NOVEL NEXT Book 2: Chapter 46
Twelve children.
Twelve children had sneaked into Mashkan-shapir and only one had returned, her dress torn and tears in her eyes, screaming of evil men.
Child snatchers. Slavers. Oak tightened his sword belt with a harsh tug and buckled it, finding a sense of calm in the familiar creaking of oiled leather. Or something much worse. No one had yet given voice to the worst fears lurking in the back of every parent's mind, but that didn't mean those fears didn't exist.
Yakubu waited impatiently by his side in his mail hauberk and silk wrapped helm, decked out for war. His bloodshot eyes did not still for a moment, and he kept clenching and unclenching his fists.
I better keep him occupied. "Tell me again. I want to be sure I know how it happened like the back of my hand," Oak said and snatched the giant meat cleaver and its sheath from the wagon. He looked at them fondly, admiring the way sunlight reflected from the polished metal. "Even the tiniest detail might be important."
"There isn't much to tell, other than the fact the snatchers didn't look like the locals. Too dark skinned, and they wore strange garb." Yakubu shook his head, features creased with worry. "The children, my foolish son, Itoro, among them, sneaked to the city in the morning after their chores. Apparently, the call of adventure was too tempting to ignore." He let out a dejected sigh and rubbed his temples. "I told him we could go together later, after I finished my errands."
Oak strapped the sheath over his broad chest and slid the cleaver into place with a satisfying thump. He motioned for Yakubu to continue.
"Fatiha, the girl who escaped, told us it happened in an alley in Old Duwari, though she could not tell us the precise location. Scared out of her wits, she was. We are lucky she remembers anything at all," Yakubu said in a flat voice. "I can deduce the shape of it well enough from her ramblings. Those honorless mongrels stalked the children and set up an ambush. They came from both ends of the alley, leaving the kids with nowhere to run."
"And yet, somehow, Fatiha got past them in the chaos and fled as fast as her little legs could carry her, until she stumbled back into the camp." Oak pulled his new jacket over his shoulders and cracked his neck. "Yakubu. Believe me, I know it looks bleak, but there is hope. The fuckers made a mistake. Who says they didn't make another?"
"I cannot bring myself to hope, but your words are a balm to my soul all the same, friend."
"Don't worry, I have a–"
"I knew it! He has a plan!"
Oak turned around and found himself face to face with Onyeka and Baako Sakyi. The sinewy brother and sister Tochukwu had trusted with his life back in Al-Badra stood there armed to the teeth, looking like a pair of headhunters in search of fresh scalps.
"We want in," Baako continued, her gravely voice leaving no room for disagreement. "Those shit stains messed with the wrong caravan."
Onyeka nodded his agreement, fingering the hilts of the long-knives on his belt. "Yeah," he said, and his feral grin had little humor in it. "You seek blood and retribution. We are on the same path."
The bald Koromite siblings stared at Yakubu and Oak, waiting patiently for their permission. Oak considered it. Bringing some capable hands along might be a major help if things turned bloody. Who am I kidding? When, not if things turn bloody. "It's your call, Yakubu, but I favor letting them join us." Oak shrugged. "I have never regretted an extra blade by my side."
"You honor me beyond words, Baako and Onyeka. I will gladly accept your help." Yakubu bowed low and pressed his fist over his heart. "Walk in glory, now and always."
Baako and Onyeka returned the gesture, their eyes flashing with excitement. "The death of a slaver is a beautiful thing," Baako murmured. "And we have not forgotten Al-Badra. You both played your part in getting us all out of that jungle in one piece."
Yakubu nodded firmly and took a deep, shuddering breath. "Then let's make our way to the city. We do not have time to waste."
"Agreed." Oak grabbed a thin bundle from the wagon and walked past the siblings towards the circled wagons of the Kporaro caravan company. "Wait for me by the road. I need to have a quick word with Tochukwu before we depart."
***
"Horrible. Absolutely Goddam horrible, is what this is!" Tochukwu huffed, rubbing his glisteningly bald head. All the bluster he usually carried himself with was absent from his weathered face. "But there is very little I can do to help."
"I know. Believe me, I know." Oak examined the fat leader of their caravan, slumped on the driver's box of his wagon. He looked bleak. Like a stretched piece of fabric, ready to rip apart at the seams. The angry crowd screaming for solutions had dispersed, for now. Who knew when they might return, hearts grown rank with anger and fear? "Every day we delay here costs us money and time. Running out of either might kill us on the road. That is why I will not ask for much."
"Spit it out, Oak. What do you want?" Tochukwu asked and lifted his gaze from the dirt. A teamster with a sympathetic look on his face walked by and wordlessly offered his boss a green bottle of something that smelled incredibly alcoholic. The caravan leader considered the bottle, shrugged and took a long pull from it, swallowing down big gulps of some type of liquor.
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Tochukwu belched and wiped his mouth. "By the Mother, this tastes like piss. Want any?"
"No thanks. Now, listen closely, before you drink yourself blind," Oak said. "We were supposed to leave tomorrow, early in the morning. I ask that you wait at least until midday, before you depart."
"I can do that. Yes, that is reasonable," Tochukwu replied. He squinted at Oak, wearing his confusion openly on his face. "Why aren't you asking for more time? Why not ask for a full day? Or two days?"
Oak looked at the open sky and bit his lip. There were lots of reasons why asking for more time than he had asked for felt pointless, but they all boiled down to one simple fact. "We are right next to the Nin-gublaga, Tochukwu. A thousand boats fill the piers of Mashkan-shapir and a thousand more are always on the move. If we don't find the children fast, we will never find them at all."
***
By any metric, the group waiting for Oak on the edge of the encampment was strange. They would certainly draw the eye once they entered the city. It had also grown in his absence. Yakubu's wife, Inyene, and his two daughters, Ekene and Nkechi, had come to see them off.
Yakubu knelt in the dirt, hugging his sobbing little girls and his trembling wife against his chest. They spoke in hushed, rapid whispers, and held onto each other with unguarded desperation. Oak purposefully lowered the intensity of his enhanced hearing, shutting out the Koromite cavalryman's attempts to soothe his terrified kin, and walked over to Sadia and Geezer.
Intruding to the Nkruma family's private moment felt wrong. Like dragging the edge of a blade against a jagged rock. Yakubu's whispered promises were not for Oak's ears. Ur-Namma and the Sakyi siblings had clearly arrived at the same conclusion. Baako, Onyeka, and the old elf stood apart from the rest of their group, staring at the city. Oak could almost see the gears grinding inside that ancient head, evaluating and discarding plans of action.
"What are we going to do?" Sadia asked, keeping her voice low. Geezer sat between the little spellsingers legs, staring up at Oak with a determined look in his red eyes. Sadia scratched the hellhound behind the ears absentmindedly. "And before you start, don't even try to tell me to stay behind."
"I wouldn't dream of it, little hellion. You are way too useful and I suspect you wouldn't obey me anyway," Oak replied. He handed the girl the thin bundle he had taken from the wagon. "This is for you. Open it."
Sadia accepted the bundle and rolled it open. Inside was a simple, but elegant, long-knife in its white leather sheath. She grasped the handle and pulled the weapon out carefully, like it was made of glass. The fifteen inch blade of polished steel shone in the midday sun. "I–thank you, Oak." Sadia lifted an eyebrow and turned the long-knife this way and that in her hand, admiring the craftsmanship. "Why are you giving me this? Do you want me to stab somebody?"
"Yes, if the situation calls for it. No one should go into a fight without a good knife, least of all anyone I call a friend." Oak ruffled Sadia's messy black hair, eliciting an outraged shriek from the girl. "That's a fact."
"Stop it, you beast!" Sadia tried to comp her hair back into some semblance of order while she stared daggers at Oak. "I have a knife, you know, and I'm not afraid to use it."
"See, you already understand the benefits of carrying one!" Oak could not help the smile that climbed onto his face. "You're a quick study."
"Fuck off. Now, what the Hell is the plan?" Sadia whispered. She glanced at Yakubu and his family, kneeling in the dirt and grimaced. "I hope it's a good one."
Oak rubbed the back of his head, and his smile vanished. "It's more of a concept of a plan, really. Me and Ur-Namma came up with it, but it is a work in progress."
"LET ME GUESS. WE SHAKE THE TREE?" Geezer asked. The hellhound licked his chops and snapped his jaws, showing off his wickedly sharp teeth.
"Oh yeah. We will shake the tree alright," Oak replied. He stared at the walls and spires of Mashkan-shapir and stoked the wrath smoldering in his heart. "We will shake it good and proper."
***
It was time to go.
Inyene gave Yakubu a fierce kiss and hugged him tight, her hazel eyes smoldering with rage and worry. "Officium et familia, my love. Bring him back to us."
"I will." Yakubu whispered and straightened his frame. "Gloria in Excelsis to the Hounds of War."
The seven of them gathered onto the road and set their sights on the city. They walked down the already familiar path, past the massive fields and the farm workers laboring in the oppressive heat. No one looked back, least of all Yakubu, whose eyes never left the gates of Mashkan-shapir.
Mission focused to the bitter end. It's the only way to be in a moment like this. Oak could only guess at the dark thoughts swirling in Yakubu's head, but he doubted anything in there right now should see the light of day. Not that Oak's own thoughts were full of roses and bunnies, either. This time, the boats skipping on the glistening waves of the Nin-gublaga held a sinister weight to them.
Any of the boats racing down the river could hold children in their bow. For all he knew, they could already be too late. Oak closed his eyes. Hear me now, Ashmedai, Demon of Wrath. My Patron. If we are too late to provide rescue, let us be early enough to exact vengeance. He fluttered his eyelids open and squeezed the handle of his falchion.
On a day like this, it never hurts to pray.
When they reached the gates, Oak took point and pushed through the crowd, bowling over anyone who got in his way. A raging bull charging through might have attracted less attention. The guards manning their posts took one look at him and the strange company following in his wake, and pretended to suffer from a sudden bout of blindness.
It was a wise choice on their part. A red rage pulsed behind Oak's eyes, yearning to break free and set the world alight. He would rather break a man in half than stop to listen to his bleating about laws and regulations.
Time was of the essence, so Oak acted accordingly. He rushed down the busy roads, towards the district of Old Duwari, and his companions followed in his wake like a gaggle of murderous ducklings. Every once in a while he grabbed hold of a passing citizen and asked a simple question: "Pazuzus. Where?"
Through the power of a few strong slaps, some heavy shaking, and a multitude of colorful answers, they finally reached a street corner, where a group of youngsters lounged around like they were hot shit. Oak spied a familiar face among the gangers and walked over to them.
"–believe it, man! It was fucking wild!" Driss, the young man in ratty robes who had tried to steal from their cart earlier in the day, shouted, showing off the tiny scar on his neck to the other young men standing around the street corner.
"Hello, Driss. Long time no see," Oak said and watched as the thief paled until the color of his face resembled that of fresh snow. "You are going to help us, or else."