Human, page 34
part #1 of Humanity Ascendant Series
“She wasn’t going to.” He leaned in slightly. “What have you done with her?”
Eth raised an eyebrow. “You already know, don’t you?” Varangians seemed to bring out his sarcastic side.
He refrained from insisting that he’d felt her intent. His current advantages, though caused by the Varangians, were nonetheless none of their business.
Unless, of course, they would eventually find out, which meant that they already knew. He drew a deep breath and blew it out.
Varangians were even more annoying to be around once you started to understand them.
“She seemed pretty determined to try,” he hedged.
“Oh, she had intent ,” Hjalmar allowed with a slight incline of his head, “but it was never going to happen. You know what I meant by that.”
What exactly did Hjalmar mean by ‘you know’? Eth wondered.
“What if she had succeeded?” Hjalmar asked. “Or, more to the point, what if the empire was thrown into turmoil? If it ceased to be the great entity that it is now, what would you and your Humans do?”
Eth had been watching the approaching barge, an antique that traveled only on the surface of the water. He tore his eyes away from the small craft and its doomed passenger to meet Hjalmar’s gaze.
“Your people don’t engage in idle speculation, Hjalmar. Given the… nature of your society, you understand better than most where it can lead.” He glanced around them.
Hjalmar chuckled. “Looking to see if anyone will come to ‘erase’ our discussion? Any correction would have occurred before this point, if you take my meaning.”
So, this talk is sanctioned, Eth thought. “Isn’t this a little reckless for your species? Warning me of future events…” He trailed off as Hjalmar leaned in.
“For all either of us knows,” the Varangian whispered, “we may have had a dozen different versions of this conversation before hitting upon one that leads to a favorable outcome.” He grinned. “Let’s hope this new tangent doesn’t send us back to the start again!”
“So you came here to warn me?”
A nod. “That and to watch your lord during today’s festivities .”
M ishak looked down at Uktannu. His uncle was chained to the ancient wooden deck on his hands and knees, the posture of an unevolved grazer a severe humiliation, especially here in the throne room.
They were almost up to the mooring posts and Mishak braced himself by putting his right foot up on his uncle’s posterior.
The barge crew tossed their mooring lines with unerring accuracy and the heavy ropes snapped taut, arresting their forward motion. Mishak flexed his right knee before pushing hard against Uktannu’s rump. The young prince recovered his balance and remained standing while the renegade at his feet, having taken on Mishak’s momentum, sprawled onto his face, his backside still ludicrously elevated.
Sandrak was furious. He’d threatened, cajoled and even begged for the right to carry out this ceremony but Mishak wasn’t about to waste diplomatic stature simply to please his father. As the noble who’d exposed and defeated Uktannu’s treachery and as the noble who’d assumed the renegades holdings, the right fell to Mishak.
The prince-presumptive would execute his own uncle for treason.
Not that he was very enthusiastic over the prospect. He’d given the matter a lot of thought, knowing his feelings would be on display to those in the barge and he’d settled on an emotion he’d honed during a lifetime as Sandrak’s son.
Cold anger.
He turned to Tashmitum who was better able to control her emotions. She emanated a firm belief in the rightness of the proceedings as she handed Mishak the axe.
Mishak had expected an epic struggle to get his family’s ancient axe but his new bride had assumed responsibility for the matter, assuring him that he needn’t worry any further about it. He looked down at the weapon.
The swirling cartouche, carved into the side-cheeks of the double-bladed weapon, indicated his wife’s family, not his own. He would execute this renegade with the same blade used by the emperor, five decades earlier, when he put the infamous Treasonous Trio to death.
Frank admiration. He looked up at her.
She met his gaze. Pleased acknowledgement
“Can we get on with this?” Uktannu snarled, his face still pressed against the smooth wood.
Mishak allowed himself to display amused admiration. His uncle had gambled and lost, but he’d shown courage in taking such a chance. He reached down and grasped Uktannu’s collar, pulling him back up to the all-fours position.
He brought the axe up and slit the tunic down the back, his eyes searching out the line where the back muscles bind to the spine.
A slow deep drum-beat began from the aft end of the barge and Mishak took a deep breath that was mirrored by Uktannu who could feel his nephew’s resolve suddenly crystalize.
Mishak brought the axe down gently to rest at the top of Uktannu’s spine on the left side. He drew it downward with a firm, forceful stroke and the thick muscle tissue of his uncle’s back drew away from the spine, curling as the renegade’s feet twitched.
He dipped the fingertips of his left hand into the bloody mess before he stood, facing the crowd around Tilsen. He dragged his fingers from the top right of his face down to the bottom left, leaving five diagonal red stripes reminiscent of the empire’s long-gone, barbaric death-priests.
Uktannu made no sound but his breathing was becoming shallow and rapid as Mishak grabbed the loose muscle tissue and pulled upward as he sliced the axe into the gap between meat and ribs, exposing the ribs fully.
Now would come the hard part.
He turned the axe, exchanging the slicing blade for the serrated one. Placing it along the left side of Uktannu’s rib cage, roughly two hands-breadths from the spine, he took a deep breath and then ground the serrated edge down and into the ribs, grunting with the effort.
It took him several tries before he broke through and he nearly botched the job when his uncle twitched, bringing the blade within inches of his cardiac pressurizers.
Mishak shifted his position, rotating the axe back to the slicing edge and he deftly sliced between upper and lower ribs to create a hatch in his uncle’s back. He placed the top tip of the blade at the upper part, where the ‘hatch’ hinged to the spine.
The axe-tip was designed for this exact purpose, as well as for an even more important one. It was an extension of the upper edge of the blade and served as a rather awkward knife.
He worked the tip down, around the ends of each rib, severing the ligaments and connective tissue binding them to the spine until the entire hatch could be lifted free of the body. The condemned traitor grunted as his organs were exposed to the cool evening air.
Mishak straightened and tossed the bloody rack of ribs overboard with a loud splash. With a shudder he looked down at the hideous mess, the cardiac complex pulsating obscenely.
It was time to end this. The waves of pain coming from his uncle were torturing everyone on the barge; a salutary lesson to all would-be traitors.
He adjusted his grip on the blood-slicked weapon so that the point was now aimed downward. He took another deep breath.
And then he paused.
Uktannu was struggling to say something. Mishak lifted the weapon away, oblivious to the moan from the watching throng, and knelt beside his uncle, leaning down to better hear his last words.
“… doomed. Brother… will never support… you…”
Mishak sighed. Of course Sandrak would make trouble for him but…”
“No, fool!” Uktannu snarled, voice shaking. “Your brother!”
Mishak sprang back to his feet in surprise. He stared down at Uktannu’s ravaged back without really seeing it. He’d always wondered if his father had another heir stashed away somewhere.
He looked up at Tashmitum as she touched his elbow. This delay in an execution was unseemly. He brought the axe-head over Uktannu’s body once more and plunged the tip into both of the cardiac pressurizers, the hot spray splashing wetly across his face.
His uncle was now irrevocably on the path to death. It was within Mishak’s rights to leave it at that, but Uktannu had provided him with useful information at the end, even if it had been meant as a taunt.
He brought the weapon up and swung hard. Uktannu’s head rolled away from his body, eyes blinking, and Mishak steeled his mind against the sudden surprise and terror coming from his father’s brother. It wouldn’t do for the assembled dignitaries to feel any weakness from a possible future emperor.
Then the thoughts faded and the head was empty, unreadable.
Mishak stepped back, returning the bloody axe to his wife and looked to the bank where the crowd, released from the silence of the spectacle, were building up a buzz of discussion. He saw Eth there, looking back.
E th had to admire his lord’s composure. The Human had no familial connection to Uktannu but that didn’t mean he could block out the condemned’s pain. He suspected he could reach out farther than the Quailu. The ones around him didn’t seem so affected but perhaps they were more accustomed to controlling it.
Did the Varangians also have this ability? Would Hjalmar be allowed to tell him?
“Where are you going from here?” Eth asked turning to the Varangian. He frowned, scanning the crowd. “Hjalmar?”
Well that’s just great . He shook his head. Hint at an imperial collapse and then just bugger off while my back is turned.
He sighed. Varangians…
Click this link to get started:
http://eepurl.com/ZCP-z
From The Author
S o… Eth has some interesting abilities. Using them comes with a cost and it’s not going to give him an instant ‘win’ button because, let’s face it, concentration is hard in a combat situation. Figuring out fields of fire and anticipating enemy maneuvers is still going to take precedence.
In book 2, Humans, the low level rash of brush-fire conflicts will intensify. The leading families of the Holy Quailu Empire will continue to grab what they can, taking advantage of the emperor’s damaged prestige to press their own agendas.
And a new pattern will emerge from the chaos.
The prophecy, revealed to Uktannu, spoke of the destruction of a great house. Has it already been fulfilled with his fall? Is there more to it? Was the oracle just some drunken fool, spinning nonsense to amuse himself?
The fight isn’t over for Eth and his people just yet. They’ll be very busy in the next installment, though what exactly they’re fighting for is less than certain.
Thanks for reading this story! If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a short (or long) review. Folks talk about marketing strategies for Facebook or Amazon but the one thing that makes the most difference to a story’s visibility is individual opinions.
Especially for a nobody like myself!
If you’d like to get some free novellas, you can get access to my freebie download page by signing up for my mail list. I don’t send out a ton of spam (honestly, you’ll probably forget who I even am by the time you finally get an email) and you can unsubscribe at any time.
Whenever I write a shorter story (anything under seventy thousand words) I load it at the freebie page for my subscribers. You can get your free stories by following the link on the previous page.
A G Claymore, Human
