Death Be Not Proud

by ShinigamiDad

Loose Ends

Reaper emerged from the mist lying over the Zuri River, and rode up to Baro and his men huddled against the cold around a brazier at the river’s edge.

Reaper pointed at Baro and his diminutive companion: “You two--untie the ferry and get me across the river. I need to be to Lord Yunada before the dawn.”

Baro waved at his partner and turned to Reaper: “Right away, m’Lord! But we thought you’d take a bit of a lie-in after your recreation!”

“New intelligence came to me yestereve, and I need to get to our Lord before his morning rituals.”

Baro nodded: “Ah, yeah--no breakin’ in on that!”

Reaper looked east over the river at the grey false dawn and pulled a plug of zaka out of his pocket: “Correct. And speaking of--do not ‘break in’ on the parzaile. I will return mid-day, and expect to enjoy a second helping after she sobers-up a bit.”

Baro glanced at the zaka and pursed his lips: “Oh, the good shit! Yeah, a backwater village cunt like her’s never had the strong stuff, eh?”

“No, and she’s going to need a few hours to tighten back up. Do not disturb.”

Reaper walked Colt onto the small jetty and onto the ferry as Baro took the rope and his companion hoisted a lantern on the stern.

He turned back to Baro: “In fact, I need you to join your cohorts on the west side of the village. Your mate, here, will remain on the east bank of the river for the moment.”

Baro saluted and disappeared up the riverbank, into the fog to retrieve his picketed dalzi.

Reaper held Colt’s reins as the small, rumpled man accompanying him pushed the ferry off the shore with a pole, and called out to the opposite bank to haul against their end of the rope.

The shallow barge creaked and lurched as the crew on the opposite bank pulled the two men and Colt across slowly. Reaper’s attendant strained against the pole, pushing against the river bank and bottom as the dark water swirled by.

Reaper furrowed his brow and stared intently across the mist-shrouded river: “When we get to Lord Yunada’s tent I will need you to return to the riverbank and stand by with my mount. I may come myself or send a runner depending on what decisions are made, and haste will be needed.”

“Aye, m’Lord! Do you expect things to break today?”

Reaper shrugged: “Uncertain...hmm. What is your name?”

“Soros, m’Lord!”

“I am uncertain how events will unfold, thus our need for preparedness and vigilance, especially to the west.”

Reaper looked eastward toward the horizon at Larg breaking briefly through the mist and fog: “Do you fear death, Soros?”

Soros knitted his brows as the barge neared the eastern bank of the river: “Not really, m’Lord--as long as it’s a clean death. I figure the Lost Gods are long-gone, so I ain’t too worried about no judgements. You and Baro been good to me, so life’s pretty easy. I guess I’d miss that…”

“‘Good to you.’ Booze, zaka and cunt…”

Soros grinned, exposing zaka-stained teeth: “Yeah--exactly! Though I wouldn’t complain ‘bout gettin’ a bit more of the last one!”

Reaper closed his eyes and took a deep breath: “It’s not enough, Soros.”

“That’s what I’ve been sayin’!”

Reaper sighed and shook his head sadly as the ferry ground into the river bank and two green-clad soldiers stepped into the water to pull it ashore.

Reaper guided Colt ashore as Soros helped tie the ferry to a crude, temporary jetty. Reaper got into the saddle and snapped Colt’s reins.

Soros jogged alongside Reaper and his dalzi: “Are the rumors true, m’Lord?”

“Which ones? There are so many…”

“Gindu’s actually holed-up in the fort with his Guard.”

“That is the gist of what my most-recent intelligence has told me. It appears his 'escape' to the southeast with his vanguard may be a trap designed to lead our forces away from the fort and into the arms of an unexpectedly-strong opponent, while Gindu slips away.”

“Fuckin’ coward!”

“True, physical courage has never been his strong suit, but I suspect that’s secondary. I assume the real goal is to lead our forces into a trap in the forests to the southeast.”

“‘Cause we think we’s chasin’ a small, scattered force.”

“Correct.”

“Yeah, but Lord Yunada’s not dumb enough to fall for that!”

Reaper halted Colt beside a low, earthen embankment and hopped down, handing Soros the reins: “It has nothing to do with being dumb or smart. Even the most brilliant commander can act honestly on false information, unaware they’ve been led astray.”

Soros grinned: “Sure, but he’s got you to watch out for that kind of skullduggery, yeah?”

Reaper blinked slowly: “That is indeed why I’m here. Now, head back down toward the river. It appears a reconnaissance platoon has picketed their mounts a bit north of the path. Settle-in with them if you like, but do not let the Sergeant in charge attempt to attach you. Make it clear to him that you are Yunada’s chief Tunzal’s man.”

Soros nodded: “Yes, m’Lord!”

Reaper turned away and passed through a cut in the earthworks. He bent slightly to his right toward a large, dark-green-and-red tent when something caught his eye, silhouetted against the pale eastern horizon. He froze.

Reaper waved over a spearman who was guarding the gap in the embankment, and pointed to a warped metal cage suspended some ten feet above the ground by chains hung from a crude iron scaffold. The remnants of a large fire smoldered below, and the blackened cage contained a twisted, charred corpse.

Reaper stared at the cage: “When was the sut’ka used?”

“Dunno. Mayhap six hours ago? Fire was already down to coals when I came on duty.”

Reaper furrowed his brow and absently fished in a pocket for a plug of zaka: “Thank you. Please return to your post.”

The soldier shrugged and wandered back toward the embankment as Reaper headed toward Yunada’s command tent, glancing once more over his shoulder at the soot-encrusted cage.

A guard stepped out from inside the tent’s opening, naked sword in hand: “Greetings, Tunzal! Our Lord awaits your arrival.”

Reaper nodded absently as the guard pulled back the heavy canvas flap. Odors of incense, charcoal, hot metal and burnt flesh wafted out as Reaper stepped inside.

A tall, slender man turned from a rough-hewn, iron-banded table: “Greetings, Gerrar! It has been too long! I always appreciate your reports, but miss the opportunity to lay eyes on you!”

Reaper bowed deeply: “I am of more use to you in the field, my Lord, but I will make a concerted effort to check-in more frequently, if you so desire it.”

Yunada grinned as his steel-grey eyes glittered: “You see, Nai’a? That’s how a clever man abases himself! Gerrar boxes me into a corner where if I demand his presence, it appears I am selfishly impacting the mission! And so he remains at liberty, free from my meddling!”

Reaper straightened: “My time is yours to command, Lord, but I assume you would rather have actionable intelligence and the victories that go with it, than my poor company.”

A broad, pale man with close-cropped, tonsured hair, wrapped in a deep-purple robe stirred in a heavy chair behind the table: “Maybe he knows it isn’t safe to flout your authority to your face, and so wisely finds reasons to stay on the road.”

Yunada smiled and adjusted his own, blood-red robe: “I presume you mean Gerrar’s, shall we say, lack of faith regarding Surjain’kos?”

Nai’a reached for his wine cup on the floor beside the chair and glared at Reaper as he took a swig: “Fuck ‘lack of faith!’ You gave the order that we were to worship and follow the teachings of the Goddess over two years ago, and your word is inviolate law! Where does he get off hiding out in the north, or more likely between some galdu’s legs, just to dodge his holy obligations?”

Reaper raised an eyebrow: “Given the fact that I am largely responsible for our Lord discovering and embracing the Goddess, I know better than anyone the assumed obligations.”

Yunada nodded: “Yes, and like many an ancient cleric or philosopher, you are an apostate. But I allow it since it keeps me on my toes, and sharpens my faith, as a whetstone hones the blade. I trust that in time you will find your own path to the flames.”

Nai’a grinned wickedly: “Maybe his time’s shorter than he knows!”

Reaper furrowed his brow and glanced at his rival briefly before shaking his head: “Speaking of ‘short time,’ my Lord, my contact from Degia finally connected me with his mole inside Gindu’s guard. I have found that previous reports are true: the bulk of Gindu’s forces have dispersed into the forests southeast of here in an effort to draw us into a trap. He is actually inside the fort with a light force, waiting for us to draw off so he can escape.”

Yunada picked up a heavy chalice from the table and took a drink: “Yes, that would seem like a logical plan.”

“The turncoat is awaiting a signal to compromise the gates, and allow us to ride in with a shock force of your best warriors. The company need not be large--Gindu’s guardsmen are doughty, but few. We should outnumber them two or three-to-one.”

“And you would ride with us? That’s unusual.”

Nai’a belched: “One might almost say ‘suspicious.’”

Reaper chewed the inside of his mouth for a moment: “I will need to give the signal. I’m aware that combat is not my forte, but this mission is more important than my personal safety.”

Yunada put his chalice down and glanced at the large map spread on the table before him: “Indeed. And you say Gindu would escape? Where?”

Reaper looked over the map: “Given the terrain, and his belief that our forces have gone southeast, I would assume he’d go north.”

Nai’a chuckled as he drained his wine cup, and Yunada slowly ran his finger up the East road: “North. Yes. Are you familiar with Rixk’a?”

Reaper coughed suddenly to cover his surprise: “I beg your pardon, my Lord--the smoke in here caught in my throat for a moment.”

Nai’a reached up under his robe and scratched: “Yeah, something got caught, that’s for sure!”

Reaper took a deep breath and faced Yunada: “Am I missing something, my Lord?”

Yunada chewed his lip for a moment as he regarded Reaper: “It appears so. Guard! Bring in the prisoner!”

Reaper turned as two grey-clad soldiers emerged through a flap at the back of the tent, connecting the main pavilion to a smaller antechamber tent. The soldiers were dragging a short, disheveled man between them. They dumped him roughly at Yunada’s feet. Reaper froze mid-breath.

Yunada regarded the huddled form at his feet: “An outrider patrol picked him and his companion up yesterday afternoon as they scurried down the East road, trying to avoid detection.”

The warlord turned back to the table and retrieved his chalice: “The patrol determined they were run-of-the-mill bounty hunter/trader types, and were about to release them--”

Nai’a chimed in from his chair: “After a suitable ‘donation,’ no doubt!”

“No doubt. But then one of them made mention of some information that might be of value…”

Sagu looked up from the floor, face bruised and tear-streaked: “I already told ‘ya everything I knows, m’Lord! Please don’t--”

Yunada held up a hand: “Enough. Do you recognize the man standing next to me?”

Sagu turned his swollen, red-rimmed eyes to Reaper and squinted for a moment, until a look of recognition washed over his features: “Oh, yes m’Lord! He’s the one I was tellin’ you about! He ain't got no hair now, but 'e's the one!”

Sagu got up on his knees and clutched Reaper’s cloak: “Oh, please sir! Tell yer Lord everything I said was true! Oh, by the Gods they burnt-up Sumi! He screamed forever but couldn't tell nuthin’! They didn’t ask nuthin of him!”

Reaper swallowed hard and stared down at Sagu: “That’s because they wanted your information. Sumi’s torture was for your benefit, and I assume it worked, crude though it was.”

Nai’a spat and slouched further into his chair as he took up his wine cup: “Oh, it worked just fine, Tunzal. I don’t have your gift for cleverness or invention, but we were in a hurry, and you had yet to grace us with your presence!”

He looked over at Yunada: “Why do we even need this insolent traitor? I can handle interrogations and intelligence just fine!”

Reaper took his eyes off Sagu and glanced coolly at Nai’a: “That would require you to get out of both your chair and your cups. I fear both are beyond you, now.”

“Says the fucking zaka addict!”

A thin smile spread across Reaper’s face: “Better that than mets’il…”

Nai’a glanced nervously at Yunada: “That’s a lie! That substance is forbidden in our Lord’s camp, and you know it!”

Yunada rolled his eyes and held up a hand: “Enough, both of you!” He turned to Nai’a: “You see now why I keep this ‘insolent traitor’ around--he keeps us both on our toes!”

He licked his lips and turned back toward Reaper: “However, I fear Nai’a may have a point when he calls you ‘traitor.’ Our unfortunate guest, here, told a fantastic tale of meeting a tall, dark-skinned princess and her attendant well north of here, then encountering them again in Rixk’a. Have you been to Rixk’a in the last few days?”

Reaper took a deep breath: “I presume he is speaking of the T’zesa Luna. Yes--I encountered her several weeks a ago in an attempt to ascertain the location of Zaldun.”

Nai’a belched: “Zaldun is a myth. You’re dragging one of your dressed-up galdu around with you now instead of just hiring cunt locally.”

Reaper smiled indulgently: “Zaldun is a legend, not a myth, and the T’zesa is very real. And should you come into her presence, I suggest you not call her that if you wish to keep your tongue in your head--she can flash quite the temper!”

Yunada raised an eyebrow: “Then where is she?”

“I parted ways with her a couple of days ago. I told her I had business with you, my Lord, and she wished to see if she could find an agent from Degia. She is searching for ‘the powers of the South,’ to use her term.”

Nai’a stood up and kicked Sagu aside: “And why the fuck would you let her go, traitor? So she could pass secrets along to Degia?”

Reaper laughed: “Degia? That would be like passing secrets along to a lame dalzi, for all the risk it would entail! No, the real risk would be her turning to Gindu.”

Yunada furrowed his brow and nodded: “So Nai’a’s question still stands.”

“I gave her a detailed map and contact information for several Degian agents to the south and west of here. She will either end up there--slowly--and I can retrieve her after the battle, or, should she drift eastward, I assume she would be picked up by one of our patrols.”

Reaper glanced at Nai’a: “Assuming our esteemed sub-commander here has arrayed his forces competently--always a dangerous assumption, I grant you…”

“Fuck you. You still haven’t answered our Lord’s question, traitor: why didn’t you just bring your galdu here?”

Reaper turned to Yunada: “I know that you are not fond of surprises, especially on the eve of a great battle. I did not inform you of my exploration earlier, in case my quest ended up being a bust, and I did not bring her here, for fear of being a distraction.”

“That wasn’t your call, Tunzal--it was our Lord’s!”

Reaper looked over his shoulder at Nai’a: “I’m aware you’re accustomed to being kept on a short leash, but I am used to being given fairly broad latitude in carrying out my missions.”

He returned to Yunada: “Unless that displeases you, my Lord. In which case, I serve at your pleasure.”

Yunada chewed his lip for a moment and regarded Reaper closely: “We’ll discuss it later. What’s done is done for the moment, and your T’zesa--whatever she really is--is out-of-reach. But this concerns me, Gerrar. I have stayed in power as long as I have by keeping very close tabs on my underlings. When one appears to go rogue…”

A high horn note came from outside the tent, cutting Yunada short. He closed his eyes and sat down his chalice: “It is time for the ceremony, my brothers!”

Reaper began to back toward the pavilion’s entrance: “My apologies, my Lord, but I must go. The attack and my turncoat’s part in it depend on precise timing, and I have a few loose ends to resolve.”

Yunada frowned as Nai’a stepped up behind him: “I would prefer you stay, Gerrar--I am sure we can spare an hour. We have not shared the full experience of Surjain’kos’ holy day, and rarely do the moons rise together just ahead of the dawn. This calls for the full observance of the Goddess’ honor.

Nai’a turned aside, bent down and roughly jerked Sagu to his feet: “And we have our blood sacrifice all ready to go!”

He drew a dagger and poised it at the whimpering man’s neck. Reaper suddenly stepped beside Sagu and grabbed Nai’a’s wrist: “No, let me give the blood. You call me ‘apostate’--allow me to make some amends, my Lord.”

Nai’a wrenched his hand away as Yunada tipped his head sideways and licked his lips: “Very well. I will bring the guz’pa.”

Nai’a glared at Reaper then gestured at Sagu: “Guard--take the prisoner away. Stick him in the stockade; I’ll want to question him further, I’m sure.”

Yunada crossed the tent and lifted a shallow gold pan from a bronze stand. An attendant dropped a scoop of red-hot charcoal into an earthenware cup in the base of the stand as Yunada returned to the map table and held the pan in front of Reaper.

Reaper unsheathed his own dagger and winced as he dragged the tip across the palm of his left hand. Blood welled up from the cut, and Reaper squeezed his fist over the pan until the surface was spattered red. Yunada handed him a length of clean linen bandage and walked back to the ceremonial altar.

He sat the guz’pa back on its stand and began to chant and sing as the blood sizzled and smoked. He threw his head back and moaned ecstatically as Nai’a recited verses from a small scroll he had pulled from his robe.

Reaper closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as the sounds of Nai’a’s voice mingled with the clarion call from beyond the tent, and scents of hot metal and charcoal mixed with wine and scorching blood.

Mightier than any raging inferno here on Kur, you rise burning and indomitable above the rim of the world, oh Surjain’ko! Cleanse us! Garbi rahkin! Scorch away our impurities and lead us to a blazing new day as your heat courses through our veins!

Reaper shuddered as Yunada reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder: “It is time to reveal ourselves to the Goddess!”

Nai’a opened his robe and let it fall to the floor, leaving him clad in linen breeches that reached just below his knees. His hairy chest bore several scars and tattoos, and he held his arms wide as an attendant lifted a flap at the far end of the tent allowing a stream of sunlight to penetrate the smoky interior.

Reaper furrowed his brow and bit his lip as he turned away: “I apologize, my Lord, but I really must go. This afternoon’s attack is critical, and..”

“Remove your garment, Gerrar.”

Reaper stopped and swallowed hard: “I do not wish for this attack to go awry. I will return momentarily if you will but...”

“Guards--please help the Tunzal out of his tunic.”

Reaper closed his eyes and took in a long, shuddering breath as two soldiers reached for his arms: “Don’t touch me.”

He turned back to face Yunada and saw his long, wiry body clad only in a loincloth, nearly every inch of his tan skin scarred and rippled with burns and cuts and tattoos, many fairly-recent.

Reaper squared his shoulders and removed his tunic, handing it to an attendant who dutifully took it and hung it over a nearby rack. Reaper then pulled his shirt slowly over his head and handed it to the now-surprised attendant.

Nai’a gaped: “Not possible!”

Yunada walked slowly beside, then behind Reaper and ran his fingers over Reaper’s left shoulder blade: “It’s gone. How can this be?”

Reaper licked his lips as Nai’a took a step toward him, dagger drawn, blade glinting in the reddish light: “He’s a toa’bika! What else could it be?”

Reaper raised an eyebrow: “A doppelgänger? Now who’s trafficking in myths?”

Yunada moved back in front of Reaper: “I must admit that believing you to be a toa’bika is even harder than believing in Zaldun, but here you stand, with no scar on your shoulder. How do you explain this Gerrar, or is it Reaper?”

Reaper sighed: “That is the name I took these last several weeks. I also let my beard grow out and used a wig. I frequently use disguises and aliases--it keeps me alive and un-captured.”

Nai’a brandished his blade: “Until now, traitor! None of that explains a missing mark!”

Reaper suddenly chuckled: “Blank flank…”

“What?”

He shook his head: “Nothing. Just an old joke I once heard.”

“Well, you can laugh yourself silly in the sut'ka out front! Or maybe I could try my hand at a ‘Tunzal’s haircut.’ Those look especially gruesome!”

“You haven’t the skill. I’d have to do it myself.”

Nai’a lunged at Reaper, but Yunada slapped his hand aside, stepped in against Nai’a’s chest and drove him back towards his chair. Nai’a sat down with a thud and picked up his wine cup again.

Yunada turned back toward Reaper: “We’re not killing him until I figure out who he really is and where he came from. He’s right about one thing: I don’t like surprises, and this is a huge and troubling one.”

Reaper closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened his eyes again: “My Lord, I can explain everything after the battle, and once you have met the T’zesa. Zaldun has remarkable healing--well, I hesitate to use the word, but magic is the only way to describe it. I was injured and she healed me, inadvertently healing my old scar as well.”

Nai’a snorted in his cup: “‘Healing!’ Is that what you call getting your balls sucked by your whore?”

Reaper smiled coldly: “Again, I warn you against that, should you meet her. It would likely be the last mistake you ever make.”

Nai’a rolled his eyes and drained his cup.

Reaper turned back to Yunada: “My Lord, you have always trusted me. Trust me now--everything will be made clear once we have defeated Gindu!”

Yunada drifted back to the table and looked absently at the map: “Yes, I have always trusted you, at least to carry out my orders. I have never entirely trusted you not to have ulterior motives nor to harbor dark designs against my power.”

Reaper smiled sadly: “As you said--that touch of paranoia is how you’ve stayed on top...”

“Exactly--that, and playing you lieutenants off against one another. And even though I have no specific reason to suspect you of plotting, this tale of a T’zesa with magical powers, and your lack of a mark leave me very uneasy.”

He picked up Gerrar’s sword which the attendant had hung on a nearby weapons rack: “My force is fierce and battle-hardened, but not particularly large. I must pray and meditate before I take the next step. This will also afford me the time to send out some additional patrols.”

Reaper’s eyes widened: “No, my Lord--you must act at once and strike before the evening! Our window is closing fast, and all might be lost if we do not act soon!”

Nai’a stood up as Yunada stepped back and gestured for his guards: “You forget yourself, Gerrar! I must do whatever it is I determine to be best. All this talk of haste and closing windows makes me even more suspicious of your motives.”

Two grey-clad soldiers flanked Reaper as he tried to turn away toward the exit; one suddenly drove his mailed fist into Reaper’s abdomen, doubling him over.

Yunada shook his head: “Guards, take the Tunzal to the stockade.”

Nai’a bent down and lifted Reaper’s chin up and spat in his face: “Make sure to shackle this fucker, and gag him--he can talk his way out of anything with that greasy tongue of his!”

Yunada knelt in front of Reaper and looked into his eyes: “I will come later and interrogate you myself. You are too dangerous to leave alive now, Gerrar, but I at least owe you my personal attention.”

Reaper sputtered for breath as the guards hauled him back upright: “M-my Lord, please! It-it has to be--”

Nai’a glared and slammed his fist into Reaper’s throat: “Get him the fuck out of here!”

Yunada walked with the guards to the pavilion’s entrance as they dragged the struggling Reaper away: “You have taught me many useful things over the years, Gerrar. I promise to be efficient but swift when I meet with you later. But now I must pray to the Goddess for clarity. I suggest you do the same.”

The tent flap fell closed as Yunada returned to the tent’s dark, hazy interior and laid Gerrar’s sword on the map. Its tip touched Rixk’a.