The towns around the borders of Cali'Aaraam did not lift them. Their bustling, joyous activity was more a nuisance for the dour mood that stank their quartet. Prince Zaki was certain the others did not know. Though he assumed they suspected something.
She seldom spoke, and Dawn was relentless in reminding him why. His invasion, his uncalled-for memory walking of the master Tamer. Out of his control, he often said to his Tamed Sinha. But the beast wouldn’t hear it.
It wasn't her silence or the fact that he saw what wasn't for him. It was Anele’s reaction that perturbed him. After the impotent slap, there wasn’t anger, no enraged shouting. She was ashamed. That was his drive to rectify his actions, more than seeing what he shouldn’t have seen, involuntarily, or any of his supposed affronts against her.
Eyes from the townsfolk swarmed upon them as they trotted along the busy clay stone roads. Their awe filled opinions flittered into his ears, but Zaki’s attention was far away. Ahead, towards Master Anele, leading them through the well-dressed throng. Jazmin’s eyes peeled back the mystery that she was so desperate to uncover.
Dawn’s anger exploded through him as was customary, a promise until he did as she demanded. Zaki shifted his attention to the vibrant colour of the town. The vast open grasslands between grand homesteads with wondrously painted walls. Thatched roofs were rare, tiles were commonplace.
The ogling people wore nothing less than silks, and precious metals glittered under the winter sunlight. They painted their faces with the dust of precious jewels. There was even a bit of gold dust on some chiselled cheeks.
It wasn’t long until the fortifications he expected at their arrival to the towns, which he didn’t know the names of, appeared ahead. Low palisades and sharpened stakes wrapped around solitary watchtowers of imposing stone. Filled with a handful of angry eyed archers, watchful of their surroundings.
The fiery sunset cast its wonderful colours on the rising walls of Cali’Aaraam. As sandy brown and towering as the capital’s own. Painted shapes blotched it at random. Soldiers patrolled in great numbers atop the walls, pausing often to frown down from their high vantage.
The towering iron gilded main gate appeared behind a heavy presence of Cali Cituva soldiers in iron reinforced leathers and shields. Axes and swords were commonplace amongst them, as well as mistrusting eyes. They shuffled into position on either side of the road. The landscape surrounding the hold of the Cheetah Clan was open.
There weren’t any natural defences to his eye. Its vastness engulfed the eastern horizon entirely, and they were still a few hundred metres from the open gate. If it wasn’t for the surrounding towns, well, there would be nothing to keep massive armies from swarming around its walls.
Anele dismounted and waited before the gates, her arms crossed, pacing before her lounging Tamed.
“We must wait,” she snapped, and avoided his gaze. They all dismounted before her, but peered through the gates into the bustling city.
The gate courtyard was awash in rainbow colours from the clay stone homes around its borders. If he thought the townsfolk passing by were wealthy, they were nothing compared to the city folk that sauntered around the courtyard. They wore more gold than silk, swarmed in jewels and glittered under the setting sun.
“What are we waiting for?” Jazmin yawned.
“The steward.”
It wasn’t a long wait, but it felt an eternity with Anele avoiding and Jazmin the complete opposite. Master Sinalo seemed a forgotten companion amongst them. He drew the eyes of a few Cheetahs lining the street behind them. Yawning and shifting on his feet while he waited, arms behind his back.
It wasn’t the steward who arrived, judging by the Tamer’s plain leathers. She whipped off her helm to reveal a head of blond dyed hair. Streaked in the shape of jagged claws, creating a beautiful pattern upon her scalp. Her hazel eyes jumped on each of them before falling on Anele.
“Master Anele, Inkokeli Bhekani is ready for you. Mount up, time is against us.”
The Tamer donned her helm again and skipped back onto her lean Tamed. It seemed there were more trees and open fields than grand, sprawling and wealthy homesteads.
The roads of Cali’Aaraam were wide and polished. Torches flickered with bright fire, lighting the picturesque wealth. And it was all wealth within the city. Homesteads crowded with silk clad, bejewelled dwellers, lounging beside shaded pools filled with splashing children.
Cali Cituva lay beneath short, grand trees with winding limbs stretching wide. Golden and sometimes blood-red eyes blinked in their direction as night fell.
They wound around lone watchtowers and more vast swathes of rolling plains, with brightly lit ponds and more Cali Cituva on their banks.
He expected a rise on their way to the palace. Somehow, the city remained flat right until the next set of walls that ringed the palace homestead. The painted shapes on it were plain compared to what came before.
They dismounted and circled around the heavily guarded walls towards the sturdy gate. Iron gilded with Tamers standing guard, in bulky iron armour. The pair bowed after opening the grand gate to reveal an enormous courtyard of grass, wood, and stone. Fresh dark thatch covered all the grand buildings within, contrasting against the sunset painted walls.
Zaki frowned at it all. There was obvious beauty with the natural vibrancy of the surrounding gardens as well. Yet there was a remarkable plainness about. At least compared to the rest of the colourfully painted city. Bland, sturdy and functional, as functional as a palace homestead could be, but tame.
A man stood in the stony courtyard. Swarmed by the gardens and shadowed by the bland yet grand palace. A man whose appearance was wealthier than anything within the royal courtyard. He wore more jewels than silks, smelling of sweet clay and flowers. His fingers and toes sparkled with precious jewels. Every subtle move jingled all the precious metals decorating his body.
“Welcome Prince, and masters,” the man bowed after a toothy grin. His arms were wide and open to match the sincere words floating in Zaki’s ears.
“I trust the journey has taken its toll, especially with the speed demanded by it.”
Zaki had never seen such well-groomed short hair before, a beard so organised and glistening with oil.
“Please enjoy the hospitality of the palace homestead, and if you so wish, the city of Cali’Aaraam with one of our many guides or Tamers within.”
Servants glided out from behind the doors and open entrances. Their colourful cloth streamed off their capable bodies as they approached. Most of the others lit the surrounding torches, brightening the palace further just as night fell.
“Ask if there is more you need. I am Inkokeli Bhekani. Bathe, rest, and await my call for supper. There are words we must share.”
Prince Zaki savoured his bath, sinking deep in the cool water, for the night was warm. Despite the air swirling around his vast room. Lumko, the man who led him to his room, claimed it was because of the special soil used to cement the walls. But said nothing more on the matter. Zaki didn’t delve further. Clan secrets were a touchy subject, and he assumed this was one of them.
Dawn did her best to shatter his relaxed bathing, barraging relentlessly until he apologised. She grumbled at the foot of his grand bed, glaring with her golden eyes. It lingered even as he stood nude to dry himself. They rushed to fetch his armour for cleaning, though it didn’t seem necessary. His underclothes were waiting for him after his bath and soon he strode behind Lumko again. Khopesh strapped to his waist, his ironvine ring on his finger and a fresh scent wafting off him.
The palace was open and welcomed nature that wasn’t hibernating into the palace grounds. It wasn’t as cool as he hoped, though traveling south only guaranteed more warmth. Thankfully, the capital’s humidity didn’t travel with them.
The blandness of the exterior didn’t continue to the interior. Wondrous tapestries and carvings of wood decorated the passageways. Stories decorated the walls, depicting lavishly coloured inkosi of the past, facing off against grand, strange beasts, both dark and gold, with nothing but their bare hands.
Some wrestled, others raised their hands and willed their beastly opponents to submission. He racked his mind for an answer, anything to explain the strange multi-limbed monstrosities. It never came, but it made for a fine spectacle along the journey.
The lack of guards was also strange. The only people he saw were servants, and finely dressed nobles. At least, he assumed, for they glittered with as many precious metals as the inkokeli. Lumko muttered some words he didn’t pay attention to and opened the doors into a grand and open dining hall.
Dawn lingered in his room, still exploding with anger through their bond. Spices and warmth wafted into his nose as he approached the quaint dining table. The wood was exquisite, in a shape he couldn’t make out. Anele, Jazmin and Sinalo waited, leaving two empty chairs.
Jazmin and Sinalo rushed to their feet. Their Tamed lounged in corners, eyeing him with their golden gazes. Anele was slower to rise, but she did, avoiding his gaze, still not as angry as he hoped.
“Where is the inkokeli?” Zaki asked as he took the seat beside Jazmin.
“On his way,” the archivist replied.
The silence made his skin crawl after they sat back down. Anele’s eyes lingered down at her lap, while Sinalo admired the winding wood amongst the stone. It held up the woven thatch above them.
“We shouldn’t linger. Every day we wait gives the emperor more time to destroy the capital.”
“Time is not so against us as you might believe,” Sinalo replied. “The emperor needs to convince the chief before he marches for the capital. Three slow armies.”
“And we must arrive before the emperor does with two armies ourselves.”
Anele and Sinalo shared a look that worried the prince. He glanced at Jazmin, who was looking at him with subtle interest.
“Have I missed something?”
“Prince, our mission wasn’t to prevent the emperor’s siege, but to break it before Bil’Faridh is under his control.”
Zaki couldn’t continue, for the inkokeli arrived, along with the food he smelled before. Bhekani was as garish as when he greeted them. He beamed while the servants laid out a feast fit for double their number. There was sizzling beef drowning in black pepper. A grand bowl of thick samp and beans accompanied other bowls of cheesy spinach and sweet mashed pumpkin. Steamed bread, jugs of wine, beer and water.
“Please don’t wait on my account, enjoy!”
The food was enjoyable, though he ate everything sparingly, for his anxiety grew. It didn’t sit well with him that the capital’s destruction was inevitable. His mind knew it to be true, but to hear it from the master Tamers somehow soured the idea.
Zaki’s eyes jumped on them all. Jazmin and Sinalo glowed with enjoyment while they ate, but Anele was jabbing at her food. Near to his sinking dour, in fact.
“How long will it take to muster?”
“A week,”
“A week?”
“At most, Prince,” Inkokeli Bhekani waved a ringed hand to reassure him. “If you so wish to move early, the Tamers should gather in two days and your ride southwest will be a swift one.”
“I do not think separating our forces will be wise, though things may change in two days,” Master Sinalo offered.
“What is your advice?” Master Anele asked.
“The emperor’s eyes have reached this far south east. We captured one, but her words warned of many more.”
“Have you heard of others?”
“Whispers, rumours, much I’ve judged to be little more than fear mongering. But we cannot abandon caution. We must assume the emperor is watching at all times, perhaps not within our walls, but on the exterior. Once you depart, we should assume the scrutiny to be at its worst.”
“It almost sounds like you’re advocating for a split in the army,” Master Sinalo frowned at the inkokeli, who then shifted his gaze onto the prince.
“It would aid in throwing off whatever knowledge they might garner from us.”
“The sooner we can leave, the better,” Zaki grunted after a morsel. Master Anele looked at him. A flash, really, but she spun away.
Hesitation soiled the flavourful aroma of their feast, but no one spoke. The food was untouched for a moment.
“A decision a couple of days away I think,” Inkokeli Bhekani rushed to break the hesitation and allowed for the resumption of their supper. “Enjoy, rest, and explore until then. Think not of Tigers’ eyes.”
Prince Zaki paced the length of his vast room. Much to Dawn’s amusement, which was a joy. For she relented her raging barrage. It stilled his anxiety. His gifted slippers appreciated it.
“This is new for you,” Zaki mocked through their bond.
“I am tired of expecting the best from you. It helps that I know you will do it.”
“How would you know that?”
Dawn snorted aloud at him and buried her face back down. Her snoring followed soon after. Alone once more in his dimly lit room. The palace was asleep. There were a few passing slippers, but nothing more. Not even a guard.
His khopesh leant against a bedside table, the clothes they gifted lay in a pile on another table. His scrubbed armour glimmered in all its glory on a new rack in another corner. The novelty of his title wore off, and the armour lost its glow along with it.
Zaki’s mind drowned in the information. Spies and an army. Master Anele would be their true general, but being the prince put him above all, regardless of him being a Lion. Thousands of lives were in his hands, and he needed everyone on his side to do their duty.
The prince fiddled with his ironvine ring. The gold glowed as he strode for his room’s exit. He was in the middle of his passage, enjoying the cool late-night breeze wafting through and around the wooden columns. When he paused, he realised he didn’t know where to go.
He nibbled his lip as he peered down dim passageways and listened as much as he could for any clues. Zaki wandered while his determination faded. His free hand glued to the ironvine ring.
Evergreen sweetness wafted into his nose from the blooming gardens nearby. He meandered now, admiring the carvings on the walls with distracted eyes.
Zaki found a golden figure standing above others. Arms aloft and shining like the sun. The sun burst from behind the figure. He confused himself the longer he stared at it. What was obvious were the opponents melting before the blazing sun.
Boots approached towards the left, but his eyes remained fixed on the scene. It was oddly familiar. Perhaps it was the sun, perhaps there was a connection to Atum Ra?
Zaki’s head darted to the left, catching Anele’s approach. Her shoulders slouched and eyes fixed down on her boots.
“Master Anele,” he said, and she slid to a halt, eyes downcast. “Have I… is this a bad time?”
“No, I was making my way back.”
Her lack of scent was troubling.
“I would like to apologise.”
“There is no need.”
“I was too forward, forceful, delved where I shouldn’t have.”
“It’s fine Prince, really. The harm has passed,” her smile failed to convince him.
“Listen,” he restarted, reaching out for her. He snatched his hand back. She wrapped both behind her back. He convinced himself it was purposeful, and not rectifying a fearful flinch. His chest filled with tainted warmth.
“This isn't just courtesy?”
“I will not abandon my duty towards you, Prince.”
“I know I haven’t shown a sufficient lack of naivety towards you, but I know duty is not enough. If there is lingering animosity, say it.”
Master Anele looked up at him with more than her avoidant attitude. Her scar denting the right side of her face with its paleness perspired. Once again, she gave away no scent, but he was glad the recent shame vanished.
Her eyes lingered while deep in thought. He wondered what words would follow, if her dismissiveness would return. All the while not backing down, focusing his mismatched eyes on her.
Instead, she nodded, then lingered for him to say more. The surprise of her satisfied scent stole his tongue for the moment. He stepped aside.
He watched as she strode away, upright once more, and enjoyed Dawn’s trickling approval through their bond. Zaki fiddled with his ironvine ring and turned back towards the carving of the golden figure, exploding with sunlight.
It was a luxurious slumber. One he didn’t realise he missed until he awoke in the soft embrace of his grand mattress. The plush feather stuffed bed begged him to stay when he rose. The gentle sheets caressed him, clinging to his sweat beaded flesh as he stood and stretched the remnants of his fatigue away.
His bath and breakfast arrived soon after, as well as Lumko, Zaki asked for his guide’s return. The morning was warm, with the occasional briskness slicing its way through the openings of his vast room.
He bathed and dressed in plain cloth, ochre gold. These Cheetahs knew his colours. The oats were warm and filling, sweetened by the apple slices, and improved by the sprinkled cinnamon.
Zaki strapped his khopesh to his waist. He departed while servants cleared his room. His ironvine ring hidden beneath the pale gloves he wore. There was no need to repeat his mistaken delving like with Anele. Dawn padded along behind.
“You never told me what that was,” Zaki muttered through their bond as he followed Lumko around the open passageways.
“You never asked.”
Zaki nodded at a few of silk dressed nobles sauntering by, enjoying their awe filled whispers of his golden eye.
“A chance to secure a stronger alliance?” Dawn asked.
“Do not change the subject. What was, what did I do to her?”
“I only know it as memory walking.”
Zaki waited for her to elaborate, but it never came. He walked along another garden courtyard path towards the rear gate. Tamed lounged amongst the lush greens and blooming flowers. The skeletal yellowwoods were enough to prove these gardens were not pieces of Sanctuary.
Lumko paused before the double doors, a Tamer lounging against it, stood upright and taut. Mostly for the prince, but Zaki’s attention was not on her.
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“Where to Prince?”
“The mustering grounds.”
Lumko frowned at his reply, and he caught scratches of hazel in the man’s dark eyes.
“Wherever the soldiers are gathering.” Zaki said.
“Forgive me, Prince, it is not ignorance that hinders me. I expected a different location.”
“Am I not permitted?”
“No, no such thing, again forgive me.” Zaki noticed his eyes linger on his golden right eye before a smile enhanced his handsomeness. “Very well. It is not far.”
The gate lay open, and the Tamer bowed at the prince as they departed the palace homestead. Engulfed in the sunny gloom of the city, which was growing in noise towards the west.
Lumko turned east and Prince Zaki made out the silhouette of grand stone seats rising high ahead. A flicker of familiarity hit him, which fluttered his heart as they neared it. This was the stadium he saw in Anele’s memories.
The grand stonework rose ahead, but it was the general buzz from within that hit him first. He couldn’t discern his reality from Anele’s memories. Zaki dug his nails into his palms when the flashes of her fight came to him. The pools of blood stinging her face.
“Prince?”
Zaki jumped when Lumko frowned back at him. His mismatched eyes jumped around. The streets were quiet; the homesteads were vast and colourful, with none of the dwellers revealing themselves.
“Trouble?”
“No, not at all. I’m not used to such attentive hands.”
“If I have caused any offence, Prince, please,”
“No offence, not at all.” Zaki’s eyes narrowed, studying the Cheetah from head to toe. His cloth was sturdy, yet rich for a man of his station. Unless the inkosi paid his palace servants well. From the little he knew of Inkosi Musa, that wasn’t likely.
“May I ask a question?”
“Of course, Prince.”
They resumed their slow stride towards the grandness ahead. Zaki’s eyes lingered on Lumko, the pale indentations on his capable fingers. Hints of scars marked his limbs. An idea crept into him.
“The palace was not on your horizon in years past, correct?”
“An astute observation,” Lumko said. There was a hint of grief marking Lumko’s scent. Zaki left it alone.
Their slow crawl continued in silence until the homes faded. The streets of clay stone continued. Old blood filled his nose, and decay, as they approached the towering walls of the stadium. Of pale ochre stone, dusty in the breeze. With cloth sheets overhanging the seats high above.
“I was lucky,” Lumko half whispered as they circled around the exterior. “I still am, recovering well and finding new meaning.”
Lumko trailed off again, with the noise of hundreds, perhaps thousands, beyond the walls of the stadium filling their ears. It wasn’t the braying his mind imagined, stolen from Anele’s memories.
“Have you any knowledge of the loss of a Tamer’s Tamed?”
“Common knowledge,” Zaki said, eyeing the aged, dusty stone of the stadium’s exterior. He peered through the gaps where people would line up.
“One thing to know, another to experience.”
“Great Beast,” Zaki gasped, snatched away from his admiration. “Forgive me, I didn’t realise it was so grave.”
“There is nothing to forgive, Prince. It has been two decades since they took Maira from me. Though the pain never leaves you, I am accustomed to it.”
Zaki shuddered once he heard the beast’s name aloud. The chill of the grave shot through his spine. He almost apologised for his fear.
It wasn’t often that Ma spoke of losing your Tamed. Tamers did not talk about that. He met no one who lived through such a loss. They usually relayed these experiences through rumour. Tamers often followed their Tamed into death.
“The palace and the duty it provided were a comfort. I’m glad I followed it.”
“You were a soldier before?”
“Maira asked for it,” Lumko’s chuckle terrified Zaki. “I know. It is a strange thing to claim. But I swear to you I heard her voice through the severed remnants of our bond. Your heightened senses become a curse. You taste grief. Your body is ever in pain and your mind yearns for release without end. To push beyond it is a special thing, however, the toughest fight that no challenging dual wielder could match. An army of Jian the Dark against you, yet somehow, I survived. Madness, the more I think about it, it was all madness.”
Claws tightened around Zaki’s throat while he listened, squeezing until only whistling air passed through. He crossed his fingers; he fidgeted his fingers, anything to ward off this strange fear. Dawn did her best to reassure him through their bond. She stood a little closer when he glanced back.
It seemed wrong to speak such things, for it made them real. Of course, it was real, Lumko spoke it, lived it, but his mind refused to accept it. Life without Dawn was impossible. Their bond was, he didn’t have the words. It was only weeks ago they bonded, yet it was a bond that felt generational. Zaki stifled the shivers running riot through him.
“Here we are. Do you wish me to wait for your return?”
“Wait,” he blurted out now that they paused before the entrance, where soldiers in iron reinforced leathers stood upright and ready. “Thank you, that will be it. I know my way back.”
Lumko bowed and departed, never losing his sincere smile. Zaki’s fear beat out his curiosity. There was more he wanted to know, but he was worried about the same. Ma jested she would go with Pride, should their demise be certain. He was confused when he first heard it, perturbed by her sudden gloom, but now he understood. He wiped his heart with a jackal’s head, made with his hand.
Zaki walked through the grand entrance of the stadium, that appeared to be a recent addition to the sandy exterior. The fresh wood of the grand open gates filled his nose, along with the shaved stone that gave way to it.
Cheetahs stood guard on either side. Dawn remained close, so his hand scratched behind her ears. Her worry infected him, but it wasn’t entirely her doing. He couldn’t ward off any more of Lumko’s words. His voice echoed in his mind.
Rows of tents swarmed the arena. Where Cheetahs in armour that better fitted their duties roamed and mingled. They trained in groups or sat around campfires, chattering away. He noticed a lack of Tamed in the dusty arena, save for three, standing in a group to his right.
Jazmin was the first to acknowledge him, smiling before frowning. Dressed in unusually formal silks for herself, but without precious jewels. Master Anele was another, but it was her Tamed who turned to face him, glaring with its yellow gold.
The last one was one he didn’t recognise, with polished bronze inlaid with streaks of gold. He wore a cloak of orange ochre, and his helm rested beneath his arm. With narrow eyespots mimicking the black stripes of a Cali Cituva. His hazel-green eyes fell upon him, and Zaki approached.
“Prince,” the Cheetah greeted with gruff respect. Anele fed him little more than a glance. “I was about to share our current numbers. I am Captain Owethu.”
“I see some hundreds here already,” Zaki replied, after nodding at his introduction.
“Two thousand eight hundred, to be exact. The rest will come, the inkokeli favour pride. Though we have no cause to believe they will all disobey.”
“Some will?”
“It’s not uncommon. Some, not enough to affect our numbers, keep to themselves. Inkokeli Mandla sends Two thousand. Another seven hundred and fifty from Inkokeli Lindiwe should arrive by nightfall.”
“Total count?” Master Anele asked.
“Twelve thousand and more, perhaps more, definitely not less. We should be ready to march after a week.”
“Tamers?”
“Eight hundred strong expected, a quarter I believe are dark Tamers,” Owethu hesitated for a moment. “We can make preparations for an early march with the Tamers, Prince?”
“That is yet to be decided.” Anele blurted. “You’re dismissed Captain, return if you have any more news.”
Captain Owethu glanced at Zaki, then nodded before departing. His slender yet rippled Tamed skipped after him. Zaki waited until the captain was out of earshot before turning towards Anele.
“I thought Sinalo deserved an opinion before we decide,” Anele beat him to it. “At least ponder on it until tonight.”
Zaki glanced at Jazmin, who was a silent observer all this time, but her magnificence gave him nothing besides passivity. He sighed and nodded at Master Anele. The Cheetah spun on her heels and strode in the captain's wake, into the sea of tents.
“You two seemed to have mended things,” Jazmin muttered with a smirk.
“What gives you that impression?”
“The lack of tension, for one. Your calmness at her overstepping her duty, for another, shall I continue?”
Prince Zaki grunted; his attention already removed from the Cheetahs gathered in the arena. Jazmin’s eyes lingered on the Tamers, beyond his own enhanced vision.
“We must talk,” Zaki said, and Jazmin renewed her smirk with a hint of mischief this time.
“Indeed?”
“With fewer ears,” he nodded for the exit. He took a couple of steps before Jazmin followed.
Zaki eyed the roads leading away from the vast gate. He turned left into an open, structureless area of the city. The walls were close to where he paused.
His true intentions eluded him when he gazed down into her hazel eyes. She relinquished the smirk and chose a warm smile instead. Their mood during the ride for Cali’Aaraam felt an age ago. The words struggled on his lips, and he replaced them with others when Dawn’s worry shifted into mockery through their bond.
“I will need your support later.”
“Oh, I didn’t realise my current duty provided me with a voice?”
“Please, I’ve had days to accept my wounded pride and see your presence for what it is. I will need your voice when I speak for riding with the Tamers.”
“I’m no general, Prince, my voice matters little in such matters, I am here to observe and,”
“You have never used a pen.”
“There are many ways to scribe, Prince. The ink on paper comes at the very end,” her smirk returned. “A duty, might I add, you are keeping me from.”
“What business have you observing Cheetahs?”
“Prince, is this really why you pulled me away from unwanted ears?”
Zaki hesitated again. Words flirted with the back of his throat like bitter bile waiting to spew. Jazmin raised a brow at him and her smirk widened before she turned away.
“Wait,” he finally managed, and she turned towards him. Dawn’s mocking chuckles haunted his mind. “There is something else, a private matter. One that I’m, well, I’m not sure if I should say.”
Jazmin’s face turned serious. It didn’t lose the smile entirely, but the levity faded. Her teasing was now long forgotten, but the friendliness remained, which was encouraging enough.
“What do you know of Tamer abilities?”
“As much as most Tamers,” Jazmin shrugged. There was a strange scent about her.
There is more, must be. She is a scribe, of course. She must have read something.
“What do you know of memory walking?”
“Why do you ask?”
“It is a simple question.”
Jazmin’s lips twitched. He caught sharp scented anger from her, slicing through his nose for a moment, before it vanished.
“Power is earned, Prince,” she made to turn away, but Zaki reached for her. Jazmin jumped, and the anger returned when her hazel eyes blazed towards him.
“I only meant to stop you.”
“Power is earned!”
Her eyes narrowed towards his gloved hand while the angry scent emanated from her. It waned when she looked into his mismatched eyes, her mind churning. Yet Jazmin departed before another word came. Her Tamed’s golden gaze hovered for a moment before following. Zaki didn't want to stop her.
“Well, that was not entirely awful,” Dawn chuckled.
Prince Zaki returned to the palace homestead and kept to himself. Away from the chance of bumping into Anele and Jazmin, who he assumed were still in the arena. He lingered in the garden courtyards, avoiding the lounging nobles on the lush grass and shaded benches. A few glanced in his direction, but he was gone before their curious mutters reached him.
Zaki strode along the white pebbled path between gardens towards the sound of orders and youthful grunts. Evergreen petals caressed his curly head as he came across a small wooden fighting stage. A trio stood in its centre. Two children, drenched in their own efforts, panted across from each other. Their crude cloth clung to their umber skin.
“Switch!” the woman watching over them boomed.
The pair rushed down to the wooden staves at their ankles, replacing their wooden swords. Their dark eyes were similar, curvaceous. After the initial cracks of their blows, he also decided they were Tamers in training.
“Lunga, defend only,” the woman commanded, circling around them with her arms crossed. The boy gritted his teeth and was noticeably slower.
Their trainer was rather stout, muscles bulged beneath her tight cloth. Brown beads decorated her thick dreads, clattering quietly every time they clashed.
“Push Nandi, push!”
The girl pulled a face as she quickened her offence, but her dark eyes seemed elsewhere. They couldn’t have been older than twelve.
“Flip!”
A moment’s hesitation later, Nandi was backpedalling against Lunga’s offence. Though it wasn’t long until they were both panting again, and their movements slowed. Fatigue weighed on each swing. Zaki spotted the quivering in their thighs, but the children kept going.
Their sparring continued for an impressive length after he thought their fatigue would win. When the end came, the children were huffing and using their polearms to remain upright.
“Good! That’s enough. You may go now and tell your father I wish to speak with him tonight.”
“Thank you, Master Nomandla,” the children muttered between heavy breaths. They bowed, nodded at Prince Zaki, then scurried away.
“Impressive enough for your eyes, Prince?” Master Nomandla asked while picking up the abandoned wooden weapons.
“How old are they?”
“Nandi is ten, Lunga twelve. Their greatest trait, however, Unblessed parents.”
“That is quite the story,” Zaki approached. Her perfume of winter flowers was sweet, faded by perspiration, but gentle on his nose all the same. “A good thing they have a master Tamer to guide them.”
“You’re too kind, Prince, truly.” Her smile was infectious, but Zaki’s attention snapped towards her approaching Tamed Cali Cituva. Its lean limbs rippled with muscles to match its Tamer. The black stripes on the beast’s face heightened its intimidation, its orange gold gaze fixed on him. “They are the precious metal. All I do is shape them.”
“An able smith.”
Master Nomandla smirked and turned away, but her scent revealed her appreciation.
“Who trained yourself, might I ask?”
“The Tamer’s Council, when they were still operating.”
“Still operating? They do not anymore?”
“Oh, forgive me Prince, it was quite the scandal. The betrayal was large and led to their disbandment. It isn’t for me to say, out of respect for the inkosi.” She hesitated, then cleared her throat. “Have the Lions maintained their Council?”
“We have, hence my surprise, though I would argue they serve a role as useful as your disbanded one.”
“Times have changed Prince; the Order of the Nine Lives has no influence any longer. The storied past of Tamer’s Councils guiding clans remains history.”
“Once the war is done, there will be repair work for the rest of the clans. We have become too separated,” Zaki mused as another entered the vicinity. The hard faced yet ever calm Master Sinalo.
“Optimistic words Prince.”
“There’s no time to be anything else. Excuse me, Master,” Zaki moved from one to another.
Master Sinalo nodded towards her before she departed, then gave the prince his full attention.
“Enjoying the palace grounds, Prince?”
“We must speak,” Zaki began. “I want to leave as soon as possible.”
“I see you’ve taken the news about the emperor’s spies well.”
“I’m serious. My gut tells me we shouldn’t delay. There is still the matter of crossing Sanctuary’s Merudanda to fetch the Leopards. We shouldn’t lose the speed from our departure of the capital.”
Master Sinalo scratched his chin and wrapped his arms studiously. It reminded him of the kumkani.
“Who will lead the foot soldiers? And what of their journey through the Merud? Who will guide them through those treacherous paths?”
“We send them back along the cheetah road, and meet the capital from the east. From there, those who remained can decide their fates.”
“But Prince, the pharaoh,”
“I know what my father said, but,” Zaki bit his tongue before he spoke ill of the man. He sighed his frustrations away before resuming. “I dislike what this talk of the emperor’s madness has done to our judgement. Perhaps he was erratic to start this war, but that does not mean the man is incapable of ending it.”
It was a relief to speak his mind about the war. The audience wasn’t who he desired, but anyone would do now. A lightness filled his chest, aided by the vibrant colours of the falling sun above, setting ablaze the evergreen gardens of the palace.
Zaki glanced at Master Sinalo’s studious pose and noticed a lack of resistance against his words.
“We should tell Master Anele.”
“We shall, though she heard much of it already. Tonight, we must speak with the inkokeli.”
Zaki loitered in the torch-lit open passageways of the palace, admiring another set of painted carvings on the wall. A hulking figure in black stood with their arms stretched on either side. Tendrils of darkness eked from both of the open palms into dark Cali Cituva. Eyes of bloody red and faces decorated with orange stripes. The beasts were crouched, baring their fangs, struggling perhaps. Or leashed. It was a challenge to assume on the static image.
He reluctantly found Lumko again, when night fell over Cali’Aaraam. Before their dinner together, he needed the answers he had failed to gain from Jazmin. His guide made traversing the beautiful clay stone maze a swift one, but now he stood alone, searching for his courage in the carved murals.
Dawn lounged at his ankles, huffing her warm breath upon his shin.
Perhaps the figure is healing the dark beasts?
He wasn’t sure if dark Tamers possessed healing hands. What else could it be, for what Tamer would attack beasts?
“Enough boy, go find the girl already!” Dawn moaned through their bond.
Zaki jumped in stride and rounded the last corner into the passageway leading to her quarters. He puffed out his chest, fiddling with the ironvine ring beneath his gloves. The brisk chill of the night did its best to slice through his cloth. Warmth surged as he neared Jazmin’s doors. The flickering candles on the columns brightened, and in no time, his hand rose. A tension releasing exhalation later, he wrapped his knuckles gently on the ornate wood.
“I thought you would barge in,” Jazmin chuckled from beyond her door. “Come in.”
It was warm within her cosy quarters. Closed off unlike his own four walls, but not any less beautiful. Leafy plants bloomed from clay pots in every corner. Of many hues and sizes.
“I thought we would all be meeting in the hall as planned?” Jazmin smiled in a figure-hugging linen dress. It was sheer and pale ochre. “Or would you like to accompany me?”
Her humour faded when he didn’t share in it. He hoped his expression wasn’t anything too harsh, but her own hardened into passivity. There was a subtle glitter of gold on her cheeks, heightening her fiery hazel eyes.
“You heal me in my sleep. You immolate without struggle and infer the possibility of more within yourself. Yet when I inquire upon a Tamer ability, you dismiss me with a phrase that I’m quickly becoming sickened by.”
“Power is earned, Prince,” Jazmin spoke, firm but quiet.
“And I have earned it, but I wish to learn.”
“Do you know why it must be earned, Prince? Because we are dangerous already without these abilities. A simple push could end a poor soul’s life, an unintentionally angry swipe, and you maim a stranger without cause. Imagine the consequences of an uncontrollable immolation. What then?”
“I earned it, damn you!”
“You earned nothing, you discovered, nothing more.”
“I am unworthy of such abilities, then?”
“It isn’t about you alone!” Jazmin caught herself before her anger reached treacherous heights. “You cannot imagine the accounts of the world before we made ourselves accountable. Power is earned Zaki, then valued and used with caution. Power is earned through self-control, if not well, then one less destroyer to abuse it. By only the love the pharaoh has for you, beyond duty, one might say breaking it, you’re still alive.”
“A harsh price to pay for curiosity, which is often done by mistake.”
“There are worse payments that it will never force us to suffer,” there was pain in her voice. When Zaki fought his own anger, ignored her disrespect, he tasted it on her scent.
“Are you able to break what duty demands of you?” Her eyes widened at his venom. “I know my mother. I know there were tasks she asked. Are you willing to go against them?”
“The pharaoh asks too much,”
“But she asks, not for herself, and duty demands it of you. Surely you see the value in that.”
Jazmin sighed; her shoulders slumped. Her eyes glittered, but her scent gave nothing away.
“All I want is your help, your knowledge that you cling so greedily to.”
“This is manipulation,”
“This is duty! I’m not your lover, I am your prince. The pharaoh asked it of you, and I do too. If you need time to see it, I will grant it, but I expect no resistance anymore.”
They stood together in silence, his chest ablaze in order to mask his racing heart from her enhanced ears. The last thing he needed was to undermine himself with his emotions. Her Tamed growled under its breath at her, and lady Isis appeared to shrink further.
“Prince General indeed,” it was little more than a squeak, and he read humour rather than spite from it.
“A stepping stone towards pharaoh,” Prince Zaki offered his arm to Jazmin, and she took it without hesitation. “I will not waste the efforts that paved this road for me. Pharaoh Zaki Atum Ra, I must acclimate myself to it soon enough.”