They hadn’t even taken two sips of water when they were ambushed. Two of the men died instantly as their skulls were struck at the nape of their necks with axes wielded by the men who caught them from behind. The other two and the chief reacted in time and dodged the blows, although one of them also died before reaching his weapons. When Samman and his lieutenant grabbed theirs, Unnum understood that the war had been won, although the final battle wouldn’t be easy. His brother was a massive man who easily disposed of the two warriors holding him, ready to smash his brother’s face with his axe. However, Unnum was agile, and with a feint, he managed to sidestep and trip him. But he couldn’t thrust his spear as he intended. The lieutenant repelled his attack and brandished his own against the five men besieging them, allowing his chief to get up. A life-or-death fight ensued, injuring some of Unnum’s men, Tabal among them. But Samman and his companion couldn’t do anything against the numerical superiority of their opponents. After killing the last of their companions, they cornered the chief and separated him so Unnum could kill him at will.

“This is only between you and me, brother,” the massive man said desperately. “Can’t you face me alone?”

The two stared at each other, and Unnum signalled to his men. They withdrew, leaving the two brothers alone in the fray. As soon as they were released, Samman grabbed a spear and his axe quickly enough to prevent his brother from striking him first, something he was close to doing.

But Unnum reacted in time, and now the two stood face to face, deciding who would attack first. Both wore simple loincloths, their hair tied back with cords forming a kind of bun. Even though Samman was older, his dark and full beard still didn’t show the incipient grey that was beginning to appear in his brother’s.

Unnum’s tense muscles glistened with a shiny sweat as he held his spear, and his eyes were sparkling with determination. Equally fierce, Samman made several feints with his axe raised, ready to attack. The air vibrated with energy, loaded with tension, as the two warriors studied each other, seeking any weakness. The rest of the men maintained a sepulchral silence, only broken by the cries of women and children watching the scene from behind the trees.

They had faced each other in the past with uneven results, and they knew each other’s fighting styles. But several years had passed since then, and the fact that they were still alive showed they had learned new techniques.

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Finally, the silence was shattered by the thunderous clash of spears when Unnum attempted an attack. The two men pushed each other, fighting for control over the rough and dusty terrain. Samman’s spear buzzed dangerously close to Unnum’s face, but he skillfully dodged in time. His opponent now only had his axe, which was his best weapon.

The fight turned into a wild dance, with Samman and Unnum spinning and dodging, attacking and defending in a deadly choreography. The sound of weapons clashing echoed like thunder as the two men fought for survival. Muscles tensed, eyes gleamed with fierceness, and sweat and dust mingled on their bodies.

Unnum thrust and thrust with his spear, but he couldn’t land a hit, until he lost it, shattered by Samman’s axe. Now they were evenly matched in weaponry, and the dance began again.

But with a skilled move, Samman managed to disarm Unnum of his axe, sending it flying through the air before it crashed to the ground with a dull thud. Unnum stepped back momentarily, surprised by his opponent’s skill, and stumbled and fell to the ground. Then Samman didn’t hesitate for a moment. He lunged at him and raised the piece of wood and flint to strike his brother’s face... when suddenly, he stopped, arching his figure backward and letting the weapon fall to the ground. His figure froze as if paralysed, and he twisted his mouth, only able to turn slowly. He turned, and the last words of his life were, “You damn witch!”

Behind him stood a thin, toothless old woman, dressed in the filthy remnants of a black bear’s hide. The woman had just plunged an extremely sharp bone knife into his kidney.

“You wretch bastard!” the old woman shouted, spitting. “You won’t steal women from anyone anymore.”

Ulla, the old woman and the tribe’s sorceress, smiled as the man collapsed on the ground with a choked sigh.

Next, the men helped Unnum to his feet, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He had seen death up close, reflected in his brother’s eyes, and it certainly took time for him to compose himself. For a moment, he continued with a heaving chest and sparkling eyes until the women started emerging from the trees and approached the remaining warriors.