Tablet III"The tracks are still fresh, my Lord Barak. No more than a day or two. It is as you say, they lead towards the mountains. Those fiends think to lose us in the caves!"
Tanned fingers reached into the dark soil, simultaneously gripping and pushing out of it as he rose from a crouch. Hardened hands followed up to heavily muscled arms and broad shoulders, and he rose to his full height, a man in his prime.
At 29, he was a veteran, no, a
survivor. Boys of 14 were veterans, in this neverending war. Petty squabbles between human kingdoms were bad enough; what they went through was a war that took generations.
The marks of war were evident on his body. Half a ear on one side, the upper edge ragged from an old wound. Puckered lines running from shoulder to torso, burn scars haphazard across his back. His mouth was twisted in a permanent scowl, courtesy of a parting gift from one of those he hunted.
The sun was harsh on his eyes as he squinted up, but he welcomed the glare. The demons did not fare well in the light, creatures born of darkness as they were. Twisted things they were, a sick leftover from an older war, here to plague mankind.
The tales spoke of their predecessors, true monsters that lost all humanity. What they hunted was far worse; monsters who mimicked humans, but monsters all the same. But for their fear of the sun, they would be the perfect wolf in sheep's clothing. He gave thanks to Shamash that the time of the abominations was over. Too many of them before had died fighting those, and now they were merely cleaning up the remnants.
Marking the position of the sun on the horizon, he contemplated the looming ridge, barely more than a little bump in the distance. It would be a hard day and night of travel on foot. Horses would be faster, but offered little stealth. He and those who traveled with him would make do without. The fiends might be faster, but their progress was limited by the day. Those tracking them would sacrifice little time over to sleep and rest, if only to close the distance while they could.
"Any word from Harran?" His voice was quiet, but not lacking in authority. His very bearing commanded immediate obedience, if not respect. The boy flushed, his still unbearded face almost awkwardly young in the face of this scarred warrior.
"No my lord. They might not have been able to catch up with us with the pace we've been setting."
There was pride in his tone, and half concealed disdain for those based within the region. Theirs was a roving team, acting both as a scouting force and an expeditionary vanguard to track and hunt down stragglers. The pace they set was staggering, as evidenced in their bodies and equipment. Their sandals were almost worn thin from all that travel, and due for replacement. Only the best went on expeditions like this. It was a hard life, and it would produce harder men who could withstand such conditions.
They jogged all around him, friends and brothers-in-arms. Always alert, they were heavily armed but lightly armored. Speed was far more essential, and armor meant little to those they hunted at any rate. The talismans they wore would have to be protection enough. Skill would even out the imbalance.
"The mines are just ahead. We might make it before nightfall, if we push." He remarked. He glanced at some of the older veterans, noting the hint of misgiving in their eyes. He knew what they were thinking.
Kestel was a mining community, extracting valuable tin from the foothills. From what he had heard, most of their town was underground, linked to their mining tunnels. The tracks from their quarry had been headed in that general direction. If they had thought to conceal themselves from the sun, there would be no better place to do so.
The whole place could be no more than a very large trap right now, but there was no way to know until they were actually there. Waiting for reinforcements was not an option. Given more time, their quarry could simply vanish into the Toros mountains and they would lose the trail. And that was simply not an option.
He whistled high-low to increase the pace, letting them know his decision by proxy. All around him, everyone instinctively checked their weapons and readied themselves. They would not be caught offguard by inattention. It was how they lived.
How they survived.
~*~*~
"My son! He went with the strangers to the mines! Please, find him!"
"Pull back, I say, PULL BACK!"
"The roof's collapsing!"
"There's another way through, from the old shafts."
"Sin's beard! What are children doing here!?"
"Everyone works in the mines. Kids do it better since they can burrow deeper with small shafts."
"Barak! One of the girls is marked!"
"They've been through here then. They might already have been tainted. We can't take any chances."
"What do you mean? They're just kids! Children!"
"I will not have them at my back when I pursue those fiends. Do it, or I will kill you myself."
"Boy...Baram. This is the sacrifice we make for the hunt. See, the fiends are no more. Those children were but a small price to pay for the lives of the whole town. This is the route I have chosen, and I will bury them with my own hands. I do not forget, and neither should you."
"Then I will bury them with you. If you would sin, then I will sin alongside you...Father."
~*~*~
The messenger from Harran caught up a day later, their ponies lathered under the sun. The small clay tablets changed hands swiftly, and Barak checked his new orders. His brows furrowed, blood creasing into the new bandage wound around his head.
"We have a new destination, boys. Strike southeast and converge with our brothers in Subartu." His mouth firmed into a thin, hard line.
"There's rumors of an Immortal near the Zagros mountains. We are going to ascertain that fact."
"And our orders?" Baram asked. His eyes were hard, taking the youthful edge off his boyish face. Barak smiled grimly, crushing the tablet to dust in one hand.
"As always:
search and destroy."
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Yet another angle. This time featuring others. It will make sense in time, I swear.
Notes:
1) Harran - A district near the border of Syria. In its prime it was a major Assyrian city controlling the the point where the road from Damascus joins the highway between Nineveh and Carchemish. As a result it always had strategic value, even from an early date.
2) Kestel - A. probable site of Bronze Age tin mining in the Taurus Mountains in ancient Anatolia. The Kestel mine has two miles (3 km) of tunnels, many of which are only about two feet wide, just large enough to allow children to do the mining work. In one abandoned shaft, a burial of twelve to fifteen children was found, presumably killed while working in the mine. (A fact I exploited here, plot-wise.)
3) Taurus Mountains - Referenced as the Toros mountains in the narrative, using the alternative spelling. Both the Euphrates and the Tigris descend from this mountain complex into modern day Iraq.
4) Subartu - Also known as the land of Subar. Located at the Tigris, north of Babylonia. Southeast across the Taurus Mountains.
5) Zagros Mountains - The largest mountain range in Iran and Iraq. It spans the whole length of the western and southwestern Iranian plateau and ends at the Straits of Hormuz.
And here ends the geography and history lesson for today~ Courtesy of wikipedia.
Dino cookies to anyone who can guess why I chose to write this chapter from this POV!
Topic: Gegenschein: The First [22/10 - Tablet IX] (Read 16914 times)