HaSheaga
Saif looked behind him. The camp was vanishing in between the sand dunes and large palms. He didn’t dwell much on what happened last night between Athaal and the commander, but whatever it was, Athaal wanted to leave as fast as possible. He looked back, making sure Kazim was still with him. Today’s actions and decisions had been made from rash emotions. Saif didn’t like it, but he was glad there was no danger at all from following the orders.
Much to Saif’s surprise, and especially considering his age, Kazim still kept up with him at this pace. He was glad the one he had developed fighting techniques and fought beside still hadn’t crumbled to old age and aching bones. Even if he mostly did administrative work now, he apparently still trained.
He turned forward. The sun was now slowly creeping up over the sandy hills that rolled forward over the horizon, bathing them in an orange glow. Crossing over the dunes, they felt how the bitter cold got replaced by a blistering heat. Along the ridges of their vision they saw multiple oases crowning the dull desert with a green speckle of color, along with small dots of richly colored flowers barely visible from their view.
They reached the rock Mun’Taz had told them about, and where they were to wait for Athaal and the rest to catch up. Zubair kneeled in the sand and rose when they came closer, bowing slightly the moment they were within reach. He had shown some displeasure of being sent ahead to scout, thinking it was beneath his abilities to do such a trivial task. However, Kazim had agreed with Saif that it would be a good test for him.
“There’s nothing of importance to report.” Zubair said, his salute as he did so flawless, but his demeanor still showing arrogance.
Saif looked outwards past the rock, “Complete the report,” he ordered after a time of gazing outwards.
Zubair furrowed his brows and looked at him, “I just did, there’s nothing of importance to report.”
Saif sighed and took to his wings to fly up on top of the rock, baffled over how the discipline had fallen in the academy. For Zubair to ignore even the smallest detail was unacceptable, and his attitude needed to change if he ever were to make a good watanï. At first it seemed like Zubair had been correct. Nothing seemed off in the dunes that stretched all the way over the horizon. Another oasis stood at the edge of his vision, larger than the other they had passed he concluded. Straight forward he spotted the Limbs of Bak’an, a gathering of old withering trees leading towards the lush valley.
About to join the others in the shadow, he halted. Seeing something in the glare of the sun, he squinted trying to gain a better view. He leaped down and unfurled his wings, gliding forward and landing soundlessly in the sand next to a large path of trampled prints that were far too large for any pony to have made. Slowly getting covered by the winds, the path headed straight for the oasis.
Kazim followed and landed right next to him, and they both remained silent. They knew that the paws, ending with deep claw marks, belonged to a Linac. By the size of the trail and the cluttering of prints, it was more than three of them. Saif hunched down, touching the path with his hoof, it seemed like they were dragging something with them, but he couldn’t be sure.
“The tracks look about a day old, meaning they either have a camp in that oasis, or just passing through it.” Kazim noted, breaking the silence.
Saif only nodded in response. His armor quickly absorbed the heat as they remained near the track, turning it into a baker’s oven. He turned and began to walk for the large rock. While they could easily fly up he preferred not to use his wings during the day, the heat would quickly become unbearable. Kazim agreed with him, and refrained from using his wings unless absolutely necessary.
He sighed as he sat down, mind focused intently on the possibility of a Linac pack interjecting the caravan route. Even a small squad of those beasts would prove almost impossible to stop from getting their target. With an elderly unicorn and a pregnant mare, avoiding that would be top priority.
“Something wrong?” Zubair asked from the corner he had taken rest in.
Saif ran a hoof down his cheek and turned his head slowly. Zubair still gave off an uneasy vibe, making Saif constantly question if it was right to bring him along. The large sweeping motions and flaring nostrils were awaiting a confrontation. His eyes were icy blue and showed calculating behavior from the way he looked at the environment. He was one of the very few pegasi born with a pure white mane in Saddle-Arabia. Clear colors as that were often not preferred in the watanï profession and had been watered out by many years of warfare. Though, every now and then, a foal with clear colors was born. The little of his coat that was visible under the leather armor was hazel brown with spots of black in it.
“There’s possibly a small group of Linac nearby,” Saif started, “I’m not entirely sure what we should do about it. Most likely they will not come this way again, but the off chance that they will is worrying me.” He turned to Zubair and said cooly, “This is why every detail matters, remember that.”
Zubair hesitated slightly, then leaned forward. “Can’t we kill them?” he asked with an aggressive tone in his voice.
“No,” Kazim said, shutting the idea down.
Zubair furrowed his brows, “Why not? We’re three watanï, and from what I’ve heard about what you and Saif have done before, we should easily be able to take them down.”
“Have you ever fought a Linac?” Saif asked, still running a hoof down his cheek.
“No, but I know you’ve killed a few alone, can’t be that hard.” The youngster said, arrogance and excitement weighing his voice.
“Did they ever tell you how I did it?” He said as he narrowed his eyes at Zubair, who shook his head in retort. Lifting a hoof Saif brought it near his throat, allowing the blade to spring out of its sheath as he talked.“I killed them while they slept, one stab with this right in their vocal cords, simultaneously as the other one goes up under the jaw,” Saif raise his other hoof to the soft spot between his jawbones to show. “so the blade goes straight to their brain and kills them instantly.”
Zubair glared, “The great Saif taking the coward’s way, and why the vocal cords?”
“Their roar can be heard miles away, if you don’t kill them instantly, they will signal every Linac close by.” Kazim added.
“I would imagine a proper fight would be better.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Saif said with a crass tone. “It is the only way to make sure you live through a meeting with them.” Seeing the annoyance grow in the recruit, Saif wondered just how deep into the political mess the academy had fallen. It seemed that any knowledge of the Linacs had been removed from their teaching, and discipline was something of the past. This one began to test his patience.
Zubair rose to protest, and Saif dismissed him with a raised hoof before turning to Kazim. “I want to scout the oasis, to see if there is any immediate threat to our band, and if we need to do something about it. The two of us will go,” He turned to Zubair again, “You will stay here and wait for Athaal and the others to catch up. When they arrive you will join them and head towards the Rift of Bak’an.”
Zubair furrowed his brows, “Why do I need to stay? If it comes down to a fight I’m much better suited than Kazim.” He protested.
Saif stood up, “That is why you won’t join me, the point is to avoid a fight, and for that Kazim is far better suited than you.” seeing Zubair’s features darken, he glared at him. “You will stay here and keep a watch, that’s final.” He held out a hoof, “Give me one of your water pouches, we will need it on the road to the oasis.”
With annoyed movements, Zubair took one of the pouches and tossed it to Saif, then sat down with his back towards the rock. Saif took the pouch and emptied the contents of it into his own and Kazim’s. After making sure the lids were secure they moved towards the end of the large shadow.
Saif turned his head, “If I find out you have abandoned your post, or in any way endangered the expedition or the lives at those in it, including us, I will execute you.” He said as a statement, his coolly voice making sure there was no mistake, and the threat was very much real.
Zubair slinked down in the shadows as he realized he had no say in the matter. Saif saw how the cadet struggled to keep in control of his anger, all while tossing shot glances at him. It would take Saif only a quick second to make sure he would never breathe again, and Zubair knew it.
Sure that the message had been received without any sort of leeway, he began to walk while looking back at Kazim. Was he not allowed to deal discipline to the students any more, or had he just gone soft? If he had done anything like that while he was under training he would have gained a beating so severe that he would have trouble walking for a few days. Zubair needed to change attitude fast, or else his life would fall at the hoofs of a less kind lord. Saif shook his head and aimed his focus forward.
The oasis, growing as they approached, was much larger than he thought at first. About halfway from the rock and the lush area he saw the clear green color of trees and bushes. All over the edge, richly colored flowers embraced the path of a large animal trail. It was often discussed why they had such abundance of oases in the desert, for the sun and soil gave little room for it. One theory was that underneath large rivers ran, stretching like veins of life through the barren land. Each of them held a unique ecosystem, depending on size and placement. The larger ones gave life to rancats, a cat with large eyes, two tails and four long thin legs. Their prey, wontak, often followed. A furry little creature with an elongated swine snout and tiny legs with claws on them, they were completely harmless to all but bugs. Linacs however, seemed to find them tasty enough to hunt for now and then.
Entering the animal trail, Saif brushed away a branch. The oasis offered a welcoming cold and damp change from the sun, which now was climbing upwards in the sky with rapid speed, getting warmer and warmer. The soil felt rich and soft under his hoofs as he trekked forward, carefully avoiding the larger branches that stuck out over the trail by either going over them or under. His ears flickered trying to locate any sound from the large beasts, if they were even here. He always made sure he heard the sound of Kazim’s steps near him.
Wherever he looked, he saw wild life. Near a pond, there was a gathering of gazelles drinking deeply from the water. From the trees around the open area and around the trail they walked on, birds chirped happily. They heard the rattle from a snake, and the lazy flaps of a larger bird.
The trail seemed to stop at a wall of thick vegetation. Saif pointed his hoof forward, indicating that they should cut through as silent as possible. Each step was taken carefully, for the moisture trapped in the forest made for slippery roots and branches. The soil was covered in leaves and broken branches, cracking and giving in from their steps. He took a branch away from his face and halted.
He pointed at his ears and then forward. Sounds that was out of place could be heard, low guttural growls. Saif held his breath and turned to Kazim; they both knew too well what those sounds came from. Taking a deep breath, he carefully stepped forward, prodding the soil with his hoofs and shifting away branches as best as he could. The growls grew in strength, and Saif pushed aside a branch, giving him vision to a camp site.
Right in front of him sat a large Linac. The hulk like beast had bright red scales running down its arms and back, with a golden line on the tips of those on its back. From its broad and muscled neck a wild mane of gray fell down over the scales. The Linac turned its lizardlike head, showing eyes of stark purple and teeth dripping with poisonous saliva. Its hands were larger than half a pony, with each finger housing a serrated claw. The legs looked almost comical in contrast to the large arms. They were tiny, and had paws with tiny hooks instead of feet, but Saif knew the power behind those. Above its belly and underneath its throat, a scale-less beige bag of skin could be seen: the killing spot.
Saif hunkered down again and signaled them to move over to another place so they could get a better overview. Carefully moving forward and around the open area, he constantly kept an eye on the beasts resting in the sun. They stopped, and after a while he was confident that they had not been seen or heard; he leaned forward, barely allowing him to see inside the camp. One of the Linacs focused intently on making a fire ready, while snapping at those sleeping in their guttural language. He saw no more signs of any other than the four around in the camp, most likely it was just a small patrol. Then, he saw something that made his heart skip a beat and his breath escape from his lungs. In a cage behind the largest beast a beaten mare lay, barely moving.
Her hoofs were tied together to a long stick, and over her head was a woolen bag. On her shoulder a gash had remained open, turning into a crater of black coagulated blood with drops of bright red running down the azure fur and leaving a trail down to the ground. The cutie mark on her flank, resembling a blue half-moon and a wand, had a large bruise over it that was fresh from the black color in it. The light blue tail twitched lightly as she took small sharp intakes of breath. The muffled groan she let out was ladened with pain.
Trixie! The name zapped into Saif’s mind like lightning. His muscles tensed and shivered in agitation, He used all of his willpower to stop himself from rushing out in between the Linacs in a futile attempt to free her. Even with his emotional control, he found that the mere sight of her in this position bid an unwelcome pain at the back of his throat. He forced his eyes away and beckoned Kazim to follow him. They reached a secluded spot under a large branch, just far enough away to allow them to talk in hushed tones. He sat down on his tail, preventing the damp earth from hitting his armor. With closed eyes he took a long outdrawn sigh and arched his brows.
“Anything the matter?” Kazim inquired after a long silence.
“Yes… and I’m not sure how to address it.” Saif said plainly.
“You’ve seen things much more severe than that, Saif…” The old stallion reasoned.
“Not with… her…” He whispered in response.
Kazim put a hoof on Saif’s shoulder, “Do you know the mare that lies there?”
Saif rose, “Come, we need to head back and meet my brother.” He said quickly and bolted forward, his mind focused on one thing alone.
He swore to himself. Of all the things he could see when checking out that camp, this was what he least expected. Convincing Athaal would be difficult. It wouldn’t have been a problem under normal conditions, but with time restraints hanging over them, leaving the course, even just for a little bit, would be out of the question. Especially if Athaal found out the mare lying there was the one Moxie spent the night with in Canterlot. No, introducing her as his lover would be the best course of action; as a last effort.
Kazim caught up with him, “What’s the matter, Saif!”
“The plans have changed!” Was all he said before he exited the thick brush and ran as fast as the heat allowed him over the scorching desert sand. If he judged it right by the equipment and preparations he saw, the Linacs would camp there at least another day. He hoped so with all of his heart, for he would not be able to chase after them.
“It’s too risky and time consuming.” Athaal stated.
Saif breathed heavily. The run from the oasis to the large rock had taken all of their stamina, and right now Kazim was showing his advanced age while lying with his eyes closed in the shadows. Even so they returned just before Athaal had decided to leave. Much to his brother’s disliking Saif had spared no time and confronted him about what he thought needed to be done the moment they met.
“We can’t just leave her to die.” Saif retorted, struggling to keep his voice in check under his heavy breathing.
“We’re on a strict schedule. We can’t allow any detours, and you know this.”
Saif clenched his jaws with a resigned frown, “Will you let me go alone then? Release me from my contract; just for a few days.”
“Not a chance! I need you along more than anyone else.” Athaal stated, shooting the idea down as if it came from a madman.
“Kazim is more than capable to fill my position for a few days!”
“Really? From what I’ve seen, you drained him off everything with a reckless dash over the desert…” His brother stated while pointing at the sleeping form in the shadows. “And from what you told me, she will be dead from blood poisoning in a bit. I’m sorry, Saif. I know it sounds harsh, but I got to think about my wife first. That’s the last I’ll say on the matter.”
“Are you really going to let her die, Athaal?” A weak voice came from behind them, Moxie approached her husband, her walk weak. It looked as if the tiniest gust would be enough to topple her. She sat down beside Athaal and looked at him with defeated, tired eyes. Each blink took time and her breathing was shallow. She rested a hoof in the lap of her husband and shrugged her head. “How can you be so blind, Athaal? Not once has Saif done anything other than to protect us. If he feels so strongly about this, there must be a reason.” She said in a light scolding voice to Athaal, before facing Saif. “Tell us, why is she so important to you?”
Saif swallowed, now realizing that all eyes rested on him. Even Kazim was sitting upright, awaiting a reason. He thought intently. There were limits to what he was willing to admit in front of a whole squad. He had put himself in this position. He challenged the commander’s order. For that, there was no going back. Athaal needed to make sure all the social hierarchy rules were followed, lest he would lose the respect of those whom followed him. His face remained a stoic statue of emotion, but inside his heart raced, hammering blood into his skull to feed his racing mind. Then it struck him: Athaal had mentioned something to him before. Hopefully Moxie would pick up on it, and it would pass Athaal. “I…she’s somepony special to me…” He said, and stared directly at Moxie, “her touch is blue…”
“I need a more pro—“
“We got time, Athaal.” Moxie quickly interjected, and she stared at Saif with a look of recognition. In that instant, Saif knew all the pieces fell in place for her; and she could now place him. Her face turned from a tired slate, too a face full of panic and worry.
“No, we don’t, you look like a ghost even from half a day’s walk. There’s no way we can postpone it even further.”
She sighed, then turned to face Rishad. “If we doubled the dosage of the serum, just for one day, would it have any worse side effects, and would it increase the effect itself?”
The old priest blinked, as if pulled out of a trance by the question. “I’m not sure if the effect will be doubled, but it will be greater.” He then looked intently at Athaal and Moxie, “So will the immediate effects of it…”
Moxie looked down into the sand in front of her, then rested a hoof upon her stomach. “Will it have any effect on the foal?” she lastly asked.
“The serum itself does not affect the foal, but the effect it has on you might. Although the chance is slim, it’s still there.” Rishad answered, making sure she understood what she was suggesting.
She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. Her head seeking the sturdy shoulder of her husband. She barely opened her eyes and looked at him, smiling weak. “It will be fine then.”
Saif pressed his hoofs into the sand and bowed his head towards her, “Thank you, you are most kind, my Lady.”
Athaal rose, eyes glaring at him, his iris rings showing their frightening nature. “Come with me for a bit, Saif.” He ordered as he walked past him and behind the large rock.
Saif followed, knowing full well that he had crossed a line. With any other noble, Saif would risk exclusion from the watanï as well as the city itself. He trusted that Athaal wanted nothing more than a reason. As Saif came to his brother, he shuddered slightly. Whenever Athaal’s anger rose, he became something that frightened Saif. The way his demeanor changed he had seen in one other pony before, and that was in his father before killing his mother. While he knew he could take Athaal in a duel under normal conditions, he would never duel nor fight his brother in this state. He knew that then the swings would be for blood.
“What are you hiding from us?” Athaal asked harshly.
“Nothing that is your business.” Saif quickly retorted, to his own detriment. He let old habits take hold, talking to Athaal as he would back home. The moment he did, he saw Athaal’s eyes narrow slightly more.
“Do not try me, Saif.” Athaal started, taking one step closer to him. “If you are willing to risk the life of my wife, and our soldiers for this mare, it becomes my business. I know you’re hiding something, now tell me here before I make the call to continue with our original plan.”
Saif swallowed, the gaze he got from Athaal was bone chilling. He knew it far too well; nothing would budge his brother’s mind in this state. Either you followed his word, or you made yourself scarce. “The trips I so often take to Canterlot is to visit her, she would perhaps only say that we are lovers, but I know there’s something more.” He paused and looked at his brother, watching as the harsh, crude features shadowing his face slowly becoming softer. “What you and Moxie have…what I imagine you feel when you lie next to her…is what I feel when I’m with her. Her play hurts me in so many ways, but in the end of the day, the words she say makes whatever demon that haunts me vanish.” He sighed, “She is to me as Moxie is to you, Athaal. I would do the same for her as you would for Moxie.”
“So it’s like that?” The noble said with a distant tone in his voice, as if thinking out loud.
“Yes, I would never come with such a request for anything less. You know this, Athaal.” Saif stated after a while.
Athaal nodded after a long painstaking minute. “Very well, that’s reason enough for me. Let’s inform Arien that he is in charge till we get back.” He said and started to walk back to the camp.
“Thank you, but you shouldn’t leave Moxie’s side, I can handle this on my own.”
The noble turned, “Either we both go, or none of us go.”
“But…”
“Besides, if she truly is to you what Moxie is to me, then how could I pass up an opportunity to meet my possibly future sister-in-law?” Athaal smiled, “Come now, we must eat before we go.”
With a few fast leaps Saif caught up to his brother. “We need more than just the two of us. As the Linacs are not nocturnal beasts, we should wait till night to attack.” he stopped in his breath, “Her name is Trixie Lulamoon.”
Athaal smiled in return, “Agreed. If there are only four Linacs we should take two others with us, another soldier and another watanï. Sound good?” he reasoned, focusing upon the task at ahead.
“I think Kazim should stay with Moxie and Rishad, together with Arien they will be able to bring the caravan safely to the valley.” Saif paused, “I think Zubair will come with us.”
“The new watanï graduate?” Athaal pondered, “Any particular reason? Why not Namir?” He added, thinking of the second watanï Kazim had brought with him.
“Namir is far more collected because he does not have the same explosive behaviour as Zubair. Kazim convinced me to take Zubair along because he needed the experience in the field. I think Namir came along because we needed to fill a spot. Zubair is supposed to be one of the best in his class. From what I’ve seen, I remain skeptical. It seems like the watanï have fallen so deep into politics that they are not taught about the Linacs at all. They are only taught how to fight opponents of equal size so they can protect the fat nobles better.” Saif took a deep breath of air, “I can’t think of a better time than now to teach him about them. We’re not fighting them; we will just kill them and get out.”
Athaal stopped and laughed, resting a hoof at the hot surface of the rock. “You make it sound so easy. Just make sure to teach him the proper technique to kill them before we go. I think L’oohm should come as well, he seems to know his way in a battle.”
Entering the camp behind the rock, Athaal announced loudly their change of plans, starting a murmur in the group. Saif walked next to his brother between the mixed faces of their squad. Zubair and L’oohm smiled, seemingly happy about being able to do something other than escort. The rest settled down, embracing the small breather in the shadow. As they reached the carriage Athaal hurried over to his wife and sat down next to her, softly nuzzling her neck before resting on her stomach. Moxie whispered something to Athaal and they both shared a laugh, before she turned her weary gaze to Saif and smiled meekly.
He quickly turned away, catching himself staring. He sat down and started to unhinge the blade on his wrist, inspecting it thoroughly while chancing glances over at his brother and Moxie. No matter how much he told himself otherwise, he envied his brother. He found someone in which returned his feelings. The top plate of his wrist blade slipped and fell in the sand. He swore silently to himself for his own absent minded state. He didn’t want to take his brother’s place, not at all. He had no such feelings for Moxie. In part he resented her for what happened between her and Trixie in Canterlot. No, he did not want to take his brother’s place in the hoofs of Moxie, but more than anything he wanted what they had together with Trixie.
He sighed, knowing full well that he wasn’t sure it even was possible. A mare would never willingly submit to the doctrine of Saddle-Arabia, nor would he want her to do so. Equestria was very strict on granting asylum to anyone from Saddle-Arabia. Their cultures clashed and gave more trouble than help to most. Stallions would forget how different mares were over there and try to pronounce claim over those they liked. A watanï like him would raise suspicion, for they knew he had killed before, and they knew his instincts were honed to do just that. It had been more than once where a watanï had killed in accident in Equestria, to no fault but their instincts. He shook his head, feeling himself getting emotional over the thoughts of his limitations.
He took another glance and saw Athaal walking over towards Arien and Kazim, hunching down while drawing in the sand with a stick. Both of the veterans grew serious features in their aging faces as Athaal explained further until lastly, they both nodded and pointed towards the Rift of Bak’An.
Saif lifted a hoof, signaling that the Linacs started to turn in for the day and they were to make ready. Athaal had informed everyone that they would wait by the Rift of Bak’an till they arrived and to make sure that the camp was setup to take in an injured mare. At the announcement of the two veterans being in charge till that time, the remaining squad had taken to show some disagreement that quickly simmered down.
They arrived at the oasis again in the afternoon, and since then waited near the camp for twilight to come. The chipper of birds lessened as the light vanished, until only the sound of crickets low buzz of insects remained. The brutish sound of the Linacs finally grew lower, growls being replaced by loud hisses. Saif waited for another hour before he gave the signal to move closer, confident that the increasing insect sounds and looming darkness would cover their entrance.
The forest illuminated itself with glimmers from sunflies and the inkling light from the moon and stars. Pebbles of water turned to small balls of light rolling down the leaves and hitting the rich soil in a shattering motion. Their breath became a sky of mist as it left their muzzle. The light that danced in the forest slowly turned orange from a flickering bonfire, growing in intensity along with the hiss of slithering throats. On the bare soil the Linacs lay spread out. Two were near the fire and cage, while the two others had laid to rest in the darker and colder area at the outer reach.
Athaal hunkered down next to him and shared his view, he turned and whispered. “Do you remember what to do, and where to stab?”
Both L’oohm and Zubair nodded and pointed at the two points on their own throat. Saif looked at Zubair. The graduate had been frozen stiff with fear the moment they arrived and he laid eyes on the Linacs. It took several minutes to calm him down, and to convince him that they didn’t really need to fight them as long as they did it right. He began to question his decision to take him along once more, but no matter what happened it was too late to change now.
“Athaal and I will take care of those two near the cage, you two will make sure to take those two.” Saif added, and pointed towards the reach. “Once we’re done, we will make a hasty retreat, understood? If we do this without any mishaps, we should be able to be at the Rift of Bak’an before sunrise.”
Saif carefully cut down the branches to let them enter without a fear of backlash, and carefully put them down. All four made way to their intended target and kneeled down. He looked down at the Linac and swallowed; they were much bigger than he remembered. The jagged teeth barely hid the blood red tongue that moved in tact with their heavy breaths. The fingerlike claws opened and closed, clacking together. The tail sliced through the air and hit the ground with a dampened thud. It filled him with a sense of wonder and fear. The terrifying power of them remained all too real in his memory from the time he had been out scouting with a squad of soldiers as part of his training. It had taken only one Linac to kill off the whole squad, save three ponies. He often thought, if they had been more intelligent, they could have easily taken out the kingdom by gathering into an army. Knowing this also made him wonder why the king had taken the knowledge of Linacs out of the theoretical classes.
He looked over at Athaal. The Linac in front of him had curled up, hiding the spot of the vocal cords. Athaal’s lips split into a devious grin as he put away the dagger and drew out his broadsword. He took a few steps back and aimed the sword downwards. He looked at Saif and nodded as he placed his right hoof at the back of the hilt and made ready for a charge.
Saif readied his own two blades as he heard the sound of metal slicing through soft skin behind him. A quick glance showed him that one of the beasts was down and that the two soldiers had cooperated, moving quickly to the next one. He took a deep breath and returned to his own target. Almost touching the Linac with the tips, he stepped backwards and unfurled his wings. With a strong bat he flew forward and pierced the skin, piercing both vocal cords and brain. Withdrawing his hoof from the gaping wound from the now twitching Linac, he nodded to Athaal.
Athaal charged forward and let his sword pierce through the skull and scales of the beast in one motion, sending a loud crack echoing through the oasis; quickly followed by a twitch from the Linac, confirming death. As Athaal ducked away from the stream of black blood that shot out through the wound, he took hold of the hilt and pulled it out, earning them another crack from its jawbone.
From behind they heard a guttural scream, followed by a loud thud. The last Linac stood above L’oohm, crushing him slowly underneath its large hand. The beast snarled, and pressed down harder until a snap that reminded them of a tree breaking in a storm could be heard as the armor gave in and pieces started to protrude L’oohm’s skin. The soldier made a last scream as the ground beneath him slowly turned crimson, before the Linac put his whole weight behind, crushing every bone he could.
Saif and Athaal rushed forward as the Linac growled and turned its attention to Zubair. He stood frozen in shock, eyes wandering from the crushed body of L’oohm to the monster that was slowly getting closer, each step bellowing like thunder to the ground. The beast slowly lifted its arm, making ready for a swipe.
“Move!” Athaal screamed from the top of his lungs, snapping Zubair out of his trance.
Zubair attempted to dodge, but the swipe came fast enough for the claws to graze through his armor. An arch of blood whipped forward from the end of the swipe, and Zubair screamed in pain. As he landed, his legs wobbled and buckled under him. As he fell down, he clutched his hoof over his chest in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.
“The tail!” Saif yelled as he flared his wings and shot forward.
Athaal swiped the sword overhead in an arch, landing a solid hit at the tip of the tail. The Linac roared in pain and swung its huge arms around, hitting the wounded watanï on its path. Zubair was sent flying into a tree, the sound of branches and bones breaking alike as he landed. Athaal placed his hind legs deep into the soil and blocked the strike with the sword; scraping backwards as it hit.
Seeing his chance, Saif jumped up at a tree over the beast, extended his wristblade and dashed forward in a burst of speed. He landed heavily on the large scaly neck and momentarily struck both blades down, one in each eye. The Linac heaved its head backwards, sending Saif crashing into the tree he leaped from. The impact from the crash sent mind numbing pain through his whole body, knocking the air out of his lungs.
The Linac roared, holding both hands over its head as blood seeped down on the ground from the wounds. Then he stopped and let both arms fall to the ground. Slowly a rattling from the throat emerged, filling the loose skin under its jaw with air.
HaSheaga! Was the thought that echoed through Saif’s mind as stars played over his vision. “Athaal, kill it fast! Befor—“
Before he could complete his sentence, a deafening roar sounded. Him and Athaal to covered their ears. The sound hammered their bodies, effectively paralyzing them both as long as it lasted. The ground beneath them vibrated, and leaves along with small branches got ripped off their trees. It was like they were standing in the making of a hurricane. As quickly as it came, it subsided, leaving only silence behind. An echo from afar occurred, resembling thunder.
Athaal, gaining his wits first, leaped forward and trusted his sword through its skull, ending its progression with a loud crack as it protruded through the scales on top of the head. The beast wobbled forward, crushing Athaal under its weight.
*~*~*~*~*
Moxie’s head jolted up and turned its attention to the sky. She heard thunder, she was sure of it. But no rain followed and the dark, star spangled roof remained unlit by any lighting. Her eyes remained fixated towards the horizon, listening intently as the sound grew in intensity before abruptly ending.
She unwillingly shook the uneasy feeling that grew in her and turned and looked at the camp. They had found a secluded fertile area under one of the hillsides to set up. Most impressive, she thought, was that such an area so rich with life, could exist in the middle of the desert. They were like the oases, but this was different in a sense. The walls towered up, arching over them, seemingly letting just enough light in for it to flourish. At night she barely saw a slit of the starry sky. Holes burrowed out from underground rivers filled up small gulps, creating waterholes throughout. Small animals had skittered away as the group arrived. Now and then she still saw them staying barely within their vision between the thick brush, ever wary of the new presence in their home.
The squad had begun setting up camp and clearing a fireplace the moment they arrived, almost like a well-oiled machine. As soon as the tents were up, they begun replenishing water. Lastly, Rishad held a sermon for Eran in a makeshift, portable chapel. He somehow kept the attention of all of them, no matter how rowdy they were.
She made way towards the camp from the small rock she had perched herself on. Only moments after they had arrived, she felt her body growing numb from exhaustion, she did have the cart available to rest on, but she didn’t want to add more burden to Arien whom pulled it instead of Athaal. Seeking solitude was something Rishad suggested quickly after they arrived. It would help in keeping her mind in order. She didn’t mind it at all, but something was missing. More importantly, someone was.
As she reached the bottom of the steep rock wall, Arien approached her, while behind him stood Kazim talking to the squad. Arien had dark brown eyes, with deep eye sockets. A broad jaw line and strong muscles jarred over his neck and chest. His mane, tail and beard showed the first sign of aging, where the black was interrupted by strands of grey. A scar ran down his neck, painting a pink wound in his hazel brown coat. His face always showed a mask of resolution, but his actions and words showed a kinder stallion.
“Are you alright, my Lady?” He asked quickly as he reached her, inspecting her with a frown over his forehead.
Moxie put up a hoof, “Yes, I’m fine, just a little weary from the travel.” She said with a sigh.
“Excuse my brashness, but does the roar not worry you?” He asked, looking at her with a quizzical expression.
“Roar? That wasn’t thunder?” Moxie answered, feeling her heart beat faster.
“No, that sound was from a Linac, its roar can be heard for miles in the forest. In the desert it will probably be heard all the way to the border.”
She swallowed, “Does that mean… that Athaal…” The words stopped in her throat. She turned to face the horizon again, feeling strength drain from her legs. Her heart sunk in her chest while the worst possible scenario played out in her mind.
“I know Athaal and Saif, they are able to handle one of those monsters, they will be fine, I’m sure. Linacs only roar like that when they feel like they won’t survive. We will wait here till your husband returns, worry not.” Arien said and put a reassuring hoof on her shoulder, then withdrew it fast, knowing that to touch a housemare led to dishonor unless given permission.
Again feeling the fatigue slowly rearing its ugly head, she nodded, a little comforted by his words, but worry still lingered within her. “Thank you…my tent?” she quickly asked.
“In the shadowy corner, as instructed by the priest.” He answered, and pointed at the back of the camp.
“Then I will withdraw for the night,” She said and started past the veteran.
“Very well. Shall I ask one of the soldiers to come with a bowl of the food once it is done?” He asked.
“No…” Moxie halted, feeling a sudden urge to say something, a hazy thought that played over her mind. Malice, spite,and the prime urges rose within her. She thought how easy it would be to take a life out in the desert, and no one would know. Then her mind wandered unknowingly. A night together with Athaal; a night of raw instincts; a thought she never had had before. As her mind went on, dark brooding thoughts along with those sensual, her mouth was left open and her breathing slightly heavier. Her heart began to race, thundering within her. These thoughts scared her, and she didn’t know how to stop them. The haze over her eyes vanished, and seeing the confused look upon Arien, she gained the need to retreat hastily. “I wish to be alone, only Rishad is to disturb me, and once my husband comes into view by one of our soldiers I want to be awoken at once.” She ordered, a slight vibration in her voice.
“As you wish,” Arien said as he bowed lightly, his question remaining unanswered.
She hastily made way to her tent. Within her burned something, and whatever it was she did not wish others to see it if it was released. The tent was placed near one of the mountain walls, secluded within the branches of a couple of trees. The shadows created a cool sleeping area. Pushing aside the blanket used as a door, she quickly took off the gown she had traveled in and laid down on the bed of leaves prepared for her while wrapping a blanket around her.
The insides of the tent were bare apart from a few items. Mostly water tanks and provisions were stored up inside, away from the heat. At one of the sides she spotted Athaal’s saddlebags and pulled them close, packing them tightly up under her nose and relaxing in the welcoming smell of him. A sense of relief manifested itself, and her mind quickly cooled down, swaying away from the thoughts earlier.
She shuddered as she felt a tear roll down her cheek. Ever since their marriage, she had never had a night alone. The pressuring fear that something might have happened to him made her want to scream, from the top of her lungs. Feeling panic tighten her chest, she burrowed her nose in the saddlebags and wept as silently as she could. The fear from her uncontrollable thoughts together with her worry over Athaal became too much for her. Her body trembled while trying to keep her sobs under control. It was getting harder due to the disgusting feeling growing in the back of her throat.
She jolted together by the sound of the door flaps being pulled aside, quickly wiped away moisture and turned to see Rishad looking in with a warm smile. The old priest stepped inside and sat down next to the bed and placed a bowl of food on the grass covered floor. “Everything alright, Moxie?” He asked.
“Yes, thank you.” She answered with a nod.
He looked at her, a recognizing frown coming over him. She knew that her eyes showed signs of crying, and that he saw it. He looked at her as she imagined a worried father would look at his daughter. The old wise eyes landed on the saddlebags she held close, he closed them and remained still. A feeling of shame crept over her, and she hid the bags underneath the blanket.
Rishad opened his eyes again and tried a smile, but a strained smile full of regret appeared. “You should eat this before you take the medicine, I’ll be back to help you in a bit.”
Feeling panic hold tightly in her chest once more, “No!” she first yelled, then put a hoof to her muzzle, “I mean, no…I want to wait till Athaal has returned, so he can sit with me.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Moxie.” He leaned closer and looked at the opal, “the travel has wearied you out. You need to give more energy to the opal as soon as possible. Right now it seems like the glow is a bit dim.”
“Please, I feel fine. I’m just a bit tired and I want Athaal next to me…it feels safer with him.” She said in a sullen voice, boring the ground with her eyes.
Rishad hummed softly, then looked at her. “It’s your call, but if you feel any form of strange thoughts, or un-natural exhaustion, tell me at once?” He lastly said with a stern gaze at her. In her mind, she was certain Rishad wanted to tell her that Athaal might not come back. She was certain he needed to remind her. What would she then do? Rishad remained silent, not confirming her thoughts, and she wasn’t sure which she would have preferred.
Moxie nodded in response. As the priest rose and made way out, her mind went to the thoughts earlier. “Rishad!” she said.
Rishad turned, “Yes?”
She stared at his old form. The thought earlier was not normal: thoughts of betrayal, pain and…sex. She shook her head, deciding that it was just a coincidence. “Just…thank you.” She said and smiled towards him.
He nodded and left, leaving her once more alone in the dark as the flaps fell down over the entrance. She looked at the bowl of food, the warm smoke invited her to eat; but the lust for food was absent. Packing the blanket around her, she carefully laid down again so that her bulging stomach rested comfortably. Pulling the saddlebags up to her muzzle, she closed her eyes and imagined her husband’s embrace was still there.
*~*~*~*~*
Saif groaned and began to move away from his landing spot, his body was tender, but the tree hit had not been too hard. He could not say the same about L’oohm; right at the tail of the beast lay his crushed body. He stepped closer and leaned over, looking for some form of memorabilia to bring with him home to his family. After a quick glance, he concluded that the only item not soaked in blood or crushed was the helm. He took a last look at the body, feeling a sense of responsibility over it. He tried to prepare him as best he could. It would be little comfort for the family; ‘I tried’ helps so little when dealing with grief. He picked up the helm and placed it on his shoulder before he moved around the Linac. If he could only understand what had woken it up; perhaps it was the loud execute from Athaal?
“Athaal, are you alive?” He asked as he came around.
From underneath the head of the Linac a cough and groan came. “Yeah, just… get this damn thing off me. Its head is like a giant rock, in weight and form.” Athaal answered in annoyance. “And its oozing blood on me.”
He stifled a laugh, “Hold on, I’ll find a branch to jack it up with.” He turned towards a tree with bundles of broken branches, “Don’t move,” he added before walking away.
“Like I have much choice!” Athaal yelled in retort. “And check on Zubair as well. I’m afraid there’s no hope for L’oohm!”
Saif sighed as he walked over to where Zubair had been flung. He hoped the wounds he had gained were not too severe. If the claws only grazed him, and the branches cushioned the crash, there was still hope. If not, there was not much he could do; he knew that a direct blow from a Linac could easily shatter or break bones.
He picked up a suitable branch and flung it towards Athaal, before searching further for Zubair. Under the leaves of the broken branches he saw a hoof sticking out. Feeling a slight rush of relief, he moved the branches away. Moving the final large branch he saw what was before him. Flared wings were broken in twisted angles, with one limb broken; the ribcage was crushed inwards under the large gashes of his coat. Through the right shoulder a large branch had penetrated, dripping of crimson liquid. Saif snarled and quickly took a step back as Zubair moved.
“Zubair?” He asked carefully while slowly approaching.
“You found him?” Athaal yelled.
“Yeah…”
“Is he alive?”
“Not sure,”
“How can you not be sure?!” Athaal grunted.
“Hold on!” Saif retorted.
Saif placed a hoof over the neck of Zubair; the pulse was so weak it was almost impossible to find. He placed an ear over his chest, hearing sound of oxygen mixing with blood. Saif sat down and looked at the body pinned to the tree in front of him with sad eyes. He knew that Zubair would have no chance to survive the march over the desert, nor would he be able to survive here without any sort of immediate medical attention. Only the shoulder wound would be doable, but a crushed ribcage and at least one punctured lung left Saif with a grim task he did not enjoy.
At least he will not suffer any longer. He thought as he drew forth his dagger. He hesitated as he placed the dagger to Zubair’s throat. Saif felt the half-conscious eyes look at him as the blade came to a rest over the large vein. Saif tightened his lips, trying to focus his mind. He had done this many times, but it never got easy. He ended all possibility of what that life could grow into, and now he made sure the suffering at the end was as little as possible. Drops of blood fell from his mouth and onto the dagger’s blade as Saif sliced. It’s my fault… I’m terribly sorry.
He sheathed the dagger and began unhinging the wristblade on Zubair. Custom said that a watanï’s family would retrieve the blade if he ever fell in duty. Saif promised himself that on their return he would make it first priority to deliver this one. Telling the family that he died while saving the life of another pony would soften the blow for them. But no matter how he twisted it, their son would still be dead and it would still be his fault.
With a resigned sigh, he made way towards Athaal again, only to find his brother standing in the clearing, looking down upon the Linac and the body of L’oohm. Athaal shook his head and withdrew his sword from the Linac’s head. He dragged the blade through the grass, cleaning its blood before sheathing it in the hilt that ran down his side. They both headed towards the cage.
As they both looked down upon the bruised body of the blue mare, Athaal said. “I hope she’s worth it, Saif.”
Saif leaned down and cut the rope keeping the door shut, “I know she is, just you wait and see.”
“Yeah…wait and see…I wonder what they have done to her, I mean, being able to sleep through that? My ears are still ringing.”
Saif pulled the cage open and entered, carefully touching the bruise upon her shoulder. Hope lit up within him as she reacted to his touch; all had not been in vain. “I don’t know, but she’s alive, and that’s the important part.” He said as he took hold of one of her hoofs and attempted to pull her up on his back; legs quickly buckling under the weight.
Athaal hunched forward and took hold of them, “You’re hurt, let me carry her.” He calmly said, more a statement and an order than anything else.
Saif nodded and placed her down before looking towards Zubair. “What do we do with them? We can’t leave them here out in the open.”
“We bury them in shallow graves, and then leave as soon as possible, that shout is bound to have been heard by any nearby Linacs, and I’m not freely staying anywhere near this place when they come to check it out.”
Saif nodded, “Agreed,” he picked up a branch suitable for digging and tossed it to Athaal before he found another for himself. With resigned sighs, they dug.