Chenga

Nightmare

Gamesh sat on his raised chair, looking down at the human standing before him.  He hated humans.  He hated their weakness, their smell, the fact that they were so small... oh Kamora, Goddess of Vengeance, did he hate small people... but mostly he hated the devious nature of humans.  The K'Vathin were slippery, cunning and conniving, but humans were worse.  With the K'Vathin at least you knew they were no good.  You always knew the K'Vathin were out to cheat or kill you, but with humans you never knew what they would do.  Friendly one moment, treacherous the next: the uncertainty was what he hated most about humans.

The man before him now was from the Kula-Mar, and was smooth as black silk.  His clothes were well cut, no scars marked his face, only that annoying smile.  No tattoos, no cuts; his face was a blank canvas upon which anything could be written.  The warmth of friendship surrounded him, but, as ever, Gamesh distrusted that warmth.  The cold steel of hatred was better than such warmth.  Deep brown eyes, strong features: the man was a perfect human and that thought raised the hair on the back of Gamesh's neck.  He tried to put down his feelings and concentrate on the business at hand.

'Now, Gamesh, you say you have the two men, Nirgalen and Simarl?'

'They left Kimlar this morning.  They are headed for the Tomb of Katchu-Pek.  We will have them before daybreak.'  As Gamesh said this, he knew that he, too, was playing a very human game of half-truths and hopes, rather than hard fact.  That grated on him even more.

'Good.  I trust your word as a Peytahn.  Now, we have something in mind for them.  If you let me know when you have them; we want them alive.  You'll receive the usual payment.  I'll return tomorrow, at noon.  May your hunt go well.'  The man raised his black, gloved hand in farewell and strode from the room.

Gamesh was worried.  And worry was a rare companion for a Peytahn.  The humans had left town, but his men had not seen them since.  Five dead K'Vathin had been found, but his Peytahn trackers had lost the trail.  Why he had not been told about the two drug smugglers in the first place made him even more angry.  The fact that he had been drinking with them, and, even worse, given them weapons after that stupid game with the bottles, well, that just added to his fury.  And he had even thought he liked that human who had got the better of him.  It was a bad day and another reason to hate humans, perhaps that was the lesson to be learned here.

Gamesh's trackers had gone to the ruins of Katchu-Pek, but the humans were not there.  Muldoon the Innkeep, after being questioned a second time, told the trackers that the men were looking for the old wise woman, Elkira.  Before daybreak, his men would head to the Shardahn Temple.  Gamesh scratched his head.  Oh for a simple life!  He longed for the childhood days of the simple hunt: you tracked the prey... you scented the prey... you cornered the prey... you killed the prey.  How could his men have lost the scent?  The men were of his clan, his blood, good blood, but how could any Peytahn lose a scent?  He shook his head.

The sun was stumbling its way below the hills and night was coming.  Gamesh was tired: too much ale and not enough action.  In a few hours the men would return, hopefully with the two humans, then they could have some entertainment.  The Kula-mar wanted them alive, but there was a lot you could do to a human without it dying.  A lot of things.  Maybe something involving glass bottles...

The large stone room was quiet, except for the crackle of the fire.  Gamesh moved over to the fireplace and picked up a log.  He felt the rough bark and hefted the weight of the wood.  He longed to use the hunk of wood as a club: to take out his anger on something.  Instead he shook his head and threw the log on the fire.

Two dull thumps sounded on the oak door.  Another visitor!  Gamesh prayed to Kamora that it wasn't that damned human again.

The door opened.  A short figure entered and Gamesh was relieved to see it was Eylana, his half-sister.