Fleas - Songs of the Gnolls I

THE GREAT WALL 5.3

Zanarah looked angrily at Éwik, Fizkwik's youngest son. Kkelea could not understand why she hated him so much. The cub didn't seem to notice and walked among the Iron Claws quite naturally. You could tell he was much younger than his late brother.

"He shouldn't be here," Zanarah complained as soon as Éwik moved away.

"Neither should I. But these are strange times. Besides, his mother put me in charge of looking after him. After what happened to his brother, it's only natural that she wants to protect him, and he'll be safer with us than with the other cubs."

Zanarah smiled and shook her head.

"Look at you, you already sound like your mother."

Kkelea made an almost invisible grimace.

"And you fight like yours. I heard great things about your sister as well. Helirah was her name, right?"

Zanarah frowned and bared her teeth, staring into the void as if the ghost of her sister was there, right in front of her.

"You'll soon met her, and you'll see that my anger is justified. In the meantime, don't be too smart."

The practice rounds continued for a while. Kkelea fought Handless and three other warriors. She lost every fight, but with some dignity. Éwik, fortunately, didn't seem to be interested in participating, since any of the Iron Claws would have beaten him up without a second thought. However, from time to time Kkelea would urge him to practice, at least with her; to be a little more aggressive. That it was important to fight for respect and that every challenge should be met without fear.

The blackened sky awaited their prayer to the Storm, as it did every time it was about to rain. The Eternal Spring welcomed them with open arms until they left at dawn. Zanarah reminded them of the importance of maintaining order on the march, and told them that a bird-like creature had recently arrived with the good news that the rest of the rebels were approaching. The orcs were preparing their supplies at this time, so from time to time they saw one of them wandering through the vegetation, pouring poison on their weapons and picking fruit from the trees and bushes, especially the root of a fuchsia plant with blue spots that was protected by fences and that the orcs had insisted they not touch.

Éwik interrupted the speech with shouts as he broke through the crowd in search of Kkelea. Zanarah's face was red with rage, and with one look Kkelea understood that she had to take him away.

Once they were far away from the others, the little one showed that he had stuck a thorn in his arm while playing with the frogs. Kkelea pulled it out mercilessly. Éwik looked at the blood and, his eyes watering, asked her to sing for him.

"I can't sing. You should go to the Voices of Rock, they will heal you."

"But you can scream, right?"

Kkelea looked away.

"No, to tell you the truth, I haven't found my scream yet. I should ask my mother how to do it."

The cub sat down on the grass. He seemed to have forgotten the pain.

"My mother told me that the scream is magic that comes from the chest, that it takes the anger, the pain, or the biggest feeling you have and lets it out. That the more you suffer, the stronger the effect. And singing is peace, love and care. That's why it heals."

"Your mother knows a lot about it, not for nothing is she called Fizkwik the Scream. Can you use it?"

Éwik shook his head. He had lost his brother, and all his life he had been mistreated because he was a male, but he didn't seem to suffer. Maybe he could sing in the future. Healing others was a far more valuable gift than hurting them, or so she would think if she were not a warrior.

She felt footsteps at her back. They were two of the Distant Teeth, the warriors her mother commanded. She understood that they were searching for her. She scratched Éwik's head and said in a soft voice:

"For now, go back to the rest of the cubs. Later I'll teach you how to hunt. And do not touch the poisonous frogs!"

When the little one had gone, one of the warriors said to her:

"Your mother..."

"She's looking for me. Yes, yes. Take me to her."

Kkrya was speaking to the orc general who had ridden the lebrillope when she saw her, then nodded slightly, indicating to him that he should leave. The orc walked away without saying goodbye or even turning his head. They were strange, they seemed to have no feelings when they were at peace, but when they fought, they became ferocious, comparable to hyaenids.

"Leave us alone," the Teeth gave a curt bow and obeyed. "Daughter, sit down."

"What is it now?"

Kkrya did not answer. Kkelea rolled her eyes and complied.

"I hear you have a good relationship with Zeppel's daughter.

"That's right, she says I'm her apprentice. These bruises all over my body are proof of that."

"And what about Fizkwik?"

Kkrya raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"I wouldn't say we have a good relationship, more like an understanding of grief over the death of his son. I see what you're getting at. Yes, I realise that you know everything I do. And yes, I take care of her other son. It's just my way of righting a wrong I committed."

Kkrya shook her head in disappointment. She snorted and sat uncomfortably across from her. She looked exhausted, as if the winters were beginning to weigh on her. Kkelea used to forget her age and let herself be fooled by the presence she still had in the tribe. She was the strongest, but also the weakest."

"You don't understand, daughter. Not really. You are not to blame and you owe nothing to anyone. I'm concerned about the future of the tribe. Traditions weigh less and less on the minds of the matriarchs. I suspect the worst in Fizkwik. And I doubt Fátrwa's loyalty as well. They want the best, but they don't know what the best is. And you are in the middle," she looked down at her trembling hands, her brown fur dotted with white hairs that gave it a faded hue. For a moment, Kkelea felt sorry for her. "I am not eternal. And when I am gone, Zeppel will be surrounded. Even she could not contain two matriarchs together. To make matters worse, we will soon encounter the second tribe. I don't know how much you know about it, but it is made up of exiles. And they are led by Helirah, the worst of them all."

"An unprecedented chaos is coming, a storm such as has never been seen before. I need to know, daughter, that when the time comes, you will be on the right side. If you hear a single word against the traditions from any mouth, even from a matriarch, you must tell me or Zeppel. Is that clear to you?"

"What if it is my own mouth that utters those words? What if I am tired of pushing away those I love just to obey a whim handed down from generation to generation?" She wanted to say. Instead, she looked down in embarrassment and replied, "Yes, I promise."

Kkelea stood up, ready to leave when she saw her mother's angry face.

"I also know about your little visit, daughter. I hope you understand that this is a test, and I will not hesitate to punish you if you fail. I prefer my legacy to be protected by a stranger to my blood, but loyal to my ideas."

Kkelea clenched her hands. So much so that she could feel her claws digging into the pads. She left without answering.

She waited in the darkness, slipped over to where the cubs slept, covered Éwik's mouth before waking him so he wouldn't scream, and took him out of the tent."

"Shh, don't say anything," she whispered, taking him by the arm.

Still asleep and walking awkwardly, Éwik asked in a low voice where they were going.

"Let's go to your mother."