Heretics And Sheep

10: Sand and Tears

The SaHraa'di bodyguard led them to a towering double door. Marcus deduced that the hallway was built into the cave, as its ceilings were dramatically high and uneven in places. These doors, however, he could not make out. They stood at about ten meters high and were impossibly ornate. The material was a strange white wood, and its reinforcements were intricate gold curves; they almost looked like flowing cursive as they crept up and across the door. Perfect, circular gems sat in the corners, nestled by gold, nearly floating there. After the fanatic bowed and departed, Barabbas opened the doors. They were bathed in a glow of mushroom light, which mingled with the god rays from the hallway.

"...Kept us waiting, boy."

The voice was old and powerful, almost epic. Barabbas stepped in while Marcus stood in the doorway. The Elder Council consisted of five SaHraa'di. Each sat on a timber chair behind a semi-circular wooden table; the same wood from before, impossibly white and seemingly indomitable. Carvings on the table said otherwise, with more circular motifs and loose, cursive-like symbols, just like the door. An odachi lay against the middle of the table, behind it, its wielder sunk back into his chair, hands on lap. These weathered and experienced hands were held by Kaber'naud Galius, presumably the most "Elder" of the council, looking deep into his middle ages, complete with a sharp moustache and matured hairline. His hair was black and his eyes matched it; his nose was scarred across, ending in deep marks that cut down into his right cheek. Also scarred, were his eyebrows which shifted along with his wrinkled eyes as he fired out his next words.

"Head Commander... Barabbas Al'ul'tisal."

"Hello Kaber." The Desert Reaper returned his greeting. "You wanted to see the foreigner? Since you came all this way..."

Barabbas continued. "The five most influential Head Commanders...you wouldn't all gather just for me."

"We heard...You lost a Blood Duel to a Mae'dinoi." This voice came from his right, it was calm and gentle, befitting of Jericho The Beauty.

She sat down between Kaber'naud and a white-haired teenager. She was the only one there not wearing her SaHraa'di cloak, instead opting for a turtle neck that clasped her figure favourably. Her hair was in a Hime cut with a ponytail, sporting a striking magenta which looked more purple under the bioluminescence of the room. Her eyes were a pale blue and they danced like clouds as she spoke.

"Did you let him win? I can't imagine the great Desert Reaper actually losing to anyone, let alone some foreigner."

To maintain her friendly facade, her tone shifted to concerned and as she finished her sentence she leaned in on the table, a hand holding her cheek in place. She seemed completely relaxed but to Barabbas there was no doubt she was fully fixed on him, waiting.

"I lost the duel and I am honoured to have paid its debts... but the Maedin is nothing special, I just got careless."

A woman's voice let out a perverse chuckle.

"Heh heh heh..."

It came from Sarah GenesArict on Barabbas's left.

"We Head Commanders are gods of this wasteland, dispatching some foreigner is nothing."

Her pouted lips did nothing to hide her teeth as she spoke, with her pupil-less, blue eyes she stared past Barabbas; it was hard not to be unsettled by her.

"You are not fooling me...or perhaps, your age really is weakening you. Wouldn't that stir the pot?" As she spoke that last sentence her bare brows rose, brushing against her dishevelled fringe.

Sensing an argument about to begin, the white-haired SaHraa'di sighed and looked to Marcus, who stood unnoticed in the doorway. Their brown eyes studied Marcus in silence. Meanwhile, Barabbas started to tear into Sarah.