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Necropolis
Chapter VIII ♠ Isle Of The Maimed

Chapter VIII ♠ Isle Of The Maimed

Nyeusi, who wanted to ensure his animal got enough rest, did not intend to return to the isle until the following day.

There were over a hundred miles between him and its coastline and roughly seven miles of sea between it and the mainland.

He hadn’t flown toward the isle in months, but he remembered how to get there as well as if he’d traveled to it yesterday. Being a man about town, so to speak, he also knew where it was safe to land to rest while en route to his intended destination.

He paced himself well, thereby avoiding overtaxing his or his beast’s energy. In time they arrived at the coastline, and the stupendous animal took him over the sea.

They headed east of the Bay of the Maimed upon reaching the isle’s coastline. This bay was the main port of entry where recalcitrant immortals were later transported to the Dark Cliffs, a stretch of precipitous rock along the other side of the isle.

Its span was close to twelve miles. The highest point was nearly five hundred feet above sea level. Its rocky terrain jutted out from the ocean floor at close to ninety degrees.

Nyeusi intended to take the most direct path toward Lucirion, which is where the City of the Damned or home of the dark lords, Shetani condemned to a life of immortality, was located.

He loathed that place, more so than he did Yagan or the Valley of Death. Their landscape was similar, and the darkest of clouds seldom ever left the area.

In view facing those who approached was a volcano yonder that appeared hell-bent on erupting but never did. The ash it spewed was chiefly why the sky often appeared dark.

The air always had a smoky smell yet somehow, the Shetani chose this location above all else on the island to have the main base.

They were hardly ever out in the elements to enjoy it, for the City of the Damned was principally below ground, carved out of the bedrock. At times, above ground, the color of its skies was orange/red.

The silhouette of flying kilmans was a common sight on the horizon. The isle was one of their mating and breeding grounds.

It was home to a sizeable population from which the Shetani aimed to select the least ill-tempered to tame, or to domesticate, to as much a degree as that was possible.

Lucirion was a hilly and mountainous region. There were no buildings within the city, but several caves, which were entrances to that underground world.

Its area spanned several square miles wide and deep beneath the surface. Exactly how much was anyone’s guess.

Those who weren’t transported to the isle to reside there in perpetuity were employed in the city’s construction and maintenance.

The latter were the fortunate ones, meaning immortals who never angered their captors to the point where they relieved them of a limb or more.

The watchman, Kalinda, plus two youngsters Nyeusi did not know, were on duty when he arrived at Ashside Mountain, a chief point of entry.

“Nyeusi,” he said. “My Lord. Can it really be you?” he added.

“It is,” Nyeusi replied.

“It’s been probably over half a year now,” Kalinda said.

“It has, Kalinda.”

“I thought we’d never see you again,” he said.

Nyeusi smiled. “You look well,” he remarked.

“Thank you, sir,” he returned. “Allow me. Please,” he said, and Nyeusi let him take hold of the reigns on his kilman.

“Has she eaten?” he asked.

“She has,” Nyeusi replied.

“Good,” Kalinda returned. “Abysinnia is who you seek,” he added.

Nyeusi nodded his head. “How did you know?” he asked.

“It can only be,” he replied. “I don’t suppose you’re here on vacation.”

Nyeusi smiled.

“If I may say so, it must be that you’re on a serious errand. I have not forgotten your dislike for this place, or so it’s been said.”

“You have a good memory,” Nyeusi, who didn’t care to address any specifics, replied.

Kalinda was on point. The place he referred to wasn’t merely the city or Lucirion, but the entire island.

It was little more than a penal colony, slave camp, and home to most things he considered dark.

There was a thriving gargoyle community within the mountainous regions northwest of there. While he could tolerate the gargoyles to some degree, ghouls populated the areas most pleasing to his eyes, the forests.

“Very well,” Kalinda said. “I won’t keep you any further. The guards will escort you.”

They lead him into the cave, toward Abysinnia.

It all looked familiar. Things hadn’t changed much since the last time he was there. Friends and subordinates were intrigued. Some were delighted to see him, but he hadn’t the time for small talk or much time to exchange pleasantries.

The watchmen took him directly toward the man he sought.

He was sitting at the head of Asamando in the company of some of his best fighters.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that Nyeusi I see enter the halls of Asamando?” he said.

“Your eyes do not deceive you, brother,” he replied.

“I’m surprised as any to see you here. The talk about was you’d abdicated any allegiance to these lands.”

“The underworld is immense. I cannot be everywhere,” Nyeusi replied.

“I ask only because you never were tight-lipped about your feelings toward our home,” Abysinnia said.

“I’m not here to debate you, little brother,” Nyeusi said, and Abysinnia didn’t much care for how he addressed him.

“Clearly, you are capable and confident enough to lead and manage affairs without my being around.”

“You speak the truth,” Abysinnia quipped.

“There’s no time,” Nyeusi said.

“To the point then. What wind blows you this way?”

“Only the most urgent, most pressing of matters as you will no doubt be assured. The chief council must be summoned to an assembly at once.”

Abysinnia was silent.

“Again, there’s no time for wrangling. Lend me your ears in privacy, and before long, you’ll better appreciate why I stand before you.”

Abysinnia’s eyes met those of his trusted confidants. They rose, and all parities withdrew from his and Nyeusi’s presence.

Nyeusi walked up to him and spoke barely above a whisper.

“’Tis still not private enough,” he said. “Let us retreat to the chamber.”

“As you wish,” the younger brother, now taunted by curiosity, replied.

“Troubles the likes of which I have never seen is upon us,” Nyeusi said the moment he entered the chamber with him.

“Speak, for you so addled my mind that I can’t bear to wait for the council to arrive.”

“Very well,” Nyeusi said, and Abysinnia was all ears.

“Pray,” Nyeusi continued. “Do not suffer yourself to believe you’re immune from danger on this island refuge. A creeping necrosis beyond it has spread like a plague.”

“The immortals,” Abysinnia replied.

“Indeed,” Nyeusi said. “What else? Out and roaming about in numbers you will find difficult to comprehend.”

“Do continue,” Abysinnia said.

“I commenced to cull them, but they devoured upwards of six thousand of my finest men and beasts of burden in one swoop!”

“No!” Abysinnia exclaimed. “And those numbers! You engaged them to war?”

“Not to war,” Nyeusi said. “I intended to surprise and obliterate them.”

Abysinnia said nothing.

“But they found out, and I have no way of knowing how.”

“I wonder myself,” Abysinnia said. “How in the world could they know of developments taking place so far away from them?”

“I cannot say,” Nyeusi said. “But they had some way of knowing.”

“Go on.”

“They marched out to meet our troops head-on. I am hurt and ashamed to say, they defeated me.”

“Incredible,” the younger brother replied. “What beasts did you bring to battle?”

“Elephants,” he replied. “Regrettably. ’Twas a terrible mistake. Aside from transporting supplies, they were of little purpose other than serving as target practice for the enemy.”

His brother said nothing.

“I all but cried blood. Not in the presence of our brethren, but on my way here, while I lay my beast down so that we might get some rest.”

“I cannot imagine you crying.”

“I did,” Nyeusi admitted. “Like if I had a mind to fill a river.”

“I see,” Abysinnia said.

“The slaughter was a terrible, terrible sight to behold. It produced a wall of carcasses. Beasts and our brethren were slain all along the front lines. To the benefit of those who survived or what was left of our troops, ’twas to the point where the dead formed an enormous blockage, a fortification.”

Abysinnia’s face grew long.

“You at least could have let us know what was going on, brother. I mean prior to your attempt to take them on.”

“I felt compelled to act and act immediately,” Nyeusi replied, “so surprised was I when I learned of their numbers.”

“And, what do you estimate that might be? I’m afraid to ask.”

“Somewhere in the tens of thousands,” Nyeusi replied.

“No!” Abysinnia exclaimed.

“I’m afraid they managed to establish a thriving community during years of our paying where they now reside little mind.”

“I see,” Abysinnia said.

“The world beyond, as you know, is vast. I cannot split myself into two or more. I can monitor but so much. I can only spend but so much time with our kin in the mountains and so much with Amri’s men, and of course, I am seldom ever here.

“Our kin to the north steer those who enter the portal toward the Forest of Souls, where we assumed, they were no match for the ghouls.”

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“How they grew to so large a force must be looked into,” Abysinnia remarked. “So near to Ghouland yet they managed to escape the clutches of those bloodthirsty devils? Something’s amiss.”

“Indeed. There are many questions, but escaped they did and given that they managed to thrive and in such numbers is the more pressing matter. How, whys, and so forth, can be addressed later.”

“Okay,” Abysinnia replied.

“They have long begun, as is their wont, to obliterate all that is green around them. This evil, my brother, appears beyond my ability to contain or subdue.

“Left unchecked, in time only the damned may survive something like this, and they too can be confined to the ether provided our enemy learns the way.”

“There are but a few damned, and few if any immortals know about what you mention. Still, they are the scourge of the world beyond the lair and now much more a threat to even us here. Not so much us on the isle, but you know what I mean.”

“Correct,” Nyeusi replied. “You need no reminding when I say if the truth be told, they value no life other than their own.”

“I hear you,” Abysinnia replied. “But what would you have us do?”

“I’d have you listen. You, the council, and from there, word will spread,” he replied.

“Yes, but you want some type of action,” Abysinnia said.

“It is why I am here,” Nyeusi replied. “But before this, all of our kin, down to the last skeptic, must know about what has transpired. Perhaps now they may be convinced any talk that suggests the immortals can cohabit or exist harmoniously with nature will be abandoned.

“After what happened out on the plains, we now have enough witnesses to testify about how murderous a lot they are. The authenticity of this will not be questioned.”

“Very well,” Abysinnia said.

“After the council meeting, our brothers here will come to know, and I will personally meet with our kin in the mountains to inform them about the savagery of these creatures.”

“As you wish,” Abysinnia replied.

“You are to be mindful of your telling this,” Nyeusi said. “Do you hear me?”

“I will be,” Abysinnia replied.

“In any event, you will be here as I relate and give a thorough account of it to the council. They were the aggressors, you see,” he added, looking Abysinnia in the eye.

“Recall my telling you luckily, after a routine flight to monitor the lands between us, we observed them advance toward our homes, clearly with the intent of destroying us.”

Abysinnia stared at him, and Nyeusi felt he appeared at a loss for comprehension.

“Right,” the younger brother said, then he shook his head to confirm he understood.

The council members began arriving, and shortly after they all did, Nyeusi explained once more what transpired.

“I’m surprised but perhaps should not be by several things you mentioned,” one stated. This was Firstson.

“At what in particular?” Nyeusi asked.

“On the whole, it’s an incredible story,” he replied, “but to learn they’ve grown to such numbers and are out there in the open is quite troubling. To know they’ve become as audacious as to launch an attack against us, that’s all the more disturbing. No one pretending to have any kind of sense would argue this can be allowed to continue.”

“Not just any attack,” Nyeusi said. “They meant to obliterate us, but ours fought bravely, and although our body count was high, we did manage to repel them.”

“Hm,” Firstson uttered.

“Now that you’ve shed light on what transpired, you understand our indignation,” another councilman interjected. This was Moto. “The question now is what would you have us do,” he added.

“Well,” Nyeusi began, “I am open to suggestions, and I was hoping I could get some good ones from you. As the old saying goes, two or more heads are better than one.”

“Given the casualties you sustained, do you now not have enough fighters to stand against them?” Moto asked.

“We have enough to give a good account of ourselves, but I need more,” Nyeusi replied. “A good account is hardly enough. I need assurance there will not be a repeat of what happened.”

“There are a million miles with all sorts of terrain, plus a sea between us and Urkran,” Moto replied. Urkran was the Shetani stronghold located south of Kimbilio, across from the Great Plains.

“I know,” Nyeusi said.

“You’re not suggesting . . .”

“Anything,” Nyeusi interjected. “Not yet. Not before I hear your suggestions.”

“But you want more resources. More fighters. Do you not?” Moto asked.

“I do,” Nyeusi replied.

“Then, the question of how do we get them to you is paramount,” Moto said.

“Without a doubt,” Nyeusi replied.

“Not only will it be a challenge, it will also take time,” Moto said. “More than you care to know.”

“Indeed,” Nyeusi said.

“Securing aid from our kin in the mountains is probably the better bet. They’re not quite as far away, are they? Plus, there is no sea between you and them,” said Firstson.

“And, what of our brothers north of the Forest of Souls?” Abysinnia asked.

“You know the answer to that,” Nyeusi said. “That would introduce the probability of facing another battle just to get to their village.”

“Another battle?” Abysinnia said.

“Where’s your memory?” Nyeusi returned. “The forest is infested with ghouls. No one wants any trouble with them if that could be avoided. Recall they are as plentiful as the forest bats there and well nestled within that terrain. They know how to fight from a position of concealment and would therefore prove to be no mere nuisance.”

Abysinnia said nothing more.

“And, what of our mountain kin?” Firstson asked.

“That will present some additional challenges,” Nyeusi said.

“Enough to make them the less viable alternative?” Firstson asked. “Come now, Nyeusi. When was the last time we saw you? You’re here for a reason. You never fail to think things over thrice. What’s on your mind?”

“Ideally, to punish them with a surprise attack,” he replied.

“And, what’s to stop this?” Firstson asked.

“I’d eliminate the lot before they could so much as raise a finger,” Nyeusi replied.

“You’re asking the impossible,” Moto said.

“Am I?” Nyeusi asked. “They all but did the impossible to us. Should we manage our affairs efficiently, that would be a just reward.”

“And, you still haven’t told us specifically what you have in mind,” Firstson said. “Or, do you have any specifics in mind? I suspect you do.”

“Sounds to me like no matter what choice is made, there will be heavy casualties. If they’ve grown into such a force, shouldn’t we consider a truce? I’m getting the impression this would likely be best for both parties,” a certain Betason added.

The room fell silent.

Nyeusi’s neck and head suddenly felt very warm, then hot.

If it were possible to pierce a man like one may do with a spear, but by using a cold hard stare, Betason would have been mortally wounded, if not dead, instantaneously.

“You’re getting the impression?” Nyeusi said, and he held him in this visual vice grip for the next few seconds.

Betason did not reply.

“I wonder what you know, or how much you think you know, about these invaders to dare mention what you did. Must be a lot.”

Betason remained silent.

“Well, let’s hear it,” Nyeusi said, but Betason thought it was best to say nothing.

“I suspect saying anything to you will be a waste of time, but I will speak anyway. Not because I’m interested in you or anything you or those like you have to say or believe. I’ll speak for the benefit of the others to hear.

“I have traveled longer and farther than you can imagine, and during that time, I have seen what this scourge you’d offer a truce is about.”

“I didn’t say offer, but rather consider offering, my lord,” he interjected.

“Be silent!” Nyeusi said emphatically.

“I offered you a chance to speak before. Did I not?”

He did not reply.

“There is nothing to consider!” Nyeusi added.

“I have seen what these invaders are about, both here and from the lands from which they came. I can see their world because I have traveled through the portal in the mountain. Have you?

“What’s more is I’ve had a view of what the future holds for all life there through the necromancer’s stone.

“This scourge you’d consider offering a truce won’t merely kill a wildebeest or two, and not for food but for fun. Or, as they call it, cull herds to make space for their ever-growing numbers. They will obliterate entire forests, poison, and kill all life in rivers and streams. Oceans, seas, nothing to them is sacred, and nothing anywhere will be spared.

“So, what do you think they will make of you, my foolish friend? The most they may offer you is not a truce, but if you’re lucky, confinement like we do to their kind in the mountains.

“Your fate, however, is more likely to sooner or later be extermination, given their penchant for doing this without exception to whatever does not look like them.

“Now, is such a profane creation something you’d offer a truce to?”

Betason looked at him.

“You may speak,” Nyeusi said.

He was slow to respond.

“I wonder,” he began, “if two wrongs make a right and if perhaps we ought to not lead by example.”

Nyeusi allowed himself a moment before replying.

“I’ll be kind and generous enough to offer you one of two options,” he began. “Meet me outside now, and you’ll be allowed the use of your sword in defense, or you may remain here in silence until this meeting is over, after which I’ll have your head removed. Which one is it?”

“My Lord . . .” Betason began, and he stood up.

Nyeusi raised his arm in the air, and he said no more.

“Which one is it?” Nyeusi asked, and the room once again fell into a deathly silence.

A second passed, then two, three . . . . Seven seconds passed.

“Sit down, you would be traitor,” Nyeusi said, and Betason did as was told.

Nyeusi wrestled with trying to come to a decision about what he should say next.

“Now, where were we before being so rudely interrupted?” he said.

His temperature slowly began to cool. Betason suddenly felt quite cold, although perspiration appeared on his forehead.

Nyeusi began to discuss what he had in mind as a strategic attack, and the assembly, all of them except Betason found it difficult to concentrate on the topic of discussion.

The inability to concentrate lingered. The meeting drew to a close, and Betason could not recall a word of what was discussed after he was told to sit and be silent.

Nyeusi gave his closing remarks and Betason, with the longest face he ever wore, felt numb.

“Take him to the executioner’s block,” Nyeusi ordered, then he made to depart. “His life is forfeit.”

“My Lord,” the condemned soul lamented, but his words fell on deaf ears.

In the blink of an eye, Nyeusi was no longer among them, and his thoughts were on whether he should try to get a bit of rest.

He decided he would.

He headed toward his chambers and was pleased to see his bed and all within the place was kept in as immaculate a condition as if he had never left.

Barely twenty minutes passed before he settled into bed when Abysinnia came looking for him.

“Leave us,” he said, and the guards who came with him departed.

Nyeusi sat up.

“It is done,” Abysinnia said.

“Very well,” the elder brother replied.

“How long before you’d have us leave for Maar?”

Maar was a pristine forested region hundreds of miles east of the Besi or great river.

“I wasn’t thinking of you going,” Nyeusi replied.

“No?” Abysinnia said.

“No,” Nyeusi replied.

“Okay,” Abysinnia said.

“Do you want to?” Nyeusi asked.

“It doesn’t make a difference to me,” Abysinnia replied.

“Why not stay here?” Nyeusi asked. “Continue to be my eyes and ears while I’m away. In fact, I’d prefer that.”

“As you wish,” Abysinnia said.

“For the immediate future, most of what’s to do away from here will be grunt work anyway. Stay here and relax a bit,” Nyeusi said.

“Fine,” Abysinnia replied.

“Good,” Nyeusi said.

“And, when the work is done, when they are prepared, what will you have me do? Will you at least keep us informed this time, considering how many of our men here will be involved?”

“Of course,” Nyeusi replied.

“And, will you not want me to play any larger role then? I mean after they have built the boats?” Abysinnia asked.

“You are a commander and a strong leader,” Nyeusi replied. “You needn’t throw yourself into the heart of this battle unless you have a mind for it.”

“I needn’t, but I don’t mind,” Abysinnia said.

“Your enthusiasm warms my heart, brother. I commend you. This time there will be no mistakes. They will not expect an approach coming from the east as they have no men that way, or certainly not as far away as Maar. Also, this is not a last stand kind of situation,” Nyeusi said.

“But you were mistaken about their presence before.”

“I’ll have the area further monitored before long. How’s that?” Nyeusi said.

“Very well,” Abysinnia replied, “and, on that note, I’ll leave you to get some rest. Who isn’t already informed about what’s going on needs to be. I’ll see to that.

“Our riders will need to be informed and prepared with all the necessities for the journey. There is no time for play. We shall talk further before you depart.”

“Thank you, brother,” Nyeusi said.

Dusk was fast arriving, and the immortals decided they would rest as well. They were grateful to be blessed with consecutive days of no rain since getting any rest meant sleeping out in the open exposed to the elements.

Fear of being attacked by nocturnal predators persisted while they slept, but the fires they made around them proved to be sufficient to ward off any beasts that may have had having a meal in mind.

The individual campfires stretched out over so large an area, for that matter, that for the nocturnal animals, they proved to be more a spectacle and source of intrigue than any inspiration to launch an attack.

Men shared the responsibility of awakening every few hours to ensure they kept the fires going, plus keep an eye out should there be any daring and wayward beast that may have fancied having a go at them.

They awoke at the crack of dawn, as did Nyeusi, with both parties bent on heading to their homes.

“I hope I will see you again,” Abysinnia said.

“Like it’s such an improbability. Why do you say it like that?” Nyeusi asked.

“Because,” Abysinnia replied.

“Because what?” Nyeusi asked.

“Because these are trying times,” Abysinnia replied.

“They are,” Nyeusi affirmed. “But as far as being involved in any unusual danger, nothing will happen unless they launch an attack on us.”

“And, how probable do you believe that is?” Abysinnia said.

“Anything is possible,” Nyeusi replied, “but at least we’re making plans.”

“Plans that may be thwarted,” Abysinnia said.

“Have faith, my brother. Think positive thoughts,” Nyeusi said.

“Very well,” Abysinnia said.

Nyeusi embraced him.

He and a farewell party that included Firstson, Moto, and Kalinda, watched him mount his kilman and fly away.

Abysinnia turned to Moto. “We have work to do,” he said.

“Indeed,” Moto replied.

“We must tell the riders the time has come to prepare themselves to head to Maar,” Abysinnia added.

“Right,” Moto said.

Meanwhile, there wasn’t a man left at Kimbilio who hadn’t ventured out onto the plains that now failed to assemble outside the village.

They stared fixedly at the horizon. The inside of palms clenched steadfastly to weapons became sweaty.

Perspiration congealed on many a brow, and there was not a cheery face among them.

Apprehension slowly turned to curiosity as the source that so alarmed them drew nearer, and now, it did not appear to be so foreboding after all, or so many of the onlookers began to believe.

Several men from the approaching army raised their arms in the air and waived.

Oba, who was at the front of the ranks, smiled.

“They’re our men!” he exclaimed. “It’s a miracle!”

A boisterous cheer emanated from the crowd.

“So many of them. Can this be true, or do my eyes deceive me?” one fellow said.

Glum faces now appeared happy. All fear and trepidation vanished, and many an immortal ran madly and excitedly toward each other.

In his overzealousness, one would have knocked Oba over had it not been for a friend who held him before he hit the ground.

They threw themselves into each other’s arms, wrapped themselves around each other, lifted others off their feet, all in uproarious jubilation over what they previously believed was improbable.

How in heavens name could they have overcome so terrifying an army, or did they ever face Nyeusi’s men? The questions in their heads were endless.

“Can you believe your eyes, my brothers?” Oba asked.

“I can,” the fellow nearest him replied.

“How in the name of God?” a fellow next to Oluso asked.

“Because we are more manly than they are,” he replied, and a boisterous roar came from the crowd.

“Right you are!” someone shouted.

“Hooray!” the crowd roared.

“We are all ears,” another fellow who stayed back among the last line of defense interjected. “Onward home we go, then do tell us all,” he added, and those words too were met with great cheer.

Those who stayed back hoisted a number of the victorious into the air to shouts of hooray every time a fellow was caught and flung upward.

Others got hold of the triumphant ones and carried them aloft or on their shoulders toward their home.

“All that’s missing now to make this the perfect occasion is a good strong drink,” Feignmann remarked.

“Agreed,” Pseudomann added.

“God, do I miss being able to drink. Drink and be able to hold it down, enjoy what I drank,” Feignmann said.

“We all do,” Zaeim said, “but don’t let it dampen the mood. Be grateful we are still alive.”

“I am,” Feignmann said. “It’s so good to be alive.”

The minute they arrived home, those who comprised what was to be their last line of defense reminded their warrior peers to spare no detail about their adventures.

“Tell us everything,” Mjumbe said. “I mean everything,” he added, and the men laughed.

“Sure,” Feignmann said. “Want to know more about the Shitani, eh?” he added, and the men laughed heartily at that appellation. “We will tell all.”

“Little did we know we had more to fear from mice than they who purport to be men,” Pseudomann added, and his remark was met with a boisterous cheer.