden our village. It will not happen again.” Kibwe answered. One dead villager was too many for his conscience. Four men lay dead in the fields. Ashmael let Kibwe and Imani walk past him, looking for their child. Chausiku was safe in the arms of the woman Kibwe had handed her to. He had no fears of leaving his child with any of the villagers, he trusted them implicitly.
“Thank you.” He said as he took his daughter from the woman’s arms. The family walked back to their tent.
At dusk Sefu and Sanaa dropped Kamaria off to Kibwe and Imani so they could go hunting.
“Since you’re going north, keep an eye out for more of those raiders.” Kibwe instructed the couple.
“Absolutely.” Sefu replied with a grin. The hunters left as the two children began to play together. Kibwe and Imani watched the children play until the return of Sefu and Sanaa at dawn.
Preparations
Akam-Ra sat on his throne as the sun broke the eastern horizon. His eyes were heavy from lack of sleep. Surrounded by guards, the king of the East Bank pondered how to make his men ready for the challenges they would face. As he thought a strange woman approached. She walked between the guards who stood frozen and approached Akam-Ra’s throne.
“Who are you, woman, that you approach my throne unbidden?” Akam-Ra asked forcefully.
“Bow your head, mortal. You are in the presence of Nebet-Het!” The woman’s voice echoed through the tent village. Against his will, Akam-Ra’s head tilted foreword. “I come with consultation for you, Akam-Ra. The course you are on will carry you into the jaws of death. You cannot fight the creatures on the west bank with armed men and sharp weapons. You must fight them with intelligence and cunning. You must have their power within you before you will be near strong enough to face them!” Her voice became louder as she continued, “They are more powerful than you could imagine! Inupu has given your priest instructions, but what does he know of the frailty of mortals like you? What does he care? If you wish to be the first great ruler of the entire Nile valley, you must learn a way to defeat these abominations! If you loose, Inupu will reject your spirit from the underworld and reject your corpse from the ground. You will wander as a ghost until the end of man!” She calmed her powerful voice as she stood within inches of the kings bowed head, glaring down at him. “If you win, Inupu will herald you as the first chosen ruler of the Nile valley, Egypt will be yours and your sons’ after you.” Akam-Ra’s head snapped up, released from the power of the woman. She was nowhere to be seen. His guards fell to the ground, dead, around him. The priest came running through the village, bowing as he entered the circle of dead guards.
“My lord! I felt something the likes of which I have never felt before!” He stammered out to Akam-Ra.
“I know. Get the toolmaker.” Akam-Ra commanded. The priest bowed again and left the king to retrieve the toolmaker. Akam-Ra sat thinking of the words that Nebet-Het had spoken while he waited for the arrival of the toolmaker. He decided that he didn’t need fighting men to go with him.
The priest returned with the toolmaker in tow and approached Akam-Ra. The two of them waited for several minutes with head bowed for Akam-Ra to address them. Finally he spoke.
“Leave us, priest.” The old priest rose and left, confusion swirling around him. Akam-Ra regarded the toolmaker kneeling before him with bowed head. The powerfully built man could probably kill him with a single blow, if he could connect with it.
“Rise, toolmaker, and look at me.” The toolmaker did as instructed, but did not make eye contact with the king. “Look at my face, my eyes.” Akam-Ra waited for the toolmaker to comply. As he did, Akam-Ra continued. “What do you see when you look at me?”
“I see my king, lord Akam-Ra.” The toolmaker flatly replied.
“You hate me, do you not? You despise me, I think.” Akam-Ra read the man’s face. He was seething inside with anger and hatred.
“I do. I both hate and despise you.” The man stated boldly. No change in expression moved his face. His conviction was true.
“That is what you feel for me, but what do you see?”
“I see a king. A powerful man that keeps all of the people of the East Bank together and understands the minds of men.” He sighed as he admitted the ruler’s quality.
I know, and always have known that you hate me. Do you know why I keep you around?” Akam-Ra continued.
“No. I do not know why you have not killed me as you did my son.”
“Because if I ask you a question, you answer honestly, and I can tell that you are as intelligent and observant as you are strong. You are exactly the type of man that I respect.” Akam-Ra let his words sink into the toolmakers mind. “I am going to require you to accompany me on a very important and long hunt. Before we go, you are going to help me find an interim king. Someone that is between us in attitude. What do you have to say, toolmaker?” The burly man thought for a moment before speaking to the king.
“Why not have your priest rule while you are gone?” But he already knew the answer.
“I would not let that man rule an anthill. He would preach to them about his dog-god while the ants ran amok. We need to find someone sensible and pragmatic. I was going to ask you to rule in my stead until I decided to take you with me.” Akam-Ra looked hard at the toolmaker. It was clear that the man was beginning to understand what was going on. “We are going to search through the kingdom and find the right person.” The toolmaker looked at Akam-Ra. This was going to be a long search.
Northern Nomads
Sefu and Sanaa stood atop a small outcropping of rock in the desert. They watched the lines of people to the north, moving in the early dawn light. They were late to pick up Kamaria from Kibwe and Imani, but this was important, and she was safe. The travelers wore hides like the ones the raiders had worn and carried rough spears along with skins packed with their belongings. The couple could smell their body odor from their observation point almost a mile south of the large band. Sanaa counted in her head the ones she could see that were not obscured by the rolling terrain. The line seemed endless.
“I’ve already counted four thousand, Sefu. What do you want to do?” The first of the travelers would reach the valley in just a few hours.
“We have to go let Kibwe know. This may change things for the people of the valley.” The two spun off of their observation point and ran as fast as they could to the south. It would still be two hours before they reached the village.
Kibwe watched the bluff line to the west while the children played in the short grass at the edge of the village. The girls were hunting grasshoppers and pouncing on them. Sefu and Sanaa were still out and it was already two hours past dawn. The girls found a harmless egg snake and pounced of it. Kibwe turned to the village and watched as Imani, Tieno and Homrhod walked towards him. Imani was laughing and rubbing Tieno’s flat belly. As the trio got closer, Kibwe could see why. Tieno was pregnant. She was less than a month so, but the tiny life changed the heat and blood flow patterns in her body. Tieno would give birth as the first five children of the Vim-Pyr had their first birthday. She would give birth in the winter lands, far to the south.
“Congratulations, Tieno!” Kibwe offered as the group reached him. Tieno smiled and took Homrhod’s hand.
“Thank you, Kibwe!”
“This makes all of us now.” Imani said in low tones, looking at Kibwe.
“Yes, it does. Our clan is growing.” Kibwe said as he turned to address the rushing breeze approaching from the west. All four adults watched as Sefu and Sanaa raced across the fields, heading for the group. Their expressions were serious. The girls had now killed the snake and were drinking its blood.
“There are travelers by the thousands, Kibwe.” Sanaa said. “I counted four thousand before we left. They are two hours run north and are headed for the valley. The first of them will reach the edge of the valley within the hour. They are dressed and smell like the raiders.” Kibwe watched her face intently as she spoke. Sefu stood silently by her side.
“Your turn to baby sit. Imani, will you come with me to meet the new people?” Kibwe asked his mate.
“I think we should all go. The children can stay with the villagers. It’s safe enough.” She walked to the children and scooped them both up easily. The group walked to the center of the village, collecting the other Vim-Pyr and the children as they went. Leaving the fifteen children among the grain grinders and weavers, the group left the village running north.
First Impressions
The nomads stopped at the edge of the green valley. They surveyed its expanse before them. There were two tent villages visible from the rocky slope they stood upon. Ugat pushed past the hunters at the front of the group. He was a huge man, standing a head and a half above the others of his tribe. He looked over the green valley that the others had been surveying. He could tell that there was fresh water down there and his people were thirsty.
“Take the villages.” He ordered in his guttural language. The building mass of men and women began to pour down the slope, heading in two lines for the two tent villages. Ugat stood stationary and watched as his people swarmed to the villages. It would be over soon. There would be water, food and new tents for the nomads today. He turned and looked over the lines of people still coming from the desert. They stretched as far as he could see and he knew that they stretched twice that far. There were two other tribes behind his, but he was here first, they would have to find their own places in the valley.
Kibwe led the Vim-Pyr north through the grasslands. He wanted to get to the two northernmost tent villages before the travelers did. The fifteen of them blurred past other villages as they raced through the copses of trees. The villagers in the fields digging roots and gathering grains noticed only a breeze after the passing of the Vim-Pyr. They ran as fast as Homrhod could go, as he was now the slowest of them. They stopped two hours and ten minutes after leaving the village. They were still a distance from the two northern tent villages, but they could see that they were too late. The invaders were piling bodies outside the village. Men and women were dumped unceremoniously in piles, but Kibwe saw no children’s bodies. The invaders had pale skin and wore hides for clothing. The smell of blood and body odor wafted to the Vim-Pyr on the gentle breeze. The group set in motion once again, heading for the over run village.
They stopped in front of the wall of bodies. Kibwe looked them over, inspecting the rough wounds. It was apparent to him that while the travelers were fierce, they were by no means precise in their killing. Most of the bodies of the peaceful villagers had multiple wounds from spears and clubs. He also noted that mixed in with the bodies of the villagers were bodies of invaders. Not many invaders had died, but that was likely to change shortly. The Vim-Pyr skirted the mounds of dead and stood looking into the village from the east while invaders continued to swarm in from the west. There was hardly room for the invaders to walk among the tents, they were so packed into the village. The Vim-Pyr just stood looking and listening. The ground had become mud from all the blood mixed into the dirt. The language being spoken was a gruff and harsh as the people who spoke it. Finally one of the invaders noticed the group of black skinned men and women standing at the edge of the village. Without a word he rushed at them, swinging a club. Kibwe easily caught the club in mid-swing with his left hand and using his right grabbed the attacker by the face, hurling him back into the crowd of invaders, knocking down and scattering many before the man stopped. Silence spread through the crowd like fire in a dry field. They stopped their pillaging and fighting over new finds to face the people that stood at the edge of the village. The man that had attacked Kibwe slowly regained his feet. He glared at the intruding Vim-Pyr and shouted something in his tongue. The invaders reacted immediately and with a group shout charged at the fifteen calm watchers. The Vim-Pyr stood, waiting for Kibwe’s signal as the invaders massed toward them like a sea of smelly bodies. Kibwe nodded and the Vim-Pyr blurred into motion, meeting the invaders head on. Kibwe and Imani danced into the invaders, punching, kicking and biting. Imani ripped thoughts out with her claw-like nails, releasing yet more blood into the soaked ground. Kibwe’s arms lashed out so fast that they were a blur, yet despite their efficient deadliness, they found themselves backing up in front of the invaders. These people had no fear and showed no regard for the dead among them. They simply pushed the dead or dying in front of them and continued to attack the Vim-Pyr. In just minutes the deadly group was forced back to the edge of the village. They were forced to change from attacking to defending simply because of sheer numbers! They had killed hundreds, and yet more seemed to pour into the fight by the second. Imani caught a stone axe to the back of her head, opening a small wound.
“Retreat.” Kibwe grumbled. The fifteen blurred out of the fight and regrouped a hundred yards from the village. The invaders poured out of the village and swarmed toward the Vim-Pyr.
“Anyone have any suggestions?” Kibwe asked quickly. No one answered quickly enough and the attackers swarmed over them once more, ready to die without a thought about it. The Vim-Pyr fought for several minutes, killing hundreds more before Kibwe called a retreat once again. They regrouped two hundred yards east this time.
“Fire maybe?” Zuberi offered up as a potential suggestion. The mass of attackers rolled across the lush green grass in pursuit of the Vim-Pyr.
“I do not know if we can win this fight, Kibwe.” Homrhod stated. He sported many injuries that were trying to heal and his heavy cloak was shredded. Even though he was acclimated to the sun now, he still wore the protective cloak. Kibwe snarled at the suggestion that they might be incapable of winning this fight. The group braced to fight as once again the invaders surrounded them in a sea of bodies. The Vim-Pyr fought ferociously, killing with every movement of their blurring bodies, but still they were forced back. Bodies piled around them, but the sea of invaders seemed unending. They were now entering the village from the west and running straight through the village to join the battle in the east.
“Retreat!” Kibwe called as he took a blow to the left shoulder from a club. This time the Vim-Pyr regrouped three hundred yards away, doubling their distance from the village. The invaders did not follow. They stood their ground three hundred yards from the village and let out a victorious roar as one, shaking spears and clubs in the air. Kibwe stood looking at the invading people, pondering what to do. They were too aggressive and dangerous to the peaceful villages of the valley to leave them here, and there were too many to fight off. The invaders turned as a group and walked back to the village, stepping over the dead without even looking at them. Kibwe tallied the dead as they appeared behind the withdrawing crowd. There were over a thousand dead from the short, ferocious battle.
Ugat stood watching from the ridge. He tried to see the battle in the southern village, though it was too far for him to make out details. He could tell something big was happening by the way his people sped up as they approached the western edge of the village and poured out the eastern edge. He made his way down the slope and joined the lines going to the south village. It would be dark before he got there, but there would be plenty awake to tell him what happened.
Kibwe looked over his Vim-Pyr. Homrhod had taken the worst damage of the fifteen, but he was healing quickly.
“We are going to rush in, each grab a person and meet back here. These are to feed off of. When we are finished we will rush in and grab another until we are all satisfied. Then we will discuss once again what to do.” Kibwe hoped he or someone would have some ideas by then.
In less than half an hour, the Vim-Pyr were satisfied and forty five bodies were added to the dead. They had struck so fast that the invaders had not known what was happening. Kibwe surmised that they could keep snatching and killing until they had destroyed the invaders, but that would take days, and he wasn’t sure how many more were coming. There was still a steady stream of hundreds of people per minute pouring into the village.
“Any ideas?” Kibwe put out the question to the group. Silence reigned over the small group. Finally Zuberi broke it.
“There would have to be more of us. Ten times more of us to be effective.” Kibwe shook his head. He didn’t like that idea.
“We can wait until dark, when they go to sleep and then kill them.” Tieno offered. The idea sounded reasonable, but Kibwe didn’t want to wait that long, the children were at the village with no Vim-Pyr there to watch over them. Kibwe looked back to the village. They still had not posted any guards or lookouts, even after the battle.
“We could wait until dark.” Kibwe acknowledged Tieno’s suggestion. “Someone will need to go back to the village and care for the children. This is just the south village, there are more of them in the north village. It could take weeks to remove them.”
“Their numbers are overwhelming.” Sefu stated calmly. “They fight like nothing we have ever encountered before.”
“They seem to have no fear of death.” Nuru added. She shook her head slowly.
“They’re from the west world.” Frule began. “If they are here, then there is a reason. They may have been forced from their homelands and are looking for a place to settle. This is much like our people fought when we were defending our hunting lands from invading clans. All that matters is the survival of the clan, not the survival of one person. They’re desperate and so they fight with a ferocity that is hard to match.” Kibwe looked at Frule and then Malor. Malor simply nodded his agreement, looking at the village.
“They’re not speaking your language.” Kibwe said pointedly.
“No, they are probably from further north, judging from their clothing and weapons. The snows most likely drove them south and they haven’t been able to find a place to settle.” Malor deduced.
“Still, they attack without provocation and kill without mercy.” Kibwe looked again at the growing piles of dead on the south side of the village.
“I’m not defending them, just understanding their ways.” Malor replied.
“I know, Malor. I’m just trying to fight off the compassion for them. I’m at a loss as to how to deal with these people.” Kibwe reassured Malor. The Vim-Pyr stood quietly, watching the village for some time.
This is the second story in a series I started earlier this year. The first book ended up being 134,000 words. I have to warn you, these stories have some graphic violence.
Sparse Hunting
Kibwe and Imani stood on the edge of the desert, looking over the green valley of the Nile. Dawn was breaking before them and they watched the sun paint the valley in its splendorous colors. Below them and a good run east lay the village that the pair called home. Sanaa was watching Chausiku while the pair hunted in the night. The couple held hands and looked into each others eyes as they stepped off the sixty foot cliff. They kept their eyes locked and hands together as they dropped to the ground and landed easily in the patch of long grass among the strewn rubble that littered the foot of the bluff. Sunlight washed the face of the bluff above them in delicate oranges and yellows as the two started the run for the village. The grassy landscape was dotted with copses of trees as the two blurred along at a tremendous speed. The fastest cheetah on the plains would not have been able to keep pace with them even for a short distance. They slowed as they approached the village and scanned with eyes, ears and noses. Even though Khalemrho was dead, they had let many of his men live and there was always a possibility that someone would decide that the west bank of the Nile needed a leader that could unite all of the villages and control the people.
“Good morning Kibwe, Imani! How was the hunting last night?” Turuk called as they entered the edge of the village. He was washing his clothing and is eating stones at the stream that ran along the south side of the village.
“Sparse.” Kibwe called back with a smile. They had found only eight goats in the desert and so had each only fed off of one.
“Wrong time of year for goats.” Turuk called back, shaking his head and smiling. “Might try some crocs or hippos down by the river though, it is a good time for them.” Kibwe nodded and called back before the tents blocked his view of Turuk, “Maybe tomorrow night.” Imani smiled up at her man and squeezed his hand.
They made it to Sanaa and Sefu’s tent without anyone else intercepting them and stepped inside. Chausiku and Kamaria were playing on the floor with bones, sticks and rocks while Sanaa and Sefu were sewing leather pieces together to make clothes for the children.
“How was the hunt?” Sefu asked without looking up from his sewing.
“Not very good. I think the goats have gotten wise to our hunting area.” Kibwe answered as he squatted and extended his arms to his daughter. She grabbed his hands and he lifted her to his shoulder where she could see from his perspective. She wrapped her little fingers into his thick hair and looked at her mother who was smiling at her.
“Sanaa and I will try further north tonight while you two baby sit.” Sefu grinned at Kibwe. Kibwe nodded in agreement and looked at his sister. It was hard to believe that raucous woman was a mother. He wondered weather it would mellow her out or not. Sanaa looked up at his contemplative face.
“What?” She asked. It seemed to her that he was seeing into her deepest soul.
“Nothing, sister. Just wondering if being a mother will calm you down or not.” Kibwe smiled at her. She shook her head with a mirthful grin and went back to finishing the clothes she sewed on.
“Bandits!” A woman’s voice called from the north east edge of the village. The tent was suddenly empty with just the sound of rushing air and the tent flap slowly falling back into place.
Fifteen hungry, adult vampires ran for the north east edge of the village of tents. Already they could smell the spilled blood of their friends and neighbors. In the grassy field were eight hairy men that wielded heavy clubs with deadly efficiency! There were four dead grain gatherers further out in the fields and the women were running for the safety of the tents! Kibwe stopped in front of a very surprised woman and handed Chausiku to her and nearby Sanaa did the same with Kamaria. The brother and sister quickly rejoined the others in the dash for the raiding invaders. They were not Neanderthal, but were nearly as large. Their stringy black hair and pale skins were filthy and the heavy brows hid their dark eyes deep in their faces. The raiders never knew what hit them. Kibwe slammed into the lead man with a force that would shatter stone and latched onto the side of his greasy neck with deadly sharp teeth. He felt his venom inject into the man’s flesh and felt the broken bones of that greasy body collapse in his grip. He drank quickly, knowing that in just moments the man’s heart would stop pumping and the blood would be harder to get to. Each of the other raiders were shared by two Vim-Pyr. In seconds the raiding party was exterminated, though the toll on the village was far too high. Kibwe lost himself in the satisfaction of human blood filing his belly. He indulged the sensation of it flowing through him and warming his entire body. Then it was done. There was none left to drink. He dropped the lifeless body into the sea of waving grass. It hit the earth with an unceremonious thump and sprawled in an unnatural way, the broken bones lending it a flexibility it never had in life. He looked around to find the others and noted all of their locations.
Kibwe and Imani walked back to the village hand in hand. They were met at the edge of the tents by Ashmael, who held a spear that he had not had to use.
“Once again, we owe you for our safety, Kibwe. If you had not been here the raiders would have taken many more lives before we could have stopped them.” Ashmael spoke evenly.
“If we had been watching there would have been no deaths to sadden our village. It will not happen again.” Kibwe answered. One dead villager was too many for his conscience. Four men lay dead in the fields. Ashmael let Kibwe and Imani walk past him, looking for their child. Chausiku was safe in the arms of the woman Kibwe had handed her to. He had no fears of leaving his child with any of the villagers, he trusted them implicitly.
“Thank you.” He said as he took his daughter from the woman’s arms. The family walked back to their tent.
At dusk Sefu and Sanaa dropped Kamaria off to Kibwe and Imani so they could go hunting.
“Since you’re going north, keep an eye out for more of those raiders.” Kibwe instructed the couple.
“Absolutely.” Sefu replied with a grin. The hunters left as the two children began to play together. Kibwe and Imani watched the children play until the return of Sefu and Sanaa at dawn.
Preparations
Akam-Ra sat on his throne as the sun broke the eastern horizon. His eyes were heavy from lack of sleep. Surrounded by guards, the king of the East Bank pondered how to make his men ready for the challenges they would face. As he thought a strange woman approached. She walked between the guards who stood frozen and approached Akam-Ra’s throne.
“Who are you, woman, that you approach my throne unbidden?” Akam-Ra asked forcefully.
“Bow your head, mortal. You are in the presence of Nebet-Het!” The woman’s voice echoed through the tent village. Against his will, Akam-Ra’s head tilted foreword. “I come with consultation for you, Akam-Ra. The course you are on will carry you into the jaws of death. You cannot fight the creatures on the west bank with armed men and sharp weapons. You must fight them with intelligence and cunning. You must have their power within you before you will be near strong enough to face them!” Her voice became louder as she continued, “They are more powerful than you could imagine! Inupu has given your priest instructions, but what does he know of the frailty of mortals like you? What does he care? If you wish to be the first great ruler of the entire Nile valley, you must learn a way to defeat these abominations! If you loose, Inupu will reject your spirit from the underworld and reject your corpse from the ground. You will wander as a ghost until the end of man!” She calmed her powerful voice as she stood within inches of the kings bowed head, glaring down at him. “If you win, Inupu will herald you as the first chosen ruler of the Nile valley, Egypt will be yours and your sons’ after you.” Akam-Ra’s head snapped up, released from the power of the woman. She was nowhere to be seen. His guards fell to the ground, dead, around him. The priest came running through the village, bowing as he entered the circle of dead guards.
“My lord! I felt something the likes of which I have never felt before!” He stammered out to Akam-Ra.
“I know. Get the toolmaker.” Akam-Ra commanded. The priest bowed again and left the king to retrieve the toolmaker. Akam-Ra sat thinking of the words that Nebet-Het had spoken while he waited for the arrival of the toolmaker. He decided that he didn’t need fighting men to go with him.
The priest returned with the toolmaker in tow and approached Akam-Ra. The two of them waited for several minutes with head bowed for Akam-Ra to address them. Finally he spoke.
“Leave us, priest.” The old priest rose and left, confusion swirling around him. Akam-Ra regarded the toolmaker kneeling before him with bowed head. The powerfully built man could probably kill him with a single blow, if he could connect with it.
“Rise, toolmaker, and look at me.” The toolmaker did as instructed, but did not make eye contact with the king. “Look at my face, my eyes.” Akam-Ra waited for the toolmaker to comply. As he did, Akam-Ra continued. “What do you see when you look at me?”
“I see my king, lord Akam-Ra.” The toolmaker flatly replied.
“You hate me, do you not? You despise me, I think.” Akam-Ra read the man’s face. He was seething inside with anger and hatred.
“I do. I both hate and despise you.” The man stated boldly. No change in expression moved his face. His conviction was true.
“That is what you feel for me, but what do you see?”
“I see a king. A powerful man that keeps all of the people of the East Bank together and understands the minds of men.” He sighed as he admitted the ruler’s quality.
I know, and always have known that you hate me. Do you know why I keep you around?” Akam-Ra continued.
“No. I do not know why you have not killed me as you did my son.”
“Because if I ask you a question, you answer honestly, and I can tell that you are as intelligent and observant as you are strong. You are exactly the type of man that I respect.” Akam-Ra let his words sink into the toolmakers mind. “I am going to require you to accompany me on a very important and long hunt. Before we go, you are going to help me find an interim king. Someone that is between us in attitude. What do you have to say, toolmaker?” The burly man thought for a moment before speaking to the king.
“Why not have your priest rule while you are gone?” But he already knew the answer.
“I would not let that man rule an anthill. He would preach to them about his dog-god while the ants ran amok. We need to find someone sensible and pragmatic. I was going to ask you to rule in my stead until I decided to take you with me.” Akam-Ra looked hard at the toolmaker. It was clear that the man was beginning to understand what was going on. “We are going to search through the kingdom and find the right person.” The toolmaker looked at Akam-Ra. This was going to be a long search.
Northern Nomads
Sefu and Sanaa stood atop a small outcropping of rock in the desert. They watched the lines of people to the north, moving in the early dawn light. They were late to pick up Kamaria from Kibwe and Imani, but this was important, and she was safe. The travelers wore hides like the ones the raiders had worn and carried rough spears along with skins packed with their belongings. The couple could smell their body odor from their observation point almost a mile south of the large band. Sanaa counted in her head the ones she could see that were not obscured by the rolling terrain. The line seemed endless.
“I’ve already counted four thousand, Sefu. What do you want to do?” The first of the travelers would reach the valley in just a few hours.
“We have to go let Kibwe know. This may change things for the people of the valley.” The two spun off of their observation point and ran as fast as they could to the south. It would still be two hours before they reached the village.
Kibwe watched the bluff line to the west while the children played in the short grass at the edge of the village. The girls were hunting grasshoppers and pouncing on them. Sefu and Sanaa were still out and it was already two hours past dawn. The girls found a harmless egg snake and pounced of it. Kibwe turned to the village and watched as Imani, Tieno and Homrhod walked towards him. Imani was laughing and rubbing Tieno’s flat belly. As the trio got closer, Kibwe could see why. Tieno was pregnant. She was less than a month so, but the tiny life changed the heat and blood flow patterns in her body. Tieno would give birth as the first five children of the Vim-Pyr had their first birthday. She would give birth in the winter lands, far to the south.
“Congratulations, Tieno!” Kibwe offered as the group reached him. Tieno smiled and took Homrhod’s hand.
“Thank you, Kibwe!”
“This makes all of us now.” Imani said in low tones, looking at Kibwe.
“Yes, it does. Our clan is growing.” Kibwe said as he turned to address the rushing breeze approaching from the west. All four adults watched as Sefu and Sanaa raced across the fields, heading for the group. Their expressions were serious. The girls had now killed the snake and were drinking its blood.
“There are travelers by the thousands, Kibwe.” Sanaa said. “I counted four thousand before we left. They are two hours run north and are headed for the valley. The first of them will reach the edge of the valley within the hour. They are dressed and smell like the raiders.” Kibwe watched her face intently as she spoke. Sefu stood silently by her side.
“Your turn to baby sit. Imani, will you come with me to meet the new people?” Kibwe asked his mate.
“I think we should all go. The children can stay with the villagers. It’s safe enough.” She walked to the children and scooped them both up easily. The group walked to the center of the village, collecting the other Vim-Pyr and the children as they went. Leaving the fifteen children among the grain grinders and weavers, the group left the village running north.
First Impressions
The nomads stopped at the edge of the green valley. They surveyed its expanse before them. There were two tent villages visible from the rocky slope they stood upon. Ugat pushed past the hunters at the front of the group. He was a huge man, standing a head and a half above the others of his tribe. He looked over the green valley that the others had been surveying. He could tell that there was fresh water down there and his people were thirsty.
“Take the villages.” He ordered in his guttural language. The building mass of men and women began to pour down the slope, heading in two lines for the two tent villages. Ugat stood stationary and watched as his people swarmed to the villages. It would be over soon. There would be water, food and new tents for the nomads today. He turned and looked over the lines of people still coming from the desert. They stretched as far as he could see and he knew that they stretched twice that far. There were two other tribes behind his, but he was here first, they would have to find their own places in the valley.
Kibwe led the Vim-Pyr north through the grasslands. He wanted to get to the two northernmost tent villages before the travelers did. The fifteen of them blurred past other villages as they raced through the copses of trees. The villagers in the fields digging roots and gathering grains noticed only a breeze after the passing of the Vim-Pyr. They ran as fast as Homrhod could go, as he was now the slowest of them. They stopped two hours and ten minutes after leaving the village. They were still a distance from the two northern tent villages, but they could see that they were too late. The invaders were piling bodies outside the village. Men and women were dumped unceremoniously in piles, but Kibwe saw no children’s bodies. The invaders had pale skin and wore hides for clothing. The smell of blood and body odor wafted to the Vim-Pyr on the gentle breeze. The group set in motion once again, heading for the over run village.
They stopped in front of the wall of bodies. Kibwe looked them over, inspecting the rough wounds. It was apparent to him that while the travelers were fierce, they were by no means precise in their killing. Most of the bodies of the peaceful villagers had multiple wounds from spears and clubs. He also noted that mixed in with the bodies of the villagers were bodies of invaders. Not many invaders had died, but that was likely to change shortly. The Vim-Pyr skirted the mounds of dead and stood looking into the village from the east while invaders continued to swarm in from the west. There was hardly room for the invaders to walk among the tents, they were so packed into the village. The Vim-Pyr just stood looking and listening. The ground had become mud from all the blood mixed into the dirt. The language being spoken was a gruff and harsh as the people who spoke it. Finally one of the invaders noticed the group of black skinned men and women standing at the edge of the village. Without a word he rushed at them, swinging a club. Kibwe easily caught the club in mid-swing with his left hand and using his right grabbed the attacker by the face, hurling him back into the crowd of invaders, knocking down and scattering many before the man stopped. Silence spread through the crowd like fire in a dry field. They stopped their pillaging and fighting over new finds to face the people that stood at the edge of the village. The man that had attacked Kibwe slowly regained his feet. He glared at the intruding Vim-Pyr and shouted something in his tongue. The invaders reacted immediately and with a group shout charged at the fifteen calm watchers. The Vim-Pyr stood, waiting for Kibwe’s signal as the invaders massed toward them like a sea of smelly bodies. Kibwe nodded and the Vim-Pyr blurred into motion, meeting the invaders head on. Kibwe and Imani danced into the invaders, punching, kicking and biting. Imani ripped thoughts out with her claw-like nails, releasing yet more blood into the soaked ground. Kibwe’s arms lashed out so fast that they were a blur, yet despite their efficient deadliness, they found themselves backing up in front of the invaders. These people had no fear and showed no regard for the dead among them. They simply pushed the dead or dying in front of them and continued to attack the Vim-Pyr. In just minutes the deadly group was forced back to the edge of the village. They were forced to change from attacking to defending simply because of sheer numbers! They had killed hundreds, and yet more seemed to pour into the fight by the second. Imani caught a stone axe to the back of her head, opening a small wound.
“Retreat.” Kibwe grumbled. The fifteen blurred out of the fight and regrouped a hundred yards from the village. The invaders poured out of the village and swarmed toward the Vim-Pyr.
“Anyone have any suggestions?” Kibwe asked quickly. No one answered quickly enough and the attackers swarmed over them once more, ready to die without a thought about it. The Vim-Pyr fought for several minutes, killing hundreds more before Kibwe called a retreat once again. They regrouped two hundred yards east this time.
“Fire maybe?” Zuberi offered up as a potential suggestion. The mass of attackers rolled across the lush green grass in pursuit of the Vim-Pyr.
“I do not know if we can win this fight, Kibwe.” Homrhod stated. He sported many injuries that were trying to heal and his heavy cloak was shredded. Even though he was acclimated to the sun now, he still wore the protective cloak. Kibwe snarled at the suggestion that they might be incapable of winning this fight. The group braced to fight as once again the invaders surrounded them in a sea of bodies. The Vim-Pyr fought ferociously, killing with every movement of their blurring bodies, but still they were forced back. Bodies piled around them, but the sea of invaders seemed unending. They were now entering the village from the west and running straight through the village to join the battle in the east.
“Retreat!” Kibwe called as he took a blow to the left shoulder from a club. This time the Vim-Pyr regrouped three hundred yards away, doubling their distance from the village. The invaders did not follow. They stood their ground three hundred yards from the village and let out a victorious roar as one, shaking spears and clubs in the air. Kibwe stood looking at the invading people, pondering what to do. They were too aggressive and dangerous to the peaceful villages of the valley to leave them here, and there were too many to fight off. The invaders turned as a group and walked back to the village, stepping over the dead without even looking at them. Kibwe tallied the dead as they appeared behind the withdrawing crowd. There were over a thousand dead from the short, ferocious battle.
Ugat stood watching from the ridge. He tried to see the battle in the southern village, though it was too far for him to make out details. He could tell something big was happening by the way his people sped up as they approached the western edge of the village and poured out the eastern edge. He made his way down the slope and joined the lines going to the south village. It would be dark before he got there, but there would be plenty awake to tell him what happened.
Kibwe looked over his Vim-Pyr. Homrhod had taken the worst damage of the fifteen, but he was healing quickly.
“We are going to rush in, each grab a person and meet back here. These are to feed off of. When we are finished we will rush in and grab another until we are all satisfied. Then we will discuss once again what to do.” Kibwe hoped he or someone would have some ideas by then.
In less than half an hour, the Vim-Pyr were satisfied and forty five bodies were added to the dead. They had struck so fast that the invaders had not known what was happening. Kibwe surmised that they could keep snatching and killing until they had destroyed the invaders, but that would take days, and he wasn’t sure how many more were coming. There was still a steady stream of hundreds of people per minute pouring into the village.
“Any ideas?” Kibwe put out the question to the group. Silence reigned over the small group. Finally Zuberi broke it.
“There would have to be more of us. Ten times more of us to be effective.” Kibwe shook his head. He didn’t like that idea.
“We can wait until dark, when they go to sleep and then kill them.” Tieno offered. The idea sounded reasonable, but Kibwe didn’t want to wait that long, the children were at the village with no Vim-Pyr there to watch over them. Kibwe looked back to the village. They still had not posted any guards or lookouts, even after the battle.
“We could wait until dark.” Kibwe acknowledged Tieno’s suggestion. “Someone will need to go back to the village and care for the children. This is just the south village, there are more of them in the north village. It could take weeks to remove them.”
“Their numbers are overwhelming.” Sefu stated calmly. “They fight like nothing we have ever encountered before.”
“They seem to have no fear of death.” Nuru added. She shook her head slowly.
“They’re from the west world.” Frule began. “If they are here, then there is a reason. They may have been forced from their homelands and are looking for a place to settle. This is much like our people fought when we were defending our hunting lands from invading clans. All that matters is the survival of the clan, not the survival of one person. They’re desperate and so they fight with a ferocity that is hard to match.” Kibwe looked at Frule and then Malor. Malor simply nodded his agreement, looking at the village.
“They’re not speaking your language.” Kibwe said pointedly.
“No, they are probably from further north, judging from their clothing and weapons. The snows most likely drove them south and they haven’t been able to find a place to settle.” Malor deduced.
“Still, they attack without provocation and kill without mercy.” Kibwe looked again at the growing piles of dead on the south side of the village.
“I’m not defending them, just understanding their ways.” Malor replied.
“I know, Malor. I’m just trying to fight off the compassion for them. I’m at a loss as to how to deal with these people.” Kibwe reassured Malor. The Vim-Pyr stood quietly, watching the village for some time.
