Diana Pho - Steampunk World

“ What did you expect, ” a rich, baritone voice asked. “ Something akin to a vampire’s rectum? ”

Akhu whirled toward the voice. Sitting upon a golden stool was a beautiful, cinnamon-skinned woman with curly brown locks that fell past her shoulders.

“Ta-Sut!”

“Well… sort of,” the woman giggled.

“Sa-Seti.”

“You are a smart boy!”

Akhu pointed the Steamsword at Ta-Sut’s chest. “Release her, demon, or I will…”

“You’ll what?” Sa-Seti asked, interrupting him. “Murder the daughter of your Shekhem?” Ta-Sut’s mouth moved, but it was Sa-Seti’s voice that continued to escape it.

“The Shekhem will not negotiate with demons! He will not relinquish the hand,” Akhu said.

“I knew he would not,” Sa-Seti replied. “That’s fine. I have no use for it anymore.”

“Then, why kidnap his daughter?”

“To lure you here.”

Akhu frowned. “Me? Why?”

“Because you are the only man in Menu-Kash with the wits to defy him.”

“I would never betray my Shekhem!” Akhu spat.

“Your Shekhem will, one day, crush this world beneath his boot-heel if he is not stopped!” Sa-Seti hissed.

“What?” Akhu asked, confused. “Why do you say such things?”

“Although my physical form is long gone, I still maintain much of my power,” Sa-Seti began. “Recently, I had a vision of Shekhem Tehuti Ur-Amun. He had five faces. Each face ordered its own army to rape, murder and pillage all the lands of Ki-Khanga. I knew, then, that he must be stopped.”

“And how do you know I will come against him? How do you know I won’t tell the Shekhem what you have told me?”

“Shekhem Tehuti needs my hand to see the future,” Sa-Seti replied. “I, myself, do not . Besides, your test against my scarab-warriors confirmed that you are more than capable.”

“And what of my uncle?” Akhu inquired. “He is dying because of your ‘test’.”

“He is dying because I cursed him with a rot spell when he fought his way into my tomb and nearly foiled my plans,” Sa-Seti replied. “The antidote is the ichor of a white dove. He must fully drain a dove of its blood every three days for the rest of his life or his condition will worsen and he will die. If he does this, however, his health will stabilize rapidly.”

“And what of Ta-Sut?”

“She is free to return home with you,” Sa-Seti replied. “She will not remember this conversation. Just tell her and everyone else that you destroyed me.”

Akhu paced back and forth, rubbing the crest of his head with his moist palm. His hand tightened its grip on the hilt of his sword. I cannot kill a spirit , he thought. His grip loosened and he lowered his sword. .

“I will leave you now,” Sa-Seti said. “Oh…one last thing…”

“Yes?”

“That apprentice of yours will make a fine wife and a great Shekhem one day.”

With that, Ta-Sut fell limp. Akhu caught her in his arms.

“Wait,” Akhu shouted. “Umat…wife? Shekhem ?”

“The citizens of Menu-Kash salute you, Akhu Ankh-Kara!” Shekhem Tehuti bellowed as he thrust a golden scepter toward Akhu, who knelt before him. General Mu – whose strength had returned – knelt beside him.

Akhu took the scepter in his hands. It felt somehow wrong. He felt somehow wrong and naked before his people. He forced a smile, stood and raised the scepter high into the air. The sea of citizens cheered wildly for their hero, who defeated the most powerful sorcerer that ever lived and rescued the Shekhem’s daughter from the monster’s clutches.

General Mu embraced his nephew, lifting him off his feet.

He shot a glance toward the Shekhem, who beamed with pride. Perhaps Sa-Seti was wrong…or lying on our beloved Shekhem. But, to what end?

“I now promote you to the rank of Lieutenant, under the command of your uncle, the mighty General Mu!” The Shekhem shouted.

The crowd roared excitedly once more.

“Celebrate well tonight, gentlemen,” he continued. “For tomorrow, you will have the privilege of retrieving a powerful relic for your Shekhem from the exotic lands to the west!”

The hairs stood on the back of Akhu’s neck and a chill clawed its way up his spine. “A relic, your Majesty?”

Shekhem Tehuti placed his crimson gloved right hand on Akhu’s shoulder. A wave of disgust washed over Akhu.

“You will find – and bring to me – the mask of Aru-Nasunata-Mo,” the Shekhem said. “ The Five-Faced One .”

The island, low and heavily jungled, beckoned the men on the storm-battered ship Tiger’s Claw. They’d been drifting for days, unable to repair their mast and raise sail, at the mercy of the tides. Now that the storms had all passed, and the brutal tropical sun had begun to take its toll, they couldn’t believe their luck in spotting this little knot of land where their charts said there should not be one. Most of them assumed they were hallucinating.

But one part of the vista kept them from the weary elation they so desperately wanted to feel.

“What are those?” the warlord Shang said, mostly to himself. But he spoke for everyone.

Arranged along the shore, just above the sand, stood a row of enormous stone statues. They seemed to be mainly heads, with long, flat noses and prominent chins. They faced away from the ocean toward the interior, implacable and imposing.

“No idea,” Teng, the second in command said. “Could they be gods?”

“They could,” Shang agreed. “But not strong ones. They have no weapons. They’re the gods of farmers, and women.”

“The island’s got trees,” Teng said. “That means it’s got water.”

Shang nodded. Their water casks were almost empty, their food supplies practically gone, and the men were desperate for relief from the blazing tropical sun. “Then it could be the storm was our gods’ way of bringing us here,” the warlord said.

“That storm was a warrior god’s bellow, all right,” Teng agreed. He nodded contemptuously at the statues. “Not the whimper of them.”

“Of course,” Shang said. They had barely escaped with their lives after Shang’s rebellion failed, but now they had a means to repair their ship, resupply it and return to finish the battle. The men, his most loyal warriors, would see that their leader could turn defeat into victory, and was so strong even the gods conspired to help him. Once they returned and word spread of his power, even more would rally to his standard. The old king wouldn’t stand a chance. “Get the men to the oars and let’s make landfall.”

Teng nodded. The crew were testy, short-tempered and starving, and he looked forward to leading them through the streets of any villages that might be unlucky enough to be on the island. He yelled orders, and the men hurried to obey because they knew it would get them off the ship that much sooner.

Shang stood in the center of the village, pacing before the male captives. The women were locked in one of the few remaining, pathetic huts, awaiting his men’s pleasure. That would come tonight, along with drink from the jugs of whatever these savages fermented. But for now, he wanted them to understand how beaten they truly were.

Smoke filled the air from the other burning huts. The village held about a hundred people, but most of the children had run off into the surrounding jungle. The warlord did not worry about them; children were useful only as hostages, and he had no need for them now. He could wipe out every human on the island with a word.