Cries of anguish, bloody wailing and steel hacking through lamellar. Beasts roared as they gnashed and tore with their overgrown fangs. It failed to drown out the agony of the wounded. At least the dead had the decency to be silent, despite suffering their stink. Oozing blood, the deathly release of shit and piss overflowed her nose. Suffocated by her own stink of sweat and blood, she tasted it on her dry lips.
Nadiyya’s eyes were shut, her other senses set the scene. The picturesque Dhaar Province in the northeast was ruined by their violence. Sharp and perfect green grass stained with blood, shit and shattered steel. Aches hampered her entire body. Flesh between the gaps of her script strengthened scaled armour stung with closing wounds. Blood dyed her rich under silks. Her drenched khopesh weighed beyond what she was used to. It dragged her arm down, threatening to pull it out her shoulder. She refused to let the blade drop from her grasp.
A chilling early morning gust shifted the battered roaring Sinha helm on her head. It penetrated the script strengthened steel, caressing her cheek with an icy sting. She squeezed her blade’s moist grip and searched for calm with gritted teeth, easing her overstimulated enhanced senses.
Nadiyya trembled, dulling the aches and the taste of blood. The clashing steel, along with the endless anguish, faded to a whisper. Death and decay, blood and shit, the slowly arriving morning died in her nostrils. Her grip slackened and the khopesh slipped. Pride felt a world away in her mind. Here there was true focus, calmness far away from where she existed. A closeness to her Essence.
Blades of grass folded behind her, crunching beneath the weight of boots and lamellar armour. He grunted as he scaled the mound she stood upon, yet she remained focused. On his approach, on his scent, on his need to do harm. Cut off the head, succeed where the ambush failed.
Metal slid from his sheath and a smile stretched her lips, her focus bubbled her blood again. Adrenaline surged within her while he snuck closer, slow and methodical, but in vain. He might have been a hero were she not a Tamer. Worthy to be mentioned amongst Emperor Jun Da’s generals in the war, even if it went ill for the Tigers.
His heartbeat pounded beneath his chest. He paused, searching for his courage perhaps, to spur himself into action. The man stank now, a short charge away from her, through the chaos of death, blood and dying clashes. She suffered his sour musk, the blood his blade stole and the fresh soil his boots kicked up.
The Tiger charged.
Nadiyya remained still, her mind focused on every crunching blade of grass behind her. His armour chimed; his chest heaved with effort. The man had the sense to not scream, at least. It all meant nothing in the end, for his end was inevitable the moment he thought she was an easy target.
A sound spilled from his lips, a grunt before his killing swing. His blade whistled as it sliced the air, downwards into the right side of her neck. Nadiyya moved at last, faster than his eyes discerned, raising her khopesh to deflect. Their steel clashed like a sharp crack of thunder to her Tamer ears. Eyes still closed, she swayed from his forward tumble and sliced off one of his legs.
He gasped as he thudded onto the ground. On his back as the overwhelming scent of rent armour, flesh and fresh flowing blood came over her. Nadiyya’s eyes opened as she stood over him, khopesh raised over her head.
“No,” he groaned, eyes wide, courage gushing from his stump. Then he wailed, the gravity of his foolishness hitting him. “Mercy, by the Beast, mercy!”
Nadiyya’s khopesh came down with all her Tamer strength. Shattering through his lamellar breastplate, making quick work of his ribs and organs. It split his spine and burst through his back, stopped only by the grassy earth it buried itself into. Split in two, his mercy granted. His face was frozen, mouth agape, eyes wide yet lifeless. The pharaoh was remorseless.
Her surroundings exploded into her when her focus broke. Death and decay, amongst the wailing of the dying. Others suffered killing blows. The endless green was ruined, sorry sight for her sobering eyes. Carrion hunting birds darkened the morning sky already. Their predatory pursuit, with ravenous eyes towards the feast below, became rowdy. Squawks and greedy cries called more of their brethren to join in.
Nadiyya’s knees buckled, and she caught herself with her buried khopesh. The dead Tiger emptied his bowels in death, a new stench to punish her. She yanked her blade a few times with depleted arms, while a chilly morning wind worsened the stink. It refused to budge. Her hands were glued to the blade, even as she bent over to catch her breath.
“Fool girl.”
Pride’s bond words battered her mind as if he wasn’t her Tamed Sinha. She grimaced.
“I am fine, am I not?”
“A strong gust of wind away from collapsing is fine to you?”
Pride wasn’t amused, but Nadiyya chuckled.
“Share your strength with me.”
“I should your foolery? I think not.”
“Please! I just want my blade, then you can punish me in whatever manner you deem fit.”
He grumbled at her as he always did when annoyed, then her spine sparkled with strength. She gasped when she was forced upright. Nadiyya freed her khopesh from the Tiger’s corpse, then the surge of strength vanished. At least the impending collapse she feared now faded. The powerful gust Pride warned her about came, reminding her of the roaring Sinha helm hanging off of her head. A flick of her neck and she was free, leaving only the blood and grime stained golden, scaled armour.
Pharaoh Nadiyya stumbled towards a nearby tree, fingering the strengthening script carved into her armour. It was dead and alone amongst bloodstained grass all around, with gnarled limbs hosting taunting birds. She slumped against its bare trunk and dumped her khopesh beside her. The Tiger’s stink lingered, at least his begging stopped. Nadiyya cursed her Tamer senses.
Pride neared her, along with distant cheers. Her victorious Lions, though her wavering heart refused to see this as a victory. Jun Da was no fool, he proved it every day they marched deeper into the Dhaar. He chipped at their advance with a fifth of their numbers, slowing their progress towards Bag’Jagaal. She hoped riding in the vanguard would put an end to the emperor’s ambushes. Until last night, she was right. Perhaps it was time to reconsider the march, though judging by the cheers and Gawahir’s pride, she didn’t expect anyone to agree.
Her eyelids turned to stone when the squawking turned into music. Songbirds sang their appreciation to the Great Beast for another day, drowning out the greed and bringing a slice of peace after the destruction. The gentle breeze caressed her blood-spattered face, sweat stiffened, neck length curls. Nadiyya gave in to her heavy eyes and let them shut.
A moment’s rest, she thought, just a blink.
No!
The approach of clinking scale armour ruined it. A captain’s arrival, though she didn’t know which one just yet.
Wake up!
Nadiyya’s eyes burst open, standing now to face empty darkness instead of the Dhaar Province. Silence. The sole dead tree was gone, along with her khopesh blade. Death and decay replaced by nothingness. Even her bond with Pride felt non-existent, who also vanished. There was only the deep breath of a Feline. It surrounded her with its heaviness, rumbling everything until yellow gold and bloody red filled her vision.
No!
A hand tightened and strangled her heart. She screamed and shut her eyes, denying the memory its return.
“Wake up!”
Her internal scream became a wobbling shriek when she rose from her sweat stained sheet. She shoved aside the thin silk blanket with her throbbing hands. Then snatched beside her and felt no Gawahir, as expected. Nadiyya’s heart twinged all the same, his absence became the norm. Pride’s golden gaze was the only light in her gloomy room. Grey shrouded the night sky, masking the silvery stars.
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Nadiyya lingered in bed, waiting for her blood to cool, and the race in her chest to slow. All while ignoring Pride’s gaze. His concern trickled through their bond, but she was not ready to acknowledge it. Icy gusts forced their way through her open windows, drying her sweat. For once, she welcomed winter’s arrival.
Pharaoh Nadiyya forced her feet into slippers and dragged herself to a side table. Pride’s disapproval kept her away from the wine, and guided her towards the water. It cooled her throat at least, but the second cup worsened the humidity.
Why are these dreams returning? Nadiyya asked herself.
The past refused to release her nearly two decades later. Pride’s old words filled her in the silence, his claim that the Great Beast spoke to her. That was the sort of talk that ushered in the Age of Heresy.
No, not now, not when their lives are changing.
To add this weight on their shoulders when there was still so much to come? No, she would protect them as long as she could. She expected Pride to admonish her, but the words never came.
Nadiyya rushed towards her weapon rack, where the khopesh from her dream collected dust. The bejewelled stand was more resplendent than her two-handed blade. Rubies and yellow topazes embedded in the varnished wood. Script strengthened the silver blade, as well as the golden hilt. There was no gaudy pommel like the gaudy gems on the boys’ blades, only a golden end. It was what her station deserved in truth.
She fingered the fibrous leather wrapping the hilt. Decades of blood, sweat and dirt became one with it. Nadiyya plucked the ruined ribbons off until it unravelled, revealing the smoothed gold figure below. A feminine shape once, though now it was a humanoid blob. An homage to the Tenth Medjay, her ancestor, the woman who single-handedly restored the Aten name.
Nadiyya pinched her arms and found them wanting. No amount of flexing and fist clenching satisfied her. Sleep abandoned her now, the sunrise remained hours away. She snatched the sheath and forced the khopesh into it.
“Well, well, what a turn of events.” Pride sent through their bond after watching her.
“Say what you mean, beast.” Nadiyya smirked when she replied.
She scurried around her room, searching for something appropriate. There was nothing but silk dresses, some leather gifts, gold and bronze jewels. Her eagerness waned.
“You should start with a wooden blade.”
“It has not been that long.”
“An eternity, girl.”
Nadiyya whistled her relief at a mouldy shirt and a rank pair of pants that strangled her legs. Her waist length braid was her only worry now. She stood in front of her mirror, dabbing at the erratic kohl blotches around her eyes. Her sandy umber skin lacked the sun touched darkness from her youth.
“Do you intend to imagine yourself back into fighting shape?”
“I am going!”
Pride stood at her doors when she huffed at him. She strapped the khopesh to her back and the return of her strength began. Her Tamed lowered his enormous figure, and she leapt onto his back. Their connection tingled up her spine, raising her senses beyond their lofty heights for a blink. The fine grains of well-crafted metal snatched her attention towards the armour of a nearby palace guard marching by. Hairline cracks streaked through the grey stonework of the palace’s interior. Then it vanished, leaving behind a freshness akin to a week’s slumber. A moment later, Pride darted towards the fighting rings.
Pharaoh Nadiyya slid off Pride’s back under night’s gloom. The breeze couldn’t decide between stifling humidity or a biting breeze. Lanterns flickered with fading fire light. A palace guard, in pale lamellar, offered to light more. Nadiyya waved her away with a smile, she wasn’t often outside during the sunless hours, it was a nice change. Empty training grounds without a servant or Tamer in sight was a bonus, embarrassing herself with only the black and gold to witness it was enough to stomach.
Dust swirled when she vaulted the low stone wall of the largest fighting ring. The breeze continued its confused blowing, but the air was fresh in her lungs. Nadiyya tingled from her toes to her nose. Eagerness long gone, an imagined crowed mocked her entry. She hadn’t the showmanship the boys possessed.
Her time spent training under the watchful gaze of Nau’Van Garam didn’t attract the attention of others. A girl recently plucked from the streets, with sparring leathers hanging off her poverty-stricken body, was not worth watching. There wasn’t much talent, but she was driven. A chance to leave the squalor was the greatest gift.
Pride grunted aloud as he padded around the ring, sweeping the loose gravel with his mane. Nadiyya inhaled deep. She flexed her wrists, widened her stance, then tightened it. Blood flowed down her thighs and bulged her calves, washing away the pins in her feet. She drew her khopesh and squeezed the hardened hilt.
She shut her eyes. The world disappeared, and Nadiyya began her dance. Only her bond with Pride remained. Pure focus drove her movements, she hacked and swung, jabbed and stabbed. Foreign actions to her limbs at first, though the memories in her muscles tugged at her. It was hesitant, in a true battle, any half decent Tamer would have made quick work of her. Beast, maybe even the most skilled Unblessed as well. Pride nagged at her doubt and poured his encouragement to her.
Her focus didn’t break. Despite her growing frustration. Warmth surged through her arms to smooth her movements. It took her feet no time to remember their use, but her arms were stubborn. The courage returned eventually, soon the wind stood little chance against her attacks.
Sweat rendered her newfound confidence short-lived. Her khopesh slipped from her stinging palms and threw her off balance. Nadiyya wailed aloud when she snatched at the pommel before it flew from her grip. She opened her eyes at Pride’s gold, her khopesh a finger away from his nose.
“New leather, perhaps?”
Nadiyya bit her tongue at his amusement, preventing the shock of how close she was to harming her own Tamed. Her palms were raw, blisters already bubbled at the base off all her fingers. The Sinha was right, as usual, and her warmth faded.
She strangled her bare hilt again, grimacing at the sparking pain. Nadiyya spun away from Pride and danced slowly, her eyes open, her movements truncated. Her focus withered, but she forced herself through it. Every off stomp shuddered her bones, returning her hesitation. Then she stumbled, and it all shattered. She yelled and buried her khopesh into the dirt, until there was only a golden hilt blooming from the shattered soil.
Honeyweed trickled into her nose, and she groaned.
Not now, not now!
Nadiyya yanked her khopesh twice to free it, soil trickled off the flawless, script strengthened blade. Pride’s annoyance through their bond didn’t help, which worsened as the kumkani neared. Lihle’s sandals crunched the stone while he fiddled with his pipe.
“What a lovely surprise, a sunny Lion in the dark,” Lihle said.
There was more than sweetness on him. A scent that was not his own.
“Not your best.”
“Blame the hour,” he yawned as he lit his pipe with a finger. In no time the honeyweed overpowered all. “Trouble sleeping?”
“Seems like that’s what troubles you.”
Lihle smirked at her. A haze of smoke cloaked his perfect face.
“Sinalo possesses an appetite not even I can keep up with, nor does he enjoy my smoke.”
Nadiyya was cold now, not helped by the winter breeze. Her blistered hands were tight, sheathing her khopesh onto her back pained her.
“I fear I’ve interrupted you.”
“It wasn’t important, luckily,” Nadiyya said with a smile.
“Perhaps we could spar?”
“Oh no, please no. I prefer embarrassing myself rather than suffering immense shame by your hand.”
Nadiyya eyed the billao on his waist, and masked a shudder thanks to another chilly gust.
“You are being modest.”
“Honest, I would say,” she vaulted the wall and inhaled his honeyweed. “Forgive me, I wish to have an early start to the day.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Lihle bowed low.
She strode away with Pride beside her, feeling the kumkani’s eyes peel her back. Nadiyya clutched her braid, and fed her irritation into her grimy curls. They weighed a ton upon her head, tempting her to rip them out from their roots.
“Any return, even a clumsy one, warms me child,” Pride said.
“Clumsy? Have I not been shamed enough?”
He snorted aloud.
They entered the vastness of the crystalline great hall and a hollow hush came over her. Fiery light flickered on every second column, but her eyes darted towards the sliver of light glowing through the shut doors of the war room. A pair of palace guards stood on either side. Her mood sunk the longer she stared.
“You have fought enough.” Pride said.
She sighed. Nadiyya ignored her stung heart and resumed her walk while her mind did its best to crumble.