Chenga

Call to Arms

On Chenga, the days had become weeks, the weeks became a month... and the boat was due.  The four gangs or clans lined the dock.  Of the five humans that arrived, apart from Nirgalen, Simarl and Eylana, only one remained alive; the wiry sneak thief adopted by the Verelag.  It turned out he was a cat-burglar and that seemed to be enough of a similarity for the Verelag.  The two women who went with the K'Vathin had simply 'disappeared', although the other gangs had their suspicions.  The two men who had gone with the Peytahns had died from eating raw spice.

Barrels of the fungus sat before the four gangs, reeking of the toxic narcotic.  The gangs were all in a good mood, for food, other than rats, fang fish, eagles and eels was now due in.

On the horizon a tiny speck could be seen.  Bit by bit it drew closer.  Chants of 'NEW FOOD' rang out from the prisoners.

Nirgalen turned, and saw a Shaddan moving in the corner of his eye.  Something about the look in the Shaddan's face didn't ring true, as the Murga would have said.  And then, time seemed to slow.  Nirgalen turned his head, as the Shaddan's poisoned, barbed tongue shot towards him.  Nirgalen closed his eyes and thought of his hand.  He thought of his hand, sharp as a K'Vathin blade, there in front of his face.  Nirgalen opened his eyes, just as the Shaddan's tongue struck.

Just as Nirgalen had thought, his hand struck the barbed poisonous tongue... and sliced it clean through.  It fell, with a harmless flop onto the dock.  The Shaddan was stunned and Nirgalen thrust his hand straight through the Shaddan.  The Shaddan, finally, just tumbled to the ground.  Nirgalen then recognised him as the Shaddan who had come in on the same ship as Nirgalen, just a month ago.  Nirgalen was confused as to why the Shaddan had just tried to kill him, when they had been living side by side for weeks.

All cries of 'NEW FOOD' had stopped.  Curious looks came Nirgalen's way, as he wiped his hand against his trousers.  A Verelag then ambled over, grabbed the corpse of the Shaddan and smiled.  'We''ll save this one for later.'

With that, all attention turned away from Nirgalen and back to the sail on the horizon.  Sure enough, it looked like The Ram and Nekrim Badu.

The ship slowed, as it neared the reef beyond Chenga.  Nirgalen looked down at the dock and saw the mark that he had scratched there, when he first landed.  It lined up perfectly with the white sails of The Ram.  Now Nirgalen just hoped that the crazy old priest had been right about the way off of the island.

Chants of 'NEW FOOD' rang out again.  There was only one thing on most of the prisoners' minds now.  But a few looked at the boat with questioning eyes.

A Peytahn sniffed the air.  'The ship smells different.  Smells like home.  That don't make no sense.'

A Verelag looked at the ship.  'Looks different, too... same ship.  Different crew.'

Nirgalen looked at The Ram and smiled.  It was just as Cauthen had told him.

The Ram tied up at the quay and twenty Peytahns trooped ashore, all carrying axes.  Nekrim Badu stood at the wheel, but two Peytahns stood either side of him.  It looked like the Peytahns were calling the shots.

The chants of 'NEW FOOD' stopped.

A tall Peytahn called out.  'Who's in command?'

The four gang leaders stepped forward: Gor-Kahn of the Peytahns, Puri of the Verelag, K'Marg of the K'Vathin and Turrah, and Tharl of the Murga, Treaga, Shaddan and Mino-bultai.

It was Gor-Kahn who spoke.  'What's this... change of management?'  Gor-Kahn couldn't believe his own eyes, or the scents he was smelling.

'You could say that.  Any of you who are against the Kula-Mar are requested to come on to the ship.  If you're willing to fight... then you're with us.'

A stunned silence fell on the dock.  None of the prisoners moved.

It was Nirgalen who broke the silence.  'What's happened?'

'The Kula-Mar have killed all the Peytahns on K'Vath... except what you see before you.  We were only spared because we were on Sard Hargan.  So, now... are you with us, or against us.'

Gor-Kahn, again spoke first.  'Clan of Gor-Kahn, get your arses on that boat.  We're off to bag us some Kula-Mar.'  A huge cheer rose from the ranks of the Peytahns on the dock and they strode onto The Ram.

The Puri of the Verelag cried out.  'Springtime in the Northern Mountains hunting Kula-Mar, sounds most pleasant.'  She ambled forward and the Verelag and the wiry sneak thief followed.

Tharl stepped up to the Peytahn commander.  'They do say Deneb is at its best in the Spring... although, granted, that's not saying much, but... we're with you.'

That left the K'Vathin and Turrah.  For them the choice may not have been as easy as it would seem.  K'Marg spoke out.  'You guarantee usss sssafe passsage, asss long asss we fight the Kula-Mar?'

'You'll have safe passage.  I'm guessing most of you don't have fond memories of the Kula-Mar.  All I'd say to you is this, if the Kula-Mar could hunt down the Peytahns, what's to stop them turning on the K'Vathin next?'

'We are with you.'  K'Marg waved his clawed finger and the K'Vathin and Turrah piled onto The Ram, too.

The last of the prisoners to walk on to the ship were an old man, and small girl and a woman, who were gloved and covered in heavy cloaks.

Before boarding the boat, the twenty Peytahns pushed the barrels or raw spice into the calm waters of Deadman's Bay.

'And now... we go dance with the Devil,'  were the fateful words of the Peytahn commander, as he bid Chenga farewell.