“Brothers, sisters, cousins, how are you today?” Shabra grumpily walked up to the platform where all the escapees could see him. They numbered almost 100, and none of them gave a happy reply. “I share the enthusiasm. Today, I feel miserable myself, and you know why? I DIDN’T HAVE MY COFFEE! I miss the morning brew directly imported from Kaffa!”
Consensus stirred from the people, and a short discussion about the best coffee brand ensued. It lasted until Tabira raised a stone with the magic of her finger and slammed it repeatedly on the ground like a hammer.
“Ahem,” Tabira grunted and shifted on her throne of pillows to find a comfortable sitting position that became increasingly more impossible with each passing day. “Let us remain on the subject and not talk about coffee,” Tabira held her nose. “I miss the smell so much, oh Enlil, this burden.”
“Of course, everything for Enlil’s future vessel, the God of Benevolence.” Shabra made an overly polite bow as he bent his back so far he faced the ground. The others followed suit.
Tabira rolled her eyes and leaned toward Kiur beside her. “Hard competition, you think you will manage?” If she didn’t know better she would have guessed he was a stranger close to a nervous breakdown.
Kiur’s eyes were dark and hollow, his hands clasped together before his mouth and his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward with his leg tapping fast.
“When was the last time you slept?” she inquired when Kiur didn’t respond.
“Dunno, a few hours? Days? Lost count, can’t rest yet,” Kiur replied so quickly Tabira needed a moment to process. “I tried to think of something to convince Shabra about changing his mind.”
They observed how Shabra was riling up the people, smooth-talking them into believing they didn’t need to leave the basin. How their dwarven architecture would protect them from any danger as it did with the Malkuth Demons in the north for the past 800 years.
Everyone knew about their ingenuity in building the most impenetrable defences and works that defied both physics and magic. On top of that, Shabra’s position as a temple administrator preceded him.
If Tabira were in his place, she would have been able to convince them all due to her position as a future vessel to one of their gods.
Shabra’s tongue though was enough to entice the group against Kiur’s idea. “They took us from our homes and displaced our siblings and cousins. Children were separated from their parents, the homes of the gods were vandalised, and now we suffer the consequences. Why would we be so stupid to believe their word? We are native to this desert, and we will prevail over it!”
More agreement and shouts of approval went out from the crowd, and Tabira shifted in her seat. It was not looking good, and frankly? She didn’t know what side to pick.
Shabra spoke the truth, and there was merit to his words. She wasn’t keen on either cooperating with the Reiszer and would rather have preferred to stay here.
But Enlil, her patron god, told her to trust in Kiur. They were the answer to their survival, not Shabra.
“They,” Tabira mused, confused about how Enlil addressed Kiur. “If you trusted him so much, why did you reject him over me as your next successor?”
“Gala in Training, Enlil’s Priestess, wouldn’t you agree?”
Tabira woke up from her stupor and noticed everyone’s eyes were on her. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. What was your question again?”
A grumble came over Shabra’s lips, and the crowd chuckled faintly.
“Don’t you agree that this vote is but a formality? Surely you and Enlil the Benevolent see that this isn’t necessary? Everyone agrees that cooperation with the Reiszer is a flight of fancy. The moment we decide to trust them, they will hold their swords against our throats and threaten us to surrender. We cannot trust them.”
Another wild chorus of murmur went out, and Tabira held a hand over her belly and leaned forward. “Shabra, as a follower of Shamash, the God of Justice, you know the importance of proper procedures. We hear out both sides and make a decision afterwards.”
“Tabira,” Shabra coughed into his fist, impatience rising to his head. “As a future Gala Priestess, you have to agree that–”
“Wrap it up, Shabra,” Tabira glowered at Shabra unintentionally as she just experienced a wild kick. A grunt escaped her lips. “I am not a Sovereign like Idris of Idaris or Aaliyah of Navarre. Make your last statement; I am tired,” Tabira waved with her hand. “Does someone mind getting me some water, please?”
Shabra dipped his head and addressed the crowd again. “Friends, don’t forget. I am doing this for the good of everyone here. This place my brothers, sisters and I have built is a testament, a bulwark no Reiszer can hope to tear through. We can AND we will survive this without their help. I would rather see myself scorched by the solstice than be betrayed by the Reiszer… again.”
Shabra left the platform and walked past Kiur but not without grabbing his arm to snarl at his ear. “Listen to me, child. What you are suggesting is crazy. For your own good, don’t trust those people. There’s only disappointment waiting for you. Believe me when I tell you there’s nothing good about trusting a Reiszer over your fellow people.”
Shabra waited for Kiur’s reaction. His face was sunken and deprived of sleep—his bearing slow and shaky. The old dwarf knew he couldn’t change his mind, just as Kiur couldn’t stop Shabra.
His determination was low but driven by necessity. “I don’t like this either,” Kiur murmured, holding Shabra’s old and worn hand. “But I have to, for all of us. It includes you as well.”
—☽—
Kiur stumbled on his last step and almost fell on the people who raised their hands in case to capture him. He went through his hair with his cold right hand and tried to focus.
His left eye was hazy, and Kiur shook away his feeling of dread and tiredness. “I need to be presentable for the opening.”
“I am sorry, everyone.”
“A great start,” thought Kiur and watched from the corner of his left eye how Gilgamesh stood in the audience with a taller blond woman with bronze skin, holding a tablet in her hand, Geshtinanna. “You want to make notes? Sure, go ahead.”
Kiur’s hand went into his shawl, right where he had tugged in the red stone he received. He siphoned the energy out of it and let energise him. “Anger—doesn’t matter—give me its strength.”
When Kiur reopened his eyes they sparked with a red shimmer that partly startled and drew the crowd in—ignoring the fact he looked like a dead man that just crawled back from the underworld.
“Last night, you saw Reiszer being brought into our camp. Yesterday I had ventured out there to convince them to come and plea for help simply because we cannot survive without them in the desert.”
A wave of disapproval surged through the crowd, and Kiur’s mind went hazy again. He turned to Gilgamesh who had his arms crossed, and Geshtinanna observed silently with her tablet in hand.
“I need to do this, just a bit more to finish the opening,” Kiur bit his lip and stared at the crowd, spotting a particular girl standing out from them all.
“You can do this; I believe in you!” Liara shouted from the crowd. “Keep going; you are doing amazingly.”
Obviously, it was a lie, but Kiur took it with gratitude. He straightened his back, held the shawl with one hand and spread his other arm.
“I know you all agree to Shabra’s words, and so do I. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t want to cooperate either,” Kiur replied with forced confidence. “But–”
“Then why do you do that in the first place?” Shabra interjected from the back. “You are like us, displaced from home by those barbarians! You should be siding with us, not–”
“Shabra,” Tabira waved with her hand and dropped the dwarf into a pit where only his head stuck out. “Interruptions will not be tolerated. As Aaliyah of Navarre once said, ‘No remarks from the peanut gallery.’”
With another wave of her hand, Shabra was unearthed. With a flustered face, he sat back down. Tabira nodded for Kiur to continue but now he needed to address Shabra’s topic.
“To answer the question,” Kiur continued, “I do this not because I like it but for the reason it’s necessary. You all know what lies ahead, the Summer Solstice, when Dumuzid dies, and the earth suffers from his loss.
“My adoptive mother found me in Kutha when I was alone and parentless during the Solstice; I only survived because of her. I fear if we stay in the desert, we might not survive this… no one might.
“Rivers will disappear, there will be no food, and the Aqrabuamelu will hunt us all down, like the Reiszer. There’s only cooperation or death and nothing else.”
A bitter silence.
No one dared to look up; they knew how bad the Summer Solstice was. It was the month of death, famine and disease. Esha, his mother, found Kiur over 16 years ago in Kutha with no parents by his side and burns all over his skin.
The fact he was still alive was a miracle in itself, but the pain and terror Esha explained to him were more than real. That was why she always went on her trips to Kutha.
To try and save as many as she could before the Solstice. Kiur needed to do the same.
“There’s little I can say to convince you otherwise, and I will agree that it’s not up to us to reach out for help but the Reiszer. Ragnar, the leader of one of their groups, begged me for help, but it’s still not enough. Yesterday I approached a group of Reiszer to make them beg for our help, so today, I will forego my speaking time for a Reiszer to talk.”
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Now the crowd was getting anxious and disturbed by the mention of letting a Reiszer speak. Tabira had the forethought to hide the Reiszer and not put them on display for fear they would get lynched.
So when Kiur suggested to her the idea of letting a Reiszer talk she was reluctant but had to give in because it was Kiur’s decision to give up his time.
So with shackles in his hands, Waldemar, the dwarven Reiszer, walked up the stage to hold a speech they would not forget.
—☾—
“EACH AND EVERYONE ONE OF YOU IS A MORON!” bellowed Waldemar in their language after taking a solid dramatical breathing pause, effectively stunning everyone and causing outrage.
Tabira gave Kiur an incredulous look who simply buried his face in his hands.
“How stupid can you all be?” Waldemar laughed with spit flying into the audience. “Believing a Reiszer? Really? Did your mothers coddle you too much and strangled your last remaining brain cells? Whoever believed even for a second you could trust us, please, raise your hand so I can laugh straight in your faces!”
“Kiur,” Tabira leaned over to him. “I have no idea what you are planning by letting his mouth run like this, but it won’t look good on you.”
Kiur looked through the gaps between his fingers and watched the disaster unfold.
After bringing Ninda to bed yesterday, Kiur was still restless. In his sleep-deprived state, he asked for someone’s help which was a sure backfire.
What could Kiur tell his people to convince them?
His answer? Nothing.
He could try to come up with the most compelling arguments to convince them but it wouldn’t matter. What they needed to hear the most was confirmation from a Reiszer—true conviction that they truly wished for cooperation.
Sadly, the only important and available Reiszer to do so at the time was Waldemar. Not a solid choice, but Kiur had a plan, albeit a very desperate one.
“I mean, seriously, people, I could go into a rant here, but you already know the answer to what you should do, don’t you? You would be stupid NOT to take it,” Waldemar grinned snidely and waved towards Shabra. “After all, my father here is in the right!”
A murmur steered through the crowd, and everyone had their eyes on Shabra who stared at Waldemar in disbelief and with a dropped jaw.
Tabira shook her head and whispered to Kiur, “Is this really your plan? I mean, I don’t mind, but this?”
Kiur didn’t reply; he was too tired to do so.
Last night was the same. Kiur went to the cell Waldemar was sitting in and sat down before him.
“Well, how did your plan work out?” Waldemar asked and dwindled with his thumbs. “How did convincing them play out? I heard there will be a vote tomorrow; can’t believe it will turn in your favour.”
Kiur agreed, “That’s why I need your help.”
Waldemar whistled. “There’s little you can do to convince me, same as with the others. What can you possibly offer me to help you?”
“And what did you offer him?” Tabira asked, curious herself.
“You are seeing it, don’t you?” replied Kiur, his eyes fixed on Waldemar’s act as he expressed his support for Shabra.
It was a dirty act Kiur never hoped on using—knowing how horrible it was himself.
“Gaslighting the enemy, huh?” Tabira tabbed with her finger against her cheek and couldn’t help but smile at how Shabra squirmed. “Wish I had snacks for this.”
“Wwha- wha- What are you saying!” Shabra slammed his fist against his chair back. “You’re no–”
“I mean, his plan is smart and the only sensible one you have.” Waldemar kept going and ignored the rant Shabra was making at the back. He was enjoying this. “Crossing the desert with those Scorpion People running rampant? I would be insane to attempt this—which I totally am, but that’s beside the point—even we ‘Reiszer’,” Waldemar made some air quotes at the word, “have our problems with them, and you got THIS HIDEOUT—hidden and well-protected from everyone. What more could you ask for? It’s the ultimate defence!”
Uncomfortable murmuring.
“My father has always been the smartest one. Working in the temple of a high god while his son was a Reiszer. He’s a devoted man, but sadly I forgot more about the gods than I could have ever cared for.” Waldemar laughed. “He is resourceful, dutiful and resolute! You absolutely should listen to him. I, his beloved and lost son, can attest to his words that his plan will work, won’t you all agree?”
Waldemar’s ‘father’ was seething. “Be quiet, you ignorable oaf, or I will–”
“Shabra, it’s not your turn to speak,” Tabira reminded him once again.
“But, he is–”
Tabira suppressed a chuckle. “He can say whatever he wants during his speech. Do not interrupt, or do you fear losing?”
Shabra gritted his teeth. Tabira started to feel bad for the dwarf. He had the sincere interest of everyone in his mind, but she couldn’t help finding this situation amusing.
She felt guilty about it but not so much as Kiur did. Tabira worried if resorting to this method was something Kiur could live with.
“I could go on and on about how useless this conversation is since my father is always right.” The crowd was getting bored and annoyed by how much Waldemar praised Shabra, but Tabira felt unsettled when he looked her way. “Instead, we should look at our young mother to be here.”
“You son of a–” Tabira shifted uncomfortably in her chair when everybody began to stare at her.
“A priestess that serves a god, a young woman barely in her twenties who leads the entire group of escapees and protects them. She does everything AND MORE while pregnant; isn’t that heartwarming?”
Waldemar pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose. It was unclear whether his act was faked or not, but it made the crowd shuffle awkwardly.
“This woman is such an inspiration and soooo committed.” Waldemar balled his eyes out, and Tabira shuddered. Out of habit, she put her hand on her belly and unknowingly played right into his hands. “Just look at her, so radiant and round, with no shred of complaint in her tired body.”
“I will give you a complaint.” Tabira was about to shoot out of her seat if she wasn’t so tired or if Kiur didn’t hold her back. “Don’t think you can stop me; I will wrangle this dwarf’s head.”
“I know, but not now.” Kiur calmed her down, and Tabira continued to watch with an annoyed expression the Waldemar Show.
“If it were up to me, I would have given her special treatment for all she has done. I mean, how often do you see a pregnant woman leading a group of escapees? She has your best interest in mind, and without her, you would have bit the dust already, right?”
Another wave of uncomfortable murmur but this time, much more dejected.
“But there is one thing that makes me even sadder to think about.” Waldemar clenched his heart and sobbed. “What will her fate be when the Solstice comes?”
Waldemar’s cries drew in the crowd who were both worried and curious about what he meant.
“A woman giving birth to a child during the Solstice. I cannot help but feel hopeless about her predicament. No matter what you would try, the child’s fate will fall under the mercy of the gods. How many have you lost already during the summer months?”
Tabira nervously circled her finger over her mount. She didn’t want to show it, but she was worried about what might happen to the child when the Solstice came. She came to terms with the fact she, the child, or both might not survive it, but the others didn’t want to be faced with this reality.
“Too late now,” thought Tabira glaring at Waldemar who was pinching at their guilt.
“You people must be quite content leading this young mother to her fate. What will you say when fate comes, and you have to bury them–”
“Do you have a better suggestion?” someone from the crowd cried out. “No one wants that!”
“You brought us to this!”
“What else are we supposed to do?”
“Aha!” Waldemar pointed to the woman who voiced the question aloud. “Now that’s the kind of query I was waiting for!” the mischievous dwarf cackled. “You have an option on what to do. In fact, you have two!”
Waldemar showed them his middle and index finger. “First, you stay with the plan of my dear and dependable father to remain sheltered here—which is quite frankly a moronic idea since not even we dwarves were able to best the desert.
“Or! You put your trust in us!” Waldemar drummed with his fists at his chest. “What do you have to lose? Your lives might forfeit either way. It’s either A: Crawling into a hole, or B: fighting our way out of the desert, together. What will it be?”
Shabra huffed unperturbed about it. “That’s his plan? He’s gotta be more–”
Waldemar did something which was very much typical for the erratic dwarf but also unexpected for a Reiszer—he grovelled.
“If you want to see a Reiszer beg for help, then here you have it,” Waldemar replied indigently. “We have nothing to lose and know when we need help. I ask for all of my remaining comrades to please help us.”
—✶—
On the side of Waldemar's grovelling, Shabra couldn’t help but bury his head in his hands in disbelief, although the others were more than confused about what to think about this action.
“Thank you for doing this,” whispered Kiur, putting his hand on Waldemar’s shoulder and helping the dwarf up. “I didn't ask for the grovelling part, but it was a nice touch.”
“Pah, just a little extra, though it was more than enough to let that old sock squirm,” Waldemar glanced back to Shabra and waved at him with a grin. “I did my part, and pray to whatever god you believe in that you can convince them.”
Walking off the stage, Waldemar left Kiur to continue the speech and address the confused crowd. He barely had a few minutes to spare, but that’s all he needed.
Unravelling the clothed sword, Kiur presented it to them, and everyone recognized the familiar shape of a Reiszer sword. “This is the weapon Ragnar Marcet gave me to convince you. It’s a weapon most dear to him because it belonged to someone he lost in the desert.”
Last night when Kiur reapproached Waldemar, the dwarf told him something else. He didn’t just agree to help Kiur but also told him something about the sword and Ragnar.
“You know whom it belonged to?” Waldemar had asked in his cell. The dwarf rubbed his thumb into the dirt. Kiur felt the gazes of the other Reiszer piercing his back. “He gifted the sword to his son who died alongside his cousin when those Scorpion People appeared. Poor fate, if Ragnar decided to give the sword to you then he wants to believe the cooperation will happen.”
Waldemar bit at his dirt-crusted thumb and drew the blood into the dirt. “Or he hopes his remaining relative will survive.”
“I wouldn’t ask any of you to ignore your fear or hatred towards the Reiszer if it wasn’t necessary.” Kiur rubbed the base of the sword and put it down carefully. “Even the Reiszer know they can’t survive the retreat without help, and we know we won’t either. We can’t endure the Solstice. Ragnar entrusted me with his sword to show his conviction. One of my friends stayed behind because he put his trust in Ragnar as well.”
A flame danced inside Kiur’s heart. He could feel his feelings overwhelming him, but he needed to stay resolute. “Please, I ask of you, if nothing else, consider cooperation.”
Time had run out—Kiur had nothing else to add. He retreated to his side where Waldemar was already waiting for him grinning.
“Snotty speech,” Waldemar said. “You think it will be enough?”
Kiur shook his head. “I don’t know. Hopefully, it was.”
After a recess, everyone was contemplating the speech of both Kiur—Waldemar included—and that of Shabra. At some point, it was getting heated, and Tabira stood up from her seat to diffuse it.
With a wave of her hand, her eyes glowed. The earth rose, separating the crowd into sets of 10 people each.
“As a priestess, I will remain impartial for the voting process,” Tabira groaned and raised a chair for herself to sit down on. If it was an act to play the pregnant leader of escapees or her being tired didn’t matter—the crowd felt uneasy. “Each of you has one vote, and abstention will not be allowed.”
Tabira put up her right arm where Shabra was sitting. “Right arm means to remain here and wait out the Summer Solstice. A reminder, there is no guarantee Shabra’s idea will work since there have never been successful reports of survival during that time and–”
“With all due respect, this isn’t fair!” Shabra complained. “This will influence the votes and–”
“Shabra,” Tabira waved with her arm, and Shabra’s chair lost half its height—he almost fell over his child’s chair. “I will not withhold information on this matter since our survival depends on it. Everyone should be aware of the risks.”
Proceeding onwards, Tabira raised her left arm for Kiur’s side. “Raise your left when you agree to the idea of Kiur on cooperation with the Reiszer. Again, there is no guarantee his plan will work either or if they will hold onto their word. Regardless, cooperation might bring us out of the desert.”
Tabira lowered both of her arms to her lap and straightened her back. “This will be all—vote now for whoever is for Kiur’s idea.”