"The Elephant Crusade" - Act II

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"The Elephant Crusade"
(c) 2008 by Charles Shaver. All rights reserved.

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ACT II: Balori Shongoyo, the Towering Elephant

THAT LONG, LONESOME ROAD: Wherein Shabar Visits the Elephant Homelands Called Ife; King Aniabas is Overthrown; The Elephant Crusade Begins; Balori is Tasked with the Stars

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CHAPTER 1

In the lands called Ife lived great and many beasts known to the world as elephants. Ife was their happy homeland. They loved its rolling hills, open plains and grasslands. It was a wild sort of country where men rarely ventured except by boats down rivirs. To the south of Ife was the mass expanse of a desert and to its north, over large and long hilly country, was the Grand Bazaar of Tenhar where men and Gifted Ones drew together to buy and sell all kinds of merchandise.

It was to the bazaar that Shabar, faithful servant to Sulia Laree the Eternal Empress of the Bizo, was sent to find a mahout or some other with expertise in elephants. It was at the bazaar he met Nagkendra, a mahout of popular skill, sitting at a table and having tea in a small cafe. Nagkendra was a waif of a man, though young. He wore deep green robes of light material, sandals made of thin leather straps and a scarf to block sand from his mouth when he ventured with elephants.

"My Empress sends me to find elephants. Our people build a tower to be used as a library, perhaps the tallest of its kind in all the world in all of Stork's recorded histories. In order to complete such a grand task, we need large animals such as the elephant to haul stones. Can you help us?"

Nagkendra agreed. "I can direct you to sellers of tamed elephants, though some small commission may be necessary and paid by you for my services."

"Money is no matter here," said Shabar. "Only my desires of my Empress matter."

"You say this will be the tallest tower in all the world?" Nagkendra asked.

Shabar nodded and showed Nagkendra the specifications for the plans. Nagkendra agreed the tower would be immense. "A mere elephant will not do. You will need many and I will most likely need to send you to more than one tamer," explained Nagkendra.

"To inflate your commission?" Shabar challenged.

"Forgive me, my hearing is ill, it would seem. Thought I that you had said money is not a matter in place of your empress' desires," Nagkendra smiled triumphantly.

Shabar huffed. "You heard well, but thriftiness should never be ignored nonetheless. How many elephants might I need?"

Nagkendra thought on this and looked over the plans once more. "Perhaps," he said, "thirty would suffice."

"Thirty?" Shabar raged. "That seems quite a lot. I have heard these beasts grow larger than ten or twenty men. Have I heard wrong?"

"Not at all," Nagkendra said. "You have heard correctly. But your empress' plans are also immense. I can assume the tower would take many years to build, as well. If that be true, then after the first few years of construction you will need more elephants. Some will perish due to accident or illness, it is only natural. Others will refuse to work or grow tired or old. You will need many, many more elephants in the years to come."

"Certainly I cannot come to these lands again and again every few years for a decade or more while the tower is being constructed," reasoned Shabar. "No, I will need to take more than thirty, then. Perhaps I will need to breed them in my homeland and raise them for the work." He looked at Nagkendra and considered him and matters for some time. Nagkendra drank his tea and ordered more, this time enough for himself and his guest, Shabar. While finishing their second cup of the fresh tea, Shabar said, "Will you help me train these creatures for the work I need? Will you be a mahout for the Eternal Empress? I can assure all your needs would be tended to."

Nagkendra thought a moment before saying, "Ife and the bazaar are my home and have been since I was orphaned here in the streets of Tenhar. My love for this place is strong," Shabar thought his question was dismissed until Nagkendra added, "but if the gods have placed you before me with such a generous offer, who am I to refuse?"

Nagkendra and Shabar laughed and drank their tea and, later while eating a full meal, shared their stories together and became friends. The tea was traded first for palm wine, then as the night drew on it the palm wine was abandoned for whiskey.

Negkendra shared his small hovel on the outskirts of town that night with Shabar. The following day they set out to speak with different merchants and mahouts at the bazaar. They found no one with an available elephant or two, let alone thirty. The only elephant it seemed anyone had was the property of Tenhar and used exclusively by the sheriff to punish the most diabolical criminals. They were not allowed even to see this elephant, however, as the sheriff was frightened of vengeance against the creature by families of those that had been crushed.

"It would seem we are cursed not to find one," said Nagkendra.

Shabar sighed, wondering if these creatures, these beasts called elephants truly existed and thinking Negkendra may be playing him for a fool in hopes of swindling out of him some coins. "What would you suggest now?" asked Shabar.

"We should hire another mahout and some spearmen to accompany us tomorrow to find and capture elephants in the wild."

It was a bold suggestion, but Shabar agreed. That night, using the excuse of other business that needed tending to, Shabar set out about the bazaar to inquire about elephants and the truth to their existence. To the best of his efforts, he could only find many people claiming elephants to be very real, but not one had evidence to that end. He feared Negkendra, though amiable, may suggest the next day to hire friends of his, friends to whom Shabar would have to spread the wealth.

Negkendra did that very thing that night. When Shabar returned to Negkendra's hovel the extra men were already collected - another mahout named Ghalib and three men with spears. Besides the extra men there were two mules and a cart with four small cages on it.

"Why would they need spears?" asked Shabar.

"In case the elephants resist," said Negkendra.

The next day, Shabar upon his horse and the others on rented camels, set out for the country known as Ife. Three other another mahout and three other men agreed to follow for a small wage. By day's end they were in the wild country. "Any time now, perhaps tonight as we rest or tomorrow as we search, we will find elephants. I will help you chose several pairs of mates."

They all slept well that night under a starless sky. All except Shabar. He remained awake, excited as a child might be to see fabled creatures, desiring not to miss a moment of contact with them. Albert had sent him here and for a time Shabar questioned whether elephants were real or imagined beasts that terrify people in the night as they dreamed. But having met these men, Negkendra and the others, these few men spoke so fondly of elephants that Shabar determined, whether the tales of the size and strength and unnatural strength of these beasts was true or exaggerated fantasy, the creatures themselves were surely real. He wondered all night, hoping, waiting, wishing Etain and the new day to dawn. Sleep slipped through him now and then, but largely Shabar remained awake and waiting.

When Etain came over the horizon, Shabar roused Negkendra and the others. They made quick meals to break the nightly fast and set out into a mass grassy plain to find the fabled elephants. After an hour's travel the mahout Ghalib found many prints and scat upon a hill. "There is a watering hole some small distance from here. I am sure they are headed there."

Shabar examined the print closely before they moved on. He placed his palm, fingers spread wide, into the impression. He said, "The length and girth of my hand does not match the size of these prints. These animals must surely be immense."

His second wind catching up with him and his faith renewed that the animal existed, Shabar urged the small party onward towards the watering hole Ghalib spoke of.

When Etain was high overhead, in the midst of day, the men looked out and saw far-off wavering gray forms standing by a small lake. "Could it be?" Shabar nearly shrieked. "Are those elephants?"

Negkendra nodded. "They are."

They drew close. Shabar sat back in his saddle, eying and admiring the bold, beautiful creatures prancing along the waters edge - some indeed in the water - and trumpeting loudly as if crying out joyfully. Shabar laughed, saying, "Albert, you crazy old alchemist, you have lead me well."

Negkendra asked, "Will these do the task you ask of them?"

"I do not doubt it," Shabar answered.

Negkendra smiled, nodded. "I do not doubt it," he repeated.

Each creature seemed as tall as two men and longer than three men lying on the ground. They were thick, especially at the shoulders, and many had bellies extended with great rotund curves. Each one, cows and bulls, all had a pair of enormous, implausible teeth so large their mouths, though also enormous, could not contain them. These teeth - tusks as Negkendra called them - curved out of their mouths as giant white horns. Between these extended long noses - again Negkendra was helping in naming them trunks. These trunks were not merely elongated features but nimble, prehensile limbs. Shabar gasped as he watched the creatures uproot tall grass with their trunks and beat them against their knees to knock off the dirt at the roots, thereby cleaning their food, before shoving them into their mouths. So much did he enjoy watching the elephants that Shabar laughed with glee.

But it was their ears, the incredible ears that struck Shabar the most with awe and wonderment. They were huge though thin, wide though frail. And the animals walked and tramped about with such ease, some as though they carried no more weight than a dove. They skin was thick and gray and had toenails larger than a man's head. Their legs were thick as the most solid oak. Shabar could only stare, a smile upon his face. "They are glorious," he spoke softly.

"There are three children," spoke Ghalib. "But there are fourteen adults. One of the adults is perhaps young enough for us to take and train, but the number of the older ones far outweighs our numbers."

Negkendra sighed. "I think we can get the three young ones if we could distract the rest."

Ghalib shook his head. "You want only the young? It would be easier to claim one or two older ones and then take the three young ones. Plus, with the older ones, we can start breeding them immediately to make more."

"Breed them? Immediately?" asked Shabar. "I know we'll have to breed them eventually, but we cannot breed them right away. It took me many months to get here from the side of my empress and I was alone without others to withhold my progress. With you five plus whatever number of elephants we take, it would take many more months. Do you suggest we breed them along the way?"

"The quicker we breed them, the quicker your empress will have more elephants," said Ghalib. "We should also train them along the way, then when we return you to your city they can begin working right away."

Negkendra added, "If my knowledge of where the Bizo people are located coupled with my knowledge of elephants and their training be true, I would say it will take nearly a year, perhaps more. By the time we get to your empress, we'll have a whole new generation of elephants ready to be born and tamed."

Shabar was quiet as he thought.

"Ah," exclaimed Ghalib. "There is a mother already pregnant amongst them. If we take an older one, I suggest we take her."

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CHAPTER 2

King Aniabas' men stood in formation facing north towards the Plain of Adoration. The raucous, rioting followers of the demon Yaska Selith danced about bonfires, seeming not to notice. The army waited, watching.

From the east came the good king's four best warships. he had three others, but they were small sloops best suited for privateering and improperly outfitted to engage in a battle on land. What he had sent forth were a corvette, a brig and a dhow.

General Vitor was beside his liege in full armor. The armor had been painted blue as a clear sky with hints of silver along the edging. The spangenhelm atop his head shone silver and bone yellow, giving him the appearance of an undead soldier. At his back was attached the red and blue banner with a lone white lion of his liege's command.

King Aniabas was similarly outfitted, except without the banner and wearing a galea with a feathery plume that had been dyed bright blue instead of a spangenhelm.

"Think you the ships will suffice?" asked Vitor.

Aniabas took his time to answer. "They'll have to. The corvette and the brig have the cannons that should reach the demon's encampment. The dhow's shallow draft should allow it closer access and higher maneuverability."

They sat upon their horses and waited.

As the three ships drew near the shore, their captains gave the command to open fire. Cannon shot after cannon shot rained down on the demon's people, blowing many of them apart. Men became piecemeal, women became minced meat. Vitor smiled at his king who smiled in return and said, "Soon our ships will have crippled the demon itself so that we may ride in and defeat teh unholy beast. Then we will finally be rid of the thing."

But as King Aniabas said this, the great demon was roused from his daily sleep to discover the attack. Yaska Selith turned on the ship, opened his third eye and shot forth a red beam of such destruction that all three ships were nearly cut in two. Their wooden structures burst into flames. Sailors jumped from the decks into the sea, some only to be pulled under by the roiling currents caused by their sinking ships. Others were boiled to death for, as the incredible red beam spat from Yaska Selith's forehead and hit the waters, it caused the ocean to boil and bubbled and steam with intense heat.

The desire to fight fled from all of King Aniabas' men.

"We could do nothing to it," spoke Vitor.

Some of the gathered soldiers broke and ran. Many of them stayed, though cowering in their suits of armor and hoping their king would call off the campaign.

King Aniabas sighed. "I fear we must retreat lest we all die this day. We will have to reconsider our plans."

The king and his men returned to their homes to the south of the Plain of Adoration.

That night, Yaska Selith determined his bone warrior army must soon grow and wrest control from the king to the south.

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CHAPTER 3

Shabar and his hired men left their horse and camels near a lone tree as they steered themselves around the elephants to a spot where stood a stand of trees. There, between two trees, they placed a large hemp net. One of the spearmen then set out to place himself directly across from this net, with the elephants in between. With a shout and great fuss, he scared the elephants into charging away from him, charging towards the net.

Negkendra, Ghalib and Shabar did their best to flank the elephants, to herd them with shouts and calls and a few thrown stones. They also caught the three baby elephants using gigantic, modified versions of man catchers that they then staked into the ground and tied the feet of the smaller creatures with rope. Shabar had the most difficulty, as he had never captured any kind of animal before.

"Luck is with us!" cried Negkendra as the pregnant cow ran towards the two trees with the net, heading towards their center. As she neared, two spearmen released counterweights tied to the net and hanging from the trees. The netting flew skyward, blocking the escaping cow. She trumpeted in fear at the last minute before running into the net and crashing to the ground, entangled.

A lone bull turned from his escape and headed for them in an angry headlong assault. One of the spearmen, the closest and therefore the first target of the attacking elephant, threw his javelin wildly before turning to run. The elephant caught him easily, first stepping on one of his legs and crushing it so badly the muscle within tore from the flesh and spattered across the ground. The elephant then lowered its head and, with its left tusk, skewered the spearman, trampling his other leg and trumpeting with trembling fury. The elephant lifted his head, the spearman stuck on the tusk, and whipped side to side until the dead, dismembered body flung itself away to land sickly in the mud beside the lake.

Shabar, who was next closest, ran as the elephant came hysterically after him.

One of the other spearmen cast his javelin into the air. It sailed, piercing the charging creature from ear-hole to ear-hole, the weapon jamming deep into the thick skull of the beast. The elephant ceased its pursuit of the screaming and fearful Shabar.

The elephant toppled toppled. He breathed laboriously three times before his breathing stopped all together. The men did not know, though the mahouts silently suspected, they had killed the mate of the cow and father to her child.

The sudden death of one of their own further frightened the rest of the elephants. They ran, scattering while Negkendra and Ghalib and the two spearmen rounded up the three baby elephants and the pregnant cow.

"We must hurry," called Negkendra to the rest. "We cannot allow the elephants to return lest we be crushed under their feet. We must hurry away with these four."

They caged the three small elephants easily, but the large mother refused to cooperate. The spearmen threw rope after rope around her legs until, at last, she could no longer refuse their efforts. They wound her entirely with the ropes, keeping her legs bound. They then dragged the elephant onto the cart which bowed beneath her inflated weight. As they did, she gave out a long, mournful cry.

"She calls for her mate," said Negkendra. "We must hurry."

As he checked the ropes tied to the cart, making sure they were secured, Shabar saw tears streaming from the cow's eyes. He frowned. "Is she hurt?" he asked.

"She is a dumb animal," said Ghalib. "At best she is frightened. She most likely she got dust in her eyes and, as we do, naturally formed the tears to wash the dust away."

Shabar heard the mahout's words, but as he looked at the captured cow once more, he was unsure. He laid a hand upon her forehead. He wanted to say an apology, but knew she would understand and he would most likely be mocked by Ghalib and the spearmen and, possibly, by his new friend Negkendra. He knew nothing of elephants and feared showing his ignorance. He said nothing instead.

"I do not think the two mules will have the strength," said Negkendra as he checked the cart.

Shabar gave up his horse and the other men gave up their camels. All the mounts were lashed to the cart and herded away quickly in the direction of the bazaar. As they left Ife, Negkendra looked back over his shoulder in fear of retaliation.

"Will they return?" asked Shabar.

"Perhaps," Negkendra said. "And perhaps with more numbers and all of them would be quite angry. We have stolen away with their children and one of their women. The cows rarely fight except in the case their child is in danger, but the bulls are quite aggressive, as you saw today. We are fortunate that this cow we captured did not fight more than she did. We all would have been crushed."

"How long before she gives birth?" Shabar asked.

"If I know my elephants, I would say she is due to give birth quite soon and because of that I think she feared harming her child if she fought us."

Shabar, still shaken, walked with them in silent contemplation.

Back at Negkendra's hovel it was decided another day was needed to rest and maintain the elephants and gather supplies for the long trip ahead. Each elephant was given a name. The three young ones were called Aberash, Jengo and Chipo. The pregnant cow was named Masozi. Shabar chose her name, a word he had heard since his arrival in this part of the world, a word that meant "tear".

Two days later another elephant was brought to the bazaar by a merchant and sold to Shabar and his men. As fortune would have it, this new elephant was a bull and was brother to the pregnant cow's mate, the uncle to the calf in Masozi's belly, though none but the elephants knew this. He was named Zuberi.

Three weeks later, after Shabar and the others had already set out to deliver the elephants to the Eternal Empress, Masozi gave birth to her child. She was unbound for the delivery. She gave no fight nor did she flee. Her only desire was to care for her child.

Shabar, so taken was he with Masozi, that he helped a great deal with the birth. He was in awe of the sight of a birthing elephant. He wondered at the beauty and ugliness of the event and helped in every effort.

"You are becoming quite the expert," Negkendra said of him.

Masozi was gifted a son. She caressed his head with her trunk and kissed him repeatedly. She looked to the south and west after the birth of her son, towards the lands called Ife, and trumpeted with pride that her son had been born and was quite healthy and strong. She hoped other elephants would hear.

The birth had been excruciating due to the calf's immense size, but both mother and son fared well. Ghalib commented, "He is large for a newborn. He will be incredibly strong and well-suited for the work you wish of him. He is a good calf in every respect."

The birth disrupted the journey for a few days as mother and son were nursed back to health. Shabar gave Masozi's son a name: Balori Shongoyo, the Towering Elephant. After a few days' rest, when Balori had learned to walk on his own, the trek was begun again. This time Masozi walked on her own as she showed no sign of further resistance.

Along the way Ghalib attempted to mate Zuberi and Masozi. With great effort he succeeded and soon Masozi was again pregnant.

"You are an amazing mahout," praised Negkendra. "It takes some elephants many years to reproduce after birth, but here you have shown great influence over these creatures. You must be blessed by the gods with the ability."

Shabar added, "It would seem my Empress' money is well worth it. You have earned my respect."

Negkendra and Ghalib began training the elephants simple commands. All the elephants found them difficult except Balori who thought the training to be as playing with friends. How he loved picking up logs with his trunk on command or sitting when told!

But soon Shabar regretted his praise for Ghalib for, on a particular night before they bedded down for the night, Ghalib could not get Jengo to pay attention to his commands. Every time Ghalib told Jengo to sit, the small but quickly growing elephant would run off to eat nearby grass. When Ghalib told Jengo to lift a log, the elephant sat down and stared at the mahout. Jengo was completely uncooperative.

Ghalib brought forth his ankus and crop and so severely did he beat the small Jengo that he split the animal's thick skin along the back. Jengo cried out with such agony that Shabar could do nothing but look away.

Shabar tried to gauge the reactions of Negkendra, but found his friend only standing nearby, watching. He then looked to Zuberi who merely eyed the raging mahout. At last, his head turned away, Shabar felt the soft, gentle touch of a trunk as it caressed his back. When Shabar turned to look, he found Masozi gently soothing him with touch. He reached out and did the same for her, petting her trunk and shoulder behind her large ears.

As tears formed in little Jengo's eyes, his trumpeting cry for help, calling forth in anguish, so too did tears form in the eyes of Masozi and Shabar.

The next night, as Ghalib trained the elephants, Shabar pulled Negkendra aside to confront him about Ghalib's actions the night before.

"His hand is quite heavy," agreed Negkendra, "But his results are inarguable." Together they watched as Jengo obediently carried out the commands of Ghalib.

"But they are so large," said Shabar. "They could crush us at any moment. Why do they not rebel against such fury?"

Negkendra explained, "That is not the way of the elephant. They are larger, indeed, and stronger, but they do not have the maliciousness of men. Only in musth do they storm about aimlessly and then only the bulls. Our cruelty alone makes us superior, but it is all we need to tame the elephant. The fury of men is far larger than the largest beast. Demons alone are larger."

On went the travelers. Shabar occasionally sent forth a hired messenger to report their progress to Sulia Laree. Each time she received word, she shared the news with her people who cheered emphatically.

But storms and illness delayed the progress of the trekking elephants and their owners. "I fear we're losing time. Perhaps I should send one of our spearmen to Tenhar to find more mahouts and start a great passage of elephants from there to my Empress so that we are not alone in our travels. Every few months, perhaps, my Empress could send money to a trusted man in the bazaar and he, in turn, will purchase and send forth other mahouts with more elephants behind us. Then my Empress would only have to wait a few months for more elephants each time."

"There is wisdom in your words," agreed Negkendra.

This suggestion was sent to the Empress. She ardently agreed. Every few months new elephants were captured and sold to a man named Akadia Dorn in Tenhar. He then hired a mahout and a few other men to herd the elephants east to the Eternal Empress. The long line of elephants that developed became legendary. Everyone all along the path the elephants were taken would come out to see the great beasts, to wonder at them and speak highly and kindly of them and of the mahouts that commanded them. The long procession came to be known as the Elephant Crusade and Sulia Laree, the Eternal Empress, was hailed powerful and wealthy and was considered as having a touch of the exotic. Indeed, she came to be admired by people all over the world.

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CHAPTER 4

Thunder was a spirit that lived in the sky. A winged and awful creature was Thunder. It spit fire, spoke lightning and when it flapped it wings the Heavens shook.

But She Ku Kuei, the Opium-Eating Snake, also made her home in the sky and grew jealous of having to share the Heavens with Thunder. Soon She Ku Kuei plotted Thunder's demise.

So it came to pass that She Ku Kuei invited Thunder into her home for tea. There She enticed Thunder into trying opium laced with wormwood and absinthe. Thunder was slow to accept the offer, but feared offending his host.

The opium immediately caused Thunder to hallucinate. Frightened, Thunder attacked She Ku Kuei. So terrible was their battle that not only did it rage for three days and nights that the giant weasel god Raiju Yu shook loose from Thunder's belly button and fell from the sky.

The fight ended with She Ku Kuei escaping to the uppermost parts of Heaven where she could only be seen slithering across the night sky while Thunder lived, hidden from She Ku Kuei, amidst the clouds.

Raiju Yu fell and fell until he landed at the feet of Yaska Selith in the Plain of Adoration. Fearing an attack, the Bone Warriors assaulted Raiju Yu, but Raiju Yu summoned forth a triumvirate of weasels named Kama, Gala and Jian. So fierce was the bite and claws of the weasel god and three smaller weasels that the Bone Warriors stood in awe of their attacks.

Yaska Selith commanded his Bone Warriors to stop their fighting. "Weasel," said he. "What be your name?"

"I am Raiju Yu, son of Thunder, and these are my weasel servants. Kill one of these and I will summon more. I can always command three weasels at once."

Yaska Selith considered this. "Why are you here?" he asked.

"I was shaken free from my father's belly button while he was fighting. I simply fell here. But enough talking, send forth your warriors. I and my weasels shall kill them all!"

Yaska Selith gurgled laughter, looking down on the weasel god. "I do not wish any more fighting with you and my Bone Warriors. Instead, I suggest a companionship between us. So lustful are you for blood, it would seem, and here I am with need of a general for my army. What say you?"

Raiju Yu looked at the mortal army. "I seek blood, that much is true. I suppose whether the blood comes from killing your warriors or killing alongside them matters not. What is it you suggest?"

Yaska Selith said, "Recently the king to the south attacked my men from the sea. It can be assumed we will see more attacks from him. I wish you to take some of my Bone Warriors and usurp this baseborn king. Kill him and take the kingdom as your own, if you wish. As long as he no longer causes me or my men harm, I would be happy."

Raiju Yu considered this. "Give me your men. It will be done."

And the overthrow was soon complete. King Aniabas was not found nor killed, but was instead seen fleeing from the city. Raiju Yu sent forth hunters to track him, but they returned empty-handed.

Raiju Yu set his band of Bone Warriors to the barracks and police the town outside the castle while he took the throne. The weasel god became the Weasel King.

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CHAPTER 5

Shabar and the elephants came into the land of the Bizo in grand parades. Every person from every corner of the countryside came forth to take in the sights of the grand and glorious beasts that Shabar had traveled into unknown lands for, beasts that he had tamed, beasts that he had conquered in the name of his Empress. A festival was held, the first Festival of the Elephant. A chef in favor with Sulia Laree created especially for this festival a new dish, a new treat. It was large, flat fried bread dusted with sweet spices and called "The Elephant Ear" for it was the sweet treat had been made into the likeness of the creatures' ears.

Shabar was declared hero of all the Bizoans and of Sulia Laree, the Eternal Empress. The mahouts and spearmen were welcomed with glad arms.

As the festival commenced, Shabar entered the palace of the Eternal Empress. Adad and Alecto ran to him, cheering and hugging him as an older brother. Albert the Alchemist, too, embraced his old friend and said how good it was to see him again. Even Fei Li Mi gave him a respectful bow.

With the warm reception Shabar said, "My Empress, I must speak with you."

"Of course!" she said. "You must have wonderful tales to regale us with and we would be happy to hear them. We've all missed you so. The people write songs about you and speak your name as a living legend. We must hear it all, everything you have to say. Come, sit at my side and tell me everything."

Shabar sat beside his Empress. The children gathered close, as did Albert. With some trepidation, Shabar said, "I'm afraid I must resign my post as your servant."

"But why?" Empress Sulia exclaimed, shocked.

Shabar thought of telling her, of telling all of them, the horrors he had witnessed while returning with the elephants. but he feared her reaction. He feared her fury. He feared being made fun of, of being called a fool for his compassion for the "dumb animal". He feared most of all he was most like and elephant and less like a man.

He lied, "My travels were perilous. They took a great deal of energy from me. I feel older than I look. With respects, I feel I have earned time for myself, time to reflect and relax."

"Well of course!" said Empress Sulia. "You can have all the time you need! You will return whenever you wish."

Shabar hesitated. "And if I never wish to return?"

Empress Sulia considered this. "If that be your wish."

The children begged him not to leave. He tried to explain, "I must. I need my rest."

They cried. Fei Li Mi consoled them and eyed Shabar angrily.

"Please, My Empress, do not think this is a slight to you. My heart is still dedicated to you," said Shabar.

Empress Sulia shook her head. "We will always be friends. Do as you must, you've earned whatever your heart desires. But please, for the sake of the children, stay with us a few days more.

Shabar agreed.

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CHAPTER 6

The elephants were put to work immediately. Ghalib struck them into learning their role and their work. Negkendra was made supervisor. New elephants were brought into the city and put to task, as well. The spearmen became favored laborers. Soon the base of the tower was nearing completion.

Masozi had her second child. Negkendra sent word to Shabar, now living in the farmlands far outside the hub of the Bizoans, that the baby elephant was a healthy bull and asking if Shabar would like to name this one as he had with Masozi's other child. Shabar sent a letter to Negkendra wishing him well in the most courteous way and suggested the name of the new elephant should be called Tafari. Negkendra sent word that it was a proper name and that he missed his old friend. Shabar sent no reply.

The elephants worked diligently and without incident, though many grew tired and bored of the work and would have to be goaded back into their duty by Ghalib. Balori alone found the work enjoyable. He still considered it play. He became fast friends with Tafari, his cousin and half-brother. They grew together, worked together and when given the chance played together. But most of their days was given to working on hauling the enormous stones of the tower.

Tafari did not share Balori's enthusiasm for the work. he did, however, relish their scant time together for play. Once, while being walked one evening by Ghalib and Negkendra, Balori uprooted a small tree and whapped tafari over the head with it playfully. Crying out in odd elephant laughter, Tafari also uproot ed a small tree and the two were soon playing a makeshift game of tag, striking each other lightly and prancing about.

Ghalib took exception to this. He goaded the two elephants with his ankus and crop.

"Ghalib," said Negkendra, "they only play."

"But they have destroyed two of the Empress' trees and they may take to striking one another harder, risking harming one another," Ghalib explained. "This sort of foolish behavior cannot be tolerated."

Negkendra kept his silence and helped Ghalib remove the two elephants from one another's company. Tafari and Balori cried out after one another, sad their play was over.

Tafari soon grew weary with work. Each day Balori found himself gently patting Tafari on the back with his trunk to keep up his spirits. Each day Tafari became more distant with thought and sorrow.

Then one day Tafari, carrying a smaller stone, sat down, refusing to work any further. Ghalib goaded him, but to no end. Then Ghalib bit him with the crop, but Tafari merely cringed. Balori grabbed Tafari by the trunk with his own, pulling and urging Tafari back to work lest he be further beaten. All the elephants slowed to watch, but none stopped working completely.

Ghalib beat Balori, chasing him away from Tafari.

Ghalib then turned on Tafari. So badly did he beat the young elephant that Negkendra approached him and quietly suggested he stop, suggesting Tafari needed a half day's rest to recover from whatever ailed him.

Ghalib was stubborn and gave no way. He beat and beat at Tafari. The elephant's grey skin sliced open. Blood poured from his shoulders. Ghalib, frustrated, struck Tafari on the forehead with the ankus just above the trunk. Tafari cried out in pain and anger. Hatred bred in his eyes, but he could not bring himself to attack the offending mahout. Instead, Tafari stood and walked slowly, painfully towards an immense stone.

"What does he do?" asked Negkendra. "He cannot possibly carry such a large stone just yet. He is still young and much too small."

But carrying the stone was not Tafari's intention. Repeatedly, angrily, harshly Tafari rammed his head again and again into the corner of the stone. Blood sprayed and spattered across the stone and the ground. With each forward thrust Tafari gave out a trumpet of anger. Tears welled and fell from his large eyes. Each blow brought new, white hot pain. Each blow brought calming numbness. He rammed again and again until at last, his skull caved in and he collapsed at the foot of the stone.

Ghalib and Negkendra were in awe, as were the rest of the elephants. Every creature and man stopped to look at the young elephant, bloody from a mixture of his own attacks and those of Ghalib. He was covered almost entirely in blood. His skin shivered nervously. His tail whipped weakly. His trunk did not move.

Tafari gasped for air.

Ghalib approached, uncertain.

tafari peered through one bloodied and bloodshot eye at the mahout. His breathing labored, Tafari stared at him for a long time as if to say, "Use me now. I challenge you to use me now for whatever it is you make us build. Use me and kill me, that was your plan, but I brought forth the inevitable. I brought about my death without your satisfaction of my many years of work. Use me, I challenge you."

Anger infected Ghalib. He raised his crop and ankus together in one hand and brought them down on Tafari's trunk.

Balori cried out, trying to get to his dying friend. The two spearmen caught him and held him with ropes.

Negkendra yelled, "Ghalib! What do you do? The creature is dying!"

Ghalib turned on Negkendra. "He needs to be made an example of. He needs to be punished for his rebellion lest the others become tempted by desire for the same." Ghalib struck Tafari again.

Tafari did not grunt. He did not cry. He closed his eyes and took the beating. he was glad when his body went numb. he was glad when his mind slipped from that which was around him. he was glad when he saw images of the rolling plains of Ife, a land he was not born into, a land he did not know, the homeland of his people.

Tafari breathed deep and died.

Balori cried. His face stretched with a frown. It would be a long time before he smiled again. From that day forward he merely worked without hassle, without passion, without notice as his captors commanded.

Though dead, Ghalib kept beating the young Tafari. Negkendra wrested the crop from Ghalib, saying, "He is dead. No further beatings will teach him a lesson, nor will any lesson be learned by those watching."

Ghalib spat at Negkendra then punched him and took the crop. "What would you do? Cuddle them into obeisance? They would turn on you."

Negkendra backed away, rubbing his face where he had been punched. He stared at Ghalib who said, "Go. You are not needed here any longer."

"That is for the Empress to say!"

"I will be responsible for your release," replied Ghalib. "Now go."

As negkendra left Ghalib, indeed as he left the country of the Bizo, Ghalib wished death upon him.

Leaving the lands of the Bizo, Negkendra thought of the words he had spoke to Shabar of demons and men. He reconsidered them.

Tafari dead, Ghalib ordered his small tusks removed and that the animal have a proper burial. The tusks were then taken to Albert the Alchemist who ground them into a fine powder to be used in his studies and to make healing salves for those ill with various disease.

Even in death, the elephant is giving.

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CHAPTER 7

Albert came to the farmlands outside the main city of the Bizo. There he visited his old friend Shabar.

Shabar's farm spread wide and his crops considerable. he had met and married a woman named Alia. She was pleasant and already with child. Albert looked on Shabar's home and lands and beautiful wife and smiled. "Life has been good to you," he said. "This pleases me."

Shabar thanked him and the alchemist was warmly welcome into their home for a long stay. After their first night's meal together, as the two friends sat watching Etain descend into the horizon and Kalavata chase after her, they chatted lightly. Albert then asked, "Shabar, old friend who is dear to us all, if I may so bold as to ask: why did you leave the side of our Eternal Empress?"

"I have given my reasons," said Shabar.

Albert shook his head. "Perhaps, but none that were sufficient. I suspect other reasons."

Shabar sighed. He did not want to answer with the truth. indeed, he had not thought of the Elephant Crusade for some time until Albert came for a visit. He feared he did not do the right thing by keeping the truth of the atrocities he had witnessed from the Empress and from Albert and the Bizoans. Instead of answering, Shabar asked, "How goes the building of the tower?"

"It goes well," answered Albert.

"Have you been to see the progress?"

Albert said no, "Though I hear the reports when they come to the Empress."

Shabar looked at his old friend. "Go," said he, "look around for yourself. See the construction with your own eyes. It is, perhaps, in the best interests of the Empress."

Albert considered this.

The rest of his stay with Shabar was excellent. They enjoyed each others' company and Albert even helped in the fields with the daily work. He found the work relaxing compared to his thought-filled studies, though he was quite old and starting to cripple.

When Albert left Shabar's side, it was a sublime moment filled with sorrow for needing to leave mixed with happiness of having spent time with old friends. Both men were nearly moved to tears and Alia, though she had just met Albert, did cry. She hugged him and kissed him and invited him to visit any time he desired.

Shabar rode on horseback some ways as he started back towards the city. He said, "Friedn Albert, remember you my words your first night here?"

"My mind is old," admited Albert, "but not so old I cannot remember you suggesting I have a look at the tower myself. It seems a shame I have not as yet of my own volition. I will do so as soon as I return and see the Empress. Do you have any words for her?"

Shabar shook his head. "Only that I am still loyal and that I am happy, though, if you would, please tell the children I miss them greatly."

Shabar watched as Albert rode away, looking back over his shoulder every so often to wave.

Albert returned to the Empress' side and reported all the good things he had seen at Shabar's farm. He told her of Shabar's professed loyalty. He told the children of Shabar's love for them. And on the next day he went forth to the site where the tower was being built.

There he saw elephants, many more than he could remember being ushered into the city. They worked intensely. All of them were weary with sad looks. The mahouts and other men that had been hired to help in the construction beat the elephants regularly. The elephants rarely gave a fuss over being beaten. They simply worked.

Some of the elephants were so worn and had been so beaten they worked even with open sores bleeding and leaking with puss. Dust clogged their massive eyes and trunks. They were slow, but they were strong and diligent.

As Albert looked at the wicked site before him, he knew the reasons behind Shabar's resignation. He whisper, "Old friend, I do not blame you. What have we done?"

The alchemist did not sleep for six nights and on the sixth night he stole into the compound where the elephants were caged at night. he brought with him two elixirs. he found the cage of an elephant, the largest elephant he could find. he knew none of them from the other, but the elephant he had chosen was the first elephant born into Bizoan captivity. He had unknowingly chosen Balori who had grown to immense size, larger even than any of the other elephants.

Frightened, Albert struggled to unwind the thick hemp ropes that tied the cage closed. Balori, also afraid, backed away into a corner of the cage. he did not know this man and his appearance at night was not a routine visit. He feared being beaten.

Albert opened the cage. He said softly, "Do not be afraid. I am Albert, a friend. I am not here to hurt you. I am here to help you."

Balori remained wary, but allowed the man to touch his ear. Soothing Nalori, Albert said, "Here, drink this first." He fed Balori a vial of Dancing Water. Balori enjoyed the taste of the elixir for he rarely was allowed enough water and was perpetually dehydrated. Balori was now a Gifted One, immortal and incapable of death except by the hands of another Gifted One or god.

The second elixir was some of the very elixir he had fed Fei Li Mi to give him intelligence. Balori grew, rattling his cage, to stand upon his hind legs as a man might. His Chest heaved and became muscular. His front legs became strong arms with hands like a man's, though cover with thick, gray skin. he also grew capable of speech. Afraid of the change, afraid of the new thing that was not a part of his daily routine, afraid that if the mahout called Ghalib found him he would be beaten severely, Balori cried out and ran into the night.

"No! Wait!" cried Albert after him, but he could not catch the large elephant. When he heard the mahouts rousing and awake, Albert ran for the safety of the Empress' palace and hid there the rest of the night.

Quite a commotion was given about the escaped elephant. The next day Ghalib put a price on Balori's head and many men, hunters and otherwise, set out to find the runaway elephant and claim the prize money.

Three more sleepless nights passed for Albert. he grew sick with worry. He did not teach the children in teh day and the Empress forgave him for his illness. She commanded he take a few days for himself to rest.

As the night set on the Bizoans, Albert wandered into nearby woods along the river. There he heard a sound and discovered it to be Balori, hiding and afraid. "Old man," called Balori. "What have you made of me?"

"Oh, Balori," said Albert softly as he approached. he now knew the elephants name due to the hunt. "How I've worried about you."

"Why did you do this? If the mahout finds me he will beat me."

"No," said Albert. "They seek to do worse. They now wish you dead."

"Why did you do this?" raged the elephant. Birds lifted into the air at the sound of his bellow. "It would seem I've not only acquired man's gift of speech but also his temper."

"I did this," explained Albert, "because I saw your people suffering so much. Though many speak highly of my wisdom, there are few things I can do. I mixed you two elixirs, one to make you immortal and the other to give you the gifts of man. I thought a hero was needed for your people and I cannot be that one. I hoped your new gifts would help you."

"I would rather not have them," growled Balori. "I would rather be safe in my cage."

"I'm sorry," apologized Albert.

"Now that I am like a man, what would you have me do?" asked balori.

"I do not know. I was hoping you may figure things out."

"You are an idiot," cursed the elephant.

Albert nodded. "Indeed, I am."

"I am no happier with the condition of my people than you. But what am I to do? I do not even know who does this to us but many men and one master called Ghalib."

"He is head of the mahouts, but not the master. the one who orders you your work is my empress, Sulia Laree."

Balori considered this. "Well, I now have the gift of speech. Perhaps I should simply ask her to cease this atrocity."

"No,no! You would be killed instantly! Men everywhere are looking for you!"

Balori stood, towering high over the small, old alchemist, towering even over the nearby trees of the woods. "Let them look. What can they do? I am stronger and now have their gifts, including their gift of hatred. I will crush anyone that crosses my path to your Empress."

"Please," begged Albert. "Too many have suffered. Reconsider things. I've an idea. I'll return with a rope and you can place it about your neck as though I've captured you. I will then lead you safely into the palace where you can speak with the Empress."

Balori grunted. "Very well."

And so it was done the following noonday. People whispered at the power Albert must possess to have wrangled the changed beast without harm to himself or the elephant.

Albert lead Balori before the Empress, who shook with fear at teh creature.

"Dear Empress," spoke Balori. "I am Balori Shongoyo, one of your elephants working to build you your tower. I come before you to beseech you to free my people. They are treated horribly and wish no harm to you or any creature."

"How did you become as this?" asked the Empress.

Baloir looked at Albert.

The Empress also looked at him. "Did you do this, Albert? Did you make his as you made Fei Li Mi?"

Albert nodded. "I saw the great pains the elephants were living with. I knew your heart to be too big to allow it to continue, but you could not know it was happening for, like I, you have never visited the construction site."

"Haven't I?" asked the Empress. "Perhaps I have. But no matter, would you suggest the life of a mere dumb creature weighs more heavily than the memory of my late husband, a man that all of Bizo still loves and speaks of often?"

Balori huffed at the insult. "We are not dumb animals!"

"Then why would you allow your capture?" retorted the Empress. "Because your hearts are so big? I mock that fable. You are stupid creatures and deserve no better than men, let alone equality. Now shut up, we are speaking." she turned to look at Albert.

Balori grunted angrily.

Fei Li Mi, who was standing nearby, lowered his guandao in warning.

"Attack me, fish." Balori challenged. "Attack and I'll snap you in half and fry you to feed my people." Balori could feel the power of hatred flowing through him. he so desperately wanted to fight the fish, the Empress, Ghalib and even Albert. But he remained silent as Albert spoke.

"Empress," said the alchemist, "you cannot tell me you advocate Ghalib and his ways. They are ugly ways."

"And you cannot place a beast before a man, even a dead one," challenged the Empress. "However, I wish to be known as a fair ruler. Creature, whatever your name be, my children have never known a world with stars. I will release your people from bondage if, and only if, you can restore the stars to nighttime sky."

"The what?" Balori asked. he did not know what she spoke of for he had been born into a world without the stars and had never heard them spoken of before.

The Empress laughed. "That is the agreement. Go, let this creature pass safely. call off Ghalib's hunt and prize. If this creature can restore the stars to the Heavens, his people can be released."

"I do not know of what you speak," said Balori, "but I will do whatever it takes to see my people freed from your abuse." he lifted the rope from his neck and walked from the palace.

Albert, disgusted, spat at the Empress. "You are an ugly woman," he said.

The Empress nodded to Fei Li Mi who charged, swiftly flying, his guandao extended and piercing the gut of the alchemist. He then pulled the blades sideways and sliced his stomach open, releasing his bowels, allowing them to fall onto the floor.

Albert fell dead.

Fei Li Mi then turned to the Empress. "Empress," he nearly hissed. "Why do you charge this beast with the stars? I am the protector of the children, I should therefore be the one to take on such a task."

The Empress sighed. "You are quite the jealous creature," she said. "If that is what you wish, very well then. I doubt this elephant could return the stars to us, but in the chance he could, then perhaps you should also be on the task. Return the stars to the Heaven before this elephant and I will not have to release his people. Return them for my children and I will wash you with praise and glory."

Fei Li Mi smiled as he flew from the palace of the Eternal Empress.

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CHAPTER 8

The kingdom to the south of the Plain of Adoration filled with prostitutes and opium dens. Women were captured and sold as pleasure slaves. Men were enticed into submission through narcotics. Anyone that challenged or spoke ill of the Weasel King was ferreted out and placed in cages hung high where the offender was starved to death before the eyes of the public. Those turning in anyone speaking ill of the Weasel King was paid handsomely in coin and opium and, if they wanted, women.

Raiju Yu sent forth his men and weasels for days on end to search for the former king called Aniabas, but they could find no trace of him.

Hidden deep within tumulus filled with an intricate maze of passages was the former king. The weasels had searched for him here, but so confusing was the underground tunnels that they could barely find their way out.

With Aniabas was his general, Vitor, and several of his men and loyal subjects.

"We must return to the town and fight for our king's rightful throne," demanded Vitor amidst a heated argument.

"No," said one of the other men, "we will all be killed, including the king. And his would not be an easy execution."

"We cannot reclaim the throne from the grave," said Vitor.

"We will not," said Aniabas. "We will reclaim it from a revolt in teh streets. Surely the people fear this Weasel King. The few men we have sent into the city tell us of his terrors."

"This is true," agreed one of the soldiers that had been sent to spy in teh streets.

"We must hide, but not here," said Aniabas. "We will hide in plain view. We will enter the streets as scoundrels and create a network of those loyal to me and, when the time is ripe, attack the castle and kill the Weasel King."

Vitor shook his head. "This all sounds quite impossible."

"Would you rather live to your dying days in this grave?" asked Aniabas.

Vitor said he would not. "But how would we disguise ourselves. Perhaps the rest could pass as simple peasants, but you and I would be recognized immediately."

"This is true. But our men have said the sick walk the streets with the rest of the people. That gives us our disguise. We must scar ourselves," explained the former king.

Aniabas commanded Vitor produce his knife and, with great care, the former general sliced at his king's face until he was nearly unrecognizable. When the wounds healed over, producing incredibly ugly welts and disfigurements so not their own mothers would recognize them, they donned the blankets of the sick, practiced their coughs and hoarse voices and entered into the town as lepers.

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That's the end of Act 2. It was a long one! But I hope you enjoyed it. Check back next Friday, July 18th for the third and final act of "The Elephant Crusade"!

"The Elephant Crusade" -- Act I

This week I present to you Act I of "The Elephant Crusade" which is part of the ongoing saga set within the wuxia world of Xiao-tep. "The Elephant Crusade" picks up where "The Ruby Bug" left off two weeks ago.

To read the previous tales:

"The Children of Gods" Act I
"The Children of Gods" Act II
"The Children of Gods" Act III
"The Children of Gods" Act IV
"The Children of Gods" Act V

"At the Peony Teahouse" Act I
"At the Peony Teahouse" Act II

"The Theft of Heaven" Act I
"The Theft of Heaven" Act II
"The Theft of Heaven" Act III

"The Ruby Bug" Act I
"The Ruby Bug" Act II
"The Ruby Bug" Act III

I've taken the liberty to already provide a few links to names within this story. These links do not suggest I mean to make the characters the very same people I allude to. but to simply give you possible background for the inspirations for the characters.

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"The Elephant Crusade"
(c) 2008 by Charles Shaver. All rights reserved.

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ACT I: The Alchemist of Bizo

DEMONS OF ILLNESS: Wherein the Alchemist Abu Ali Qi Yazid Visits the Bizo Empress; The Catfish Fei Li Mi is Made; Empress Sulia Designs a Monument to Her Late Husband

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CHAPTER 1

Four times more beautiful, four times more gracious, four times more sacred was Sulia Laree than any other woman. Her skin was fair, pale, pure white as the finest porcelain. She was not so tall, but her thinness and long limbs made her appear so. She wore flowing silk gowns, mostly of light blues. Growing up, she had fallen in love with the stars of the night sky when first they appeared. On the night they fell, on the night Zom Loa stole away with the Jewel of Zingtai, Sulia Laree was heartbroken.

She became empress to the people called Bizo two days after the stars fell from the sky. She obtained the position through marriage and death. Her husband had been chosen as emperor by a collection of gods that asked him to become the Bizoan ruler. He happily accepted. After his wife gave life to their second child, he was suddenly and tragically crushed by a falling stone that had slipped loose from a monument he had ordered built to honor the gods that had placed him as emperor.

The Bizoans wailed and weeped for their dead emperor and, as their mourning soured to anger, they accused jealous gods and demons for not only the disappearance of the stars but the death of their beloved leader. The question of a new ruler was brought to the public mind and, humbly, softly, Sulia Laree stepped forward into the position. She gave great parades to honor her husband and tributes to his loyal followers. The people, and the gods that had favored her husband, smiled upon her.

The Bizoans carried on with their lives, trusting their new empress and loving her as a daughter to the gods and a daughter of Bizo.

The mood of the people soured once more, however, as Empress Sulia's children grew to speaking age and the Empress was taken ill several times. A small collection of good citizens then commissioned the wonderworker and alchemist Abu Ali Qi Yazid to aid in improving the health of the Empress. Money was collected and saved, a messenger named Shabar was chosen, a horse gifted for the journey and the servant was sent to find the famed alchemist. A year and a day passed before the messenger finally returned with Abu Ali Qi Yazid.

By this time, the Empress was quite ill and her two children were under the care of her servants. Abu Ali Qi Yazid came to her bedside and greeted her. Her fairness, even in sickness, glowed more against the age of the alchemist. He was an ancient man and his face was riddled with wrinkles like a spider's webbing. His back was curved with age. He wore light silk robes as did the Empress, but dyed in darker, midnight blues. He wore upon his head a hat looking much like a rectangular spire. He had no hair upon his head and only thin whispers of white whiskers at the corners of his mouth. His age had drawn his eyes almost shut. He often struggled to peer through his forever squinting eyes. Despite his age, his smile was bright and youthful and full of energy (some would even say of mischief). His laugh, too, seemed innocently devilish, like that of a child that has tied strings to the tail of a cat.

He bent over the sick Empress and said, "Hello, young lady. What's all this business about you being sick? I hear you're quite busy with running the matters of the Bizo, but cannot do so due to your illness. Come, come, what's this all about?"

The Empress looked up at him. His old yet gentle features made her smile weakly as she spoke, "I've taken quite ill, Abu Ali Qi Yazid. I do not know what to do to improve my condition."

The alchemist shook his head. "Please, we'll never get anywhere if you continue to take up half our conversation by using my formal name. Call me Albert."

The eyes of the Empress grew wide with wonder. "Albert? That's quite a pedestrian name."

The alchemist chuckled. "Which is why I rarely use it. It has no spark or sparkle, no flavor or flair, no entertainment value. Now, I ask of you, would you rather be treated for illness by Abu Ali Qi Yazid or have demons casted out by little old Albert? It's a gimmick, a calling, a professional name. Albert is my birth-name."

The Empress laughed a small way and her servants standing nearby smiled, pleased she at least was happy enough to laugh.

"What ails you?" asked Albert.

The Empress sighed. "I've been quite lethargic and depressed and unable to remove myself from bed. I feel as though I may become sick at any moment and spill forth my small meals, what little I can eat lately, all over the room. I do not know what exactly ails me."

"I do!" claimed Albert. The servants nearby hummed softly with murmurs and excitement. "You said the thing yourself, the demon that plagues you is no more than old Mister Sadness. I'm told you recently lost your husband and took over his position of power. That's certainly a lot for a seasoned general to conduct himself with, let alone a fair beauty such as yourself. All you need is some fine entertainment, perhaps a day in the country and good fruits. Oh, do you have good fruits? I've had this abhorrent craving for watermelon lately that has driven me to several far reaches of different lands to find good watermelon."

"It's true, Mistress," spoke Shabar, the servant that had retrieved the alchemist, "I found him in a small bazaar in the northern lands eating watermelon. He had two more in his sack with him. I had to promise we'd provide him with watermelon as payment to convince him to come with me."

The three giggled and laughed at this.

And so a grand picnic was planned by Albert the Alchemist and the servants for the Empress Sulia Laree and her two children. They rode into the country and sat upon a crested hill overlooking the valley of the Bizo on a bright, warm day. They ate fresh roasted chicken and grapes and olives and breads and for dessert they had sliced and placed before them many, many watermelons. Albert squealed with joy and good humor as he plunged himself into the moist, sweet fruits.

Sulia Laree's illness lifted and they returned home.

To honor Albert, Empress Sulia said, "I will make a monument for you if you wish. You are now and shall forever be friend to the Bizoans. How may we honor you?"

Albert said, "You never truly overcame your grief for the loss of your husband, though you are in better spirits. If you want to purge yourself of all illness you must first honor your passed husband. Do that instead. I need no honor but your friendship. And, may I remind you, I've already received my payment." At this Albert patted his belly beneath his robes and licked his lips with thoughts of the watermelons he had eaten.

Empress Sulia laughed. "Thank you, friend. Perhaps, then, we could persuade you to stay for some time? We would deem it honorable to call you a fellow citizen. Please, stay."

Albert thought on it. "Will you provide me with more watermelon?" he asked.

"We will provide you with whatever your heart desires," assured the Empress.

That is how Albert the Alchemist, otherwise known as Abu Ali Qi Yazid, came to be a Bizoan.

Time passed and Albert became fast friends with Empress Sulia's son Adad and her daughter, the eldest of the two, Alecto. He became their tutor and oft told them tales of his previous journeys and adventures. Albert became a respected, well-liked counsel to the Empress and her people.

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CHAPTER 2

Things did go on in this way for some time when, as the children grew, Albert noticed they became forlorn. When he asked what the matter was, Alecto said, "Oh, Albert. We are very sad. We do not spend all day working at chores or playing as do other children. We have no friends because we are always with you, studying how to read and write and add and subtract. We are so very lonely."

Albert thought on this a long time. He, too, did not consider the arrangement to be their tutor so wonderful. He enjoyed teaching them, however he, on many days, seemed to be more their nanny than their teacher and tending to them took away time from his desired magical studies. He spent a great deal of time studying upon the matter. At last, he decided to make for the children a friend and nanny at once. As the children enjoyed going to the riverside where he would often instruct them, Albert went to the river and there he found a gigantic channel catfish the size of a small man. He caught it with a large net. With a bit of potion and after a month's studying turned the fish into something that could breathe air as a man, with intelligence enough to speak and read and write. But the catfish flopped around on the floor and cried out, "I cannot swim where there is no water! Please, give me legs!" But Albert did not know how to do this. He did, however, know how to make things levitate for a short time. "Perhaps," Albert told the catfish, "if we pray together for some good time I can come up with just the right ingredients to make it so you can levitate at will and at all times." The catfish agreed and soon he was not only able to float about gently in an upright position as a man might walk, but he was also able to fly. With some training he soon was able to grip things with his fins as though he had hands.

The catfish had four pairs of barbels upon his face - one pair atop his mouth, another pair at the corners of his mouth appearing as though whiskers of a mustache, and two pair below his mouth forming an odd, wispy beard. The catfish was a golden brown and as he flew the sun glinted off his scales with the color of an iridescent honeycomb. Albert named him Fei Li Mi, the Flying Honeycomb.

Albert explained to Fei Li Mi that he had made him thus so as to tend to the children. Fei Li Mi enjoyed the idea and soon was introduced to Adad, Alecto and even the Empress Sulia. They adored him and Empress Sulia made Fei Li Mi a permanent member of her court.

Each day that Albert came forth to take the children to the river to study, however, Fei Li Mi grew very jealous. "They are my charges," he once told the Empress.

"Indeed," she conceded. "But they must have a good education. Not all people are allowed such things and they must take advantage of Albert's vast knowledge lest they become poor beggars in the streets. If you wish, why not ask if you may accompany them for their studies?"

Fei Li Mi did so and he was welcomed. The jealousy subsided in a small way. But soon a plot grew within Fei Li Mi's belly to kill the alchemist. Each night, after he had put the children to bed, Fei Li Mi would sneak away to train with one of the armed men of the Bizo army in the ways of fighting. He learned to use the pike, the naginata and the longbow efficiently, though his favored weapon was the guandao. He knew not when he might strike, but knew he would one day kill Albert.

Then, one night, as he was putting the children to bed, Albert appeared to say goodnight to the children. "Good night, dear Albert! Good night, dear Fei Li Mi!" called the children. "We love you both so very much!"

Hearing this, Fei Li Mi knew he could not kill the alchemist without breaking the hearts of the children he loved so much. He abandoned his plans, though he did not abandon his training. Without the need to further hide his training, he announced it to the Empress and she was pleased. "I am happy one so close to the children has learned to defend himself and protect them. Carry on with your training." She then gave Fei Li Mi a red sash to wear over his left shoulder and across his chest, as was the fashion for the Bizo soldiers. He was made a full member of the army. She then commissioned a smith to make for him a grand and glorious guandao made of gold. It was etched along the oak handle with images of all kinds of fish, as was the blade. A long red cloth, much like his sash, was tied to the pole just below the blade. The children each gave him an additional piece of cloth to tie together with the red cloth. Alecto gave him a bright yellow cloth while the cloth gifted to him by Adad was as blue as tropical seas. It was a heavy weapon but he wielded it with mastery. The weight simply gave him the ability of greater impact and greater blows.

So amazing was the sight of the catfish that he became as a hero among the Bizoans. His acceptance by the people allowed him to introduce Adad and Alecto to other children and they made, for the first time, friends their own age. But both child agreed their greatest friendship was with Fei Li Mi. They loved him and their friends came to love him. Fei Li Mi was soon given the name Protector of the Children by the people of Bizo. Fei Li Mi happily accepted the title and often he was observed watching over the children of Bizo as they played, making certain they were well and safe.

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CHAPTER 3

All went on joyfully. Then one day Shabar came to Albert and said, "Some time ago, you mentioned that the Empress will never purge herself of illness lest she build a monument to honor her passed husband. I have been wondering, can any person, even those loved by the gods, ever be free of illness?"

Albert nodded with thought. He said, "This is quite the question for a simple servant. It is a question many great minds have pondered, gone mad over and sent themselves into hermitage to discover an answer to. If illness can be a demon of the mind, not just some outward working entity, can any person ever truly be free from illness? It would seem, at times, we mortals - and I say mortals for I cannot expound about the Gifted Ones for I am not one and I have met very few in my life - would curse ourselves with worry and doubt and fear and, ultimately, resulting illness. Wish that I had an answer, friend, but I do not. I can only suspect that when one frees oneself from worry, doubt and fear can we potentially become pure and impenetrable."

Shabar's face soured with thought. "I do not wish to see our beloved Empress suffer any more."

Albert nodded, understanding.

"Is there anything you can do?"

Albert considered matters. He said, "Again, I cannot alter her mind. That is her realm alone. But I can alter her physical state. Know I the recipe for the Dancing Water. It would free her from all future physical suffering except any that may occur at the hands of a Gifted One or a God. That I would happily do for her."

"Have you taken this Dancing Water yourself?" Shabar asked.

Albert shook his head. "No, I have not."

"You are not a Gifted One? Surely you must be!" Shabar demanded to know. "Why would you not become immortal? I thought all alchemists were immortal!"

Albert breathed deep. "I am happy where I am. I enjoy the changes of the seasons and in myself. I was born a mortal curious with alchemy. I shall most likely die as such, though that is only my suspicions. I cannot sooth the future."

So Albert and Shabar approached the Empress with the offer of immortality. She was shocked, surprised, delighted. She asked many of her people what they thought on the matter and it was revealed she was so well loved that the Bizo people delighted in the thought of having her forever master their lands. "So be it," said Empress Sulia to Albert. "If it is the will of my people, I must do it. Mix up your elixir. I will drink it."

Albert left Bizo to gather ingredients from all over the world. After three months he returned and for three months more he prayed, mixed, researched and fasted while making the Dancing Water. At last, frail with hunger and concentration, he came before Empress Sulia and gave her the elixir in a small crystal flask. She drank deeply from it and became immortal. Her people cheered. Sulia Laree came to be known as the Eternal Empress.

Albert regained his weight and health. He continued his instructions to Adad and Alecto while Fei Li Mi watched nearby. Soon, though, Sulia Laree the Eternal Empress fell with some crippling illness. Albert was sent for. He leaned over her as she lay in bed as he had the first day they had met. "What is it, Empress?"

"Last night, while sleeping, I dreamed of a time as a child I was playing with a cousin under the star-filled night sky. It was a few days after the stars and night first appeared. It was such a happy time. Now my children barely know a world with stars. They were much to young to know them when they fell. How I miss them. And I realized I had almost forget them! Do you remember the stars, friend Albert?"

"That I do," he nodded. "Though, you are correct. I barely, vaguely recognize the thought. But you must not let the matters of heaven concern you."

"Not concern me? I am the Empress of the Bizo. What affects the world affects my people and affects me."

Albert nodded. "Perhaps, but if you insist on worrying over the matters of Heaven, perhaps I should, if it is not too bold, suggest to you to not lie here crippled with worry or wonder or what have you and instead rise up and do something about what is on your mind."

Angered by his boldness, Empress Sulia sat up. "Fine, then! I will!"

She immediately sent word for her friend Stork, the mother of Motharus, to come pay her a visit. Stork, being an old and loyal friend of the Empress, did pay a visit.

"So long has it been since we last visited together," said Empress Sulia. "Much too long. Many things have changed since our last meeting."

Stork nodded in agreement as she perched on the back of a chair provided to her by the servants. "It has been much too long," she agreed. "I am afraid the changes in the world and in my life have kept me from visiting. I had met a man and fell in love and with him had a son, though my son now has gone astray from me and I do not know his whereabouts. When last I saw you, dear Sulia, you were going on and on about some handsome, rich beau you had met."

Empress Sulia blushed. Then the blood ran from her face and she grew sad. "I married him. So great a man was he that a council of gods asked him to rule the Bizoans. He died in horrible tragedy. Now I am alone and ruler of the Bizo. Well, I am not alone, but friends and husbands are different things."

Stork nodded. "I know this well. I, too, lost my husband. Does this explain the sorrow I see in you now?"

The Empress nodded. "It does. And the other night I had a dream and I dreamed of the stars. You live in the Heavens, dear friend. What happened to the stars?"

Stork said, "I do not truly know, but I have heard rumors that Zingtai the Birdwing of Night had a jewel stolen from one of her wings. It was her jewels that were the stars. And with one missing, she can no longer fly. She fell and with her went the stars."

"How very sad," the Empress said. "If only there was a way to help return her jewel. Who would do such a thing? Who would rob another? Did they not know it would affect everyone?"

"I have no answers to those questions, I'm afraid," said Stork.

The Empress sighed. "I and my people, it would seem, are forgetting about the stars. Dear friend, dear Stork, can you help in this?"

"I would love to. But how?"

"The heavens, have they a library?"

Stork shook her head. "No, though some of the gods have their own. But no library exists that is shared by all the Heavens."

"Could you make one of the chambers in the Heavens into a library and there record all the things that have and are happening in the world that you hear of and see? Can you do this?"

Stork nodded. "Yes, I could do that."

And so the Library of Heaven was created and Stork began recording all things in history by engraving them onto shale and placing them into the chamber. The collection of shale tablets came to be known as the Record of Memory. Where once before there was no past or future in the world, there was only the present, now Stork had given the world the gift of memory and thoughtful planning. Memory of the stars returned to those who had lived to see them. For those far too young, they still knew nothing of the Jewels of Zingtai but what the elders told them.

Albert consulted with Stork, who told him how badly the Empress missed the stars and her husband. Albert, afraid he had angered the Empress too much, approached her and asked if there was anything that could be done to appease the Empress.

"Be kind and gentle," was all Sotk gave as advice. She then left the lands of the Bizo.

Cautiously, Albert approached Empress Sulia. "Empress? If I may have a word?" he said.

"Come to me, Albert. You are a friend. I had no right to rage at you. I feel better and I had only to act upon my own illness, an illness caused by my own mind. Come, say what you will, we are friends once more and friends should speak their minds together without fear."

Albert smiled, happy to hear this, though yet wary. "I would like to suggest another picnic. This time, however, later in the day - some time before sunset - and with notice placed to the people to watch us from the valley."

"What ever for?" the Empress asked.

Albert smiled devilishly, as a child might. "It is a secret."

Together they laughed.

The picnic was had and it was much like the one before. Adad chased his older sister Alecto around the hill threatening to place odd bugs in her hair while Fei Li Mi attempted to calm them; Shabar joined them and sang a few songs; the Empress laughed delightfully as Albert ate his fill of watermelon. Dusk came and went and when Kalavata flew high overhead Albert asked Shabar if he could see the people in the valley. "I cannot see if they have gathered and are paying attention. My eyes are much too old and small, you know," explained the aging Albert.

Shabar chuckled and glanced into the valley and saw the people gathered there, wondering what they were meant to do. "They are down there, though perhaps a bit confused by all this."

Albert chuckled. "That's fine. They'll soon know." And Albert set fire to small bits of paper and pipes he had brought with him. Each was filled with some recipe of fine grain, some powder that burned hotly and brightly. From the pipes exploded colorful shots that screamed through the air before exploding into sparkling colors and raining down towards the people in the valley. At first, many people - including the Empress herself - were afraid of the loud noises and witchery that Albert commanded to light up the night sky. But when the people looked they saw the beloved nighttime stars being temporarily replaced with glittering, colorful fire. The people cheered. The Empress cheered. The children cheered.

Shabar quickly dressed himself in green vines and shrubbery and a mask. With a tube at the end of a chain that he swung around, he began to dance as great colorful sparks of red fire fountained out of the tube. The Empress laughed and clapped with her children sitting in her lap. It seemed the whole world held its breath so as not to miss a single moment of what Albert would later call "my fireworks display." He was much loved thereafter.

On the way back down from the hill, after the fireworks had all been burnt and the picnic was over with, Albert said to the Empress, "I fear I cannot replace the stars entirely, but I was hoping at least to bring them back for a moment."

Adad said excitedly, "Mommy, mommy! Were the stars truly like Albert's fireworks?"

The Empress nodded. "Very much so, but they remained in the sky all night long. And they did not make the adventurous booms. They were silent, but beautiful."

"Boy!" Adad exclaimed. "I sure wish someone would return those stars!"

Fei Li Mi secretly wished he could return the stars he heard so much of but could not remember seeing for himself. He wanted so desperately to please Adad and Alecto by returning the stars, but knew nothing of how to go about doing such a thing.

The Empress smiled sweetly. She never again suffered from crippling illness, though sadness never truly became a stranger to her.

The next day she began a public program wherein the goal was to build a library in honor of her dead husband. It was to be the largest building ever attempted by the Bizoans and the plans were elaborate, some few even claimed impossible. Shabar was one of them. He said, "To do what you ask, we will need men stronger than the strongest gods."

"Does not my late husband deserve this honor?" asked the Empress.

"Absolutely!" Shabar answered.

"Then do not question it, Shabar. Simply carry it out."

"But if we use smaller stones, we can still build to the same specifications. Smaller stones would be easier for the people."

"And smaller stones speak of smaller deeds. My husband was glorious man. He deserves no less," argued the Empress.

Shabar thought a long time over matters. He consulted with Albert, who said, "In my travels, I have heard of great and mighty creatures called 'elephants'. They are said to be enormous, three or four times the size of a man and ten times stronger. It is said they can be tamed and used for work. In fact, I think people in some parts of the world do just that. If we had elephants here, we could surely do as the Empress asks."

Shabar considered this. "I have never heard of such creatures. If they do exist, how could we get them here? And where would they come from?"

Albert shook his head. "That I do not know."

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Thanks for reading Act I of "The Elephant Crusade"! I hope you enjoyed it. Be sure to check back next week for Act II!

"The Ruby Bug" -- Act III

Here is the final, closing act of my original short story "The Ruby Bug". Act III picks up where Act II leaves off.

Next week I will be posting an essay of notations about "The Ruby Bug" as I have previously done for "The Children of Gods", "At the Peony Teahouse" and "The Theft of Heaven". Be sure to look for it.

I hope you enjoy today's offering.

Read Acts 1 and 2 here.

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"The Ruby Bug"
(c) 2008 by Charles Shaver. All rights reserved.

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ACT III: Stavros of the Ruska Roma

A WICKED KNOT IS FORMED: Wherein the Brothers Jackal Are Born; A Gathering of Evil; Garu Becomes Stavros of the Ruska Roma; Yaska Selith and the Bone Warriors Settle Upon the Plain of Adoration


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CHAPTER 1

Deep within a multi-chambered ziggurat the thieves stole, leaving behind them a trail of blood and bowels of guardian soldiers. They entered the antechamber leading into the ziggurat’s center-most chamber and there were confronted by two soldiers bedecked with gold cowls, aprons and silver spears.

“Halt!” cried one of the antechamber guardians. “You’re not allowed access here!” He eyed the seven intruders clad in black, their eyes gleaming white in the antechamber’s torchlight. They crawled the walls unnaturally and one clung to the ceiling. They were as living shadows, shades of mortal men. “Find your treasures elsewhere!” the guardian told them.

“We have come not,” said one of the blackened intruders in a low, nearly inaudible hiss, “to take away from your precious palace of death. We have come instead to place something within. Whether it leaves, it would be of its own accord and not ours.”

The guardians raised their spears, advancing. “You will be allowed no farther. Turn and run or we will kill you,” spoke one.

“Too long has the new religion thumbed the ways of our ancestors,” said one of the dark figures. “Join us now or perish at the hands of the old gods.”

The guardians stood their ground.

The seven intruders jumped in unison, as if in one mind. They kicked and scratched with clawed fingers. The guardians stabbed and twirled their spears within the dank antechamber. In the end, two of the blackened intruders lay dying and the two guardians were dead, blood spilling from cuts at their throats and temples.

Fearing their dying comrades would be found and made to speak, the remaining five finished the lives of their two fallen comrades. The two dying gave no fight in this.

They entered the center chamber, taking torches to light their way. Within the chamber’s center stood a massive sarcophagus. Its surface glinted gold in the torchlight. The intruders struggled to push off the top, opening it and releasing ancient dust into the dank air. Lying inside were the mummified remains of an old deity.

The torches were placed in crevices in the walls, abstract items and bones produced, talismans and scrolls. As the torches flickered from some unseen breeze, the five began to chant in a long-forgotten language. As they chanted, the mummy moved. It awoke. And before they could finish the ritual it burst forth from the sarcophagus, flying through the hard stone of the ziggurat, flying straight and high. The stones ripped at the mummy’s wrappings, removing them, revealing a man beneath, emaciated and leather with a jackal’s dark head.

The old god exploded from the top of the ziggurat and flew away into the dark night sky. He hungered for flesh, for contact. Most of all, he lusted for companionship. He flew until he came to a mountain and, spying down, found an old woman there with iridescent wings like an insect. A witch. He did not know her to be a witch, he did not recognize the twisted ugliness of her face, nor did he care. He tackled her and raped her repeatedly. She screamed out into the night, using her powers to release herself from his grasp, but she was too weak to battle against his ancient strength. His vitality shot into her, some of it dribbling down her leg. He paused to rest, to look at the world and the starless night.

The Mountain Witch crawled away. He turned and saw her trying to make her escaped and attacked her once more, salivating, slather her with his tongue. He howled as he satisfied himself. She screamed. As he flew away into the night

Six days later the old Mountain Witch gave birth to two jackals, twins, that howled into the night. They tried to eat her, but they were yet too weak for effective attacks. She captured them together in a bag of hemp and took them to a nearby river that washed down the mountain and out into the sea and threw them into it. They drifted and she was happy knowing they would soon be battered and drowned.

But they did not drown. They grew quickly, chewing free of the burlap sack and found they could speak and stand as men. One had golden fur with three black stripes down its back, one large in the center of his spine and two smaller, thinner, on either side of the larger. The fur of the other was red. Where his brother had a thick black stripe down his back, so did this one, but on either side of the stripe he was speckled with black spots. They took names, the golden one Trebizond and the red one Tavaras, and set about to feed themselves.

Together they terrorized one countryside after another. They came to be known as The Brothers Jackal, as evil spirits and omen of greater doom.

While hunting mortal men in a village one day, Tavaras bit a villager but the villager escaped. By the time he found the villager, the mortal was about to die. Tavaras drew near to feast upon his kill, but the mortal convulsed three time consecutively, then, as the body was lying still, it began to grow a thin coat of fur much like Tavaras'. Soon the mortal was alive again, covered in fur, his face extending out into a canine muzzle. The mortal now looked more like Tavaras than anything else.

This new creature spoke, “Father, I am at your command, but I am hungry. Can I feed?”

Tavaras called over his brother and explained what had happened, showing the new creature off as though he were Tavaras' son.

“It would seem,” said Trebizond, “that we can make children with a single bite.”

On they went terrorizing mortals, eating them and occasionally turning them into one of their own for entertainment.

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CHAPTER 2

The demon-dog traveled some ways across the world, the dark harpy Neboshazzar always at his side or on his shoulder. Together they ruined settlements and towns, corrupting many to their roving and pillaging ways. Soon the demon-dog had a small following always at his heels comprised of thieves, pirates, murderers, misfits and scoundrels, outlaws and outcasts. They named the demon-dog Yaska Selith, The Barghest of Howling Madness and Murder. They loved him for, unlike many other Gifted Ones who kept to themselves, rarely consorting with mortals, Yaska Selith lived and roamed upon the lands of the mortal world. He made sure they were fat, happy and loyal. In the presence of such a demon many mortals felt incredible power and whatever they had ever lusted for they could have if only they would ask. If a murderer wanted to kill off an entire town’s population, the barghest would stand guard, his other companions creating a perimeter so escape was impossible while the murderer quenched his bloodlust. If a rapist wanted every woman in a brothel, the barghest would raise the building filled with woman in his clawed paw, allow the rapist to enter and send the women screaming while Yaska Selith peaked through the doors and watched.

The demon-dog was power to his mortal companions, a power such that it chased away fear of retribution.

Yet Yaska Selith, the demon that once was a fisherman’s Pup, was still forming into his demonic self. After a night’s pillaging, as his followers slept, Yaska Seltih awoke in great, agonizing pain. A small hole appear on his forehead. He cried out, howling. His followers awoke in time to see the hole appear, bleed a little, grow a small eyelid and close. A few of those that had heard the howl were given over to madness and ran off to pleasure and defecate themselves, to drool, losing knowledge of feeding themselves until, at last, they starved to death. So small was the hole that, if they had not seen it forming, they most likely would have missed it the next morning against Yaska Selith’s immensity. The demon-dog stood taller than twenty men while the hole was a mere crater, no more than a finger-width’s wide.

Yaska Selith grunted, panting. He placed two clawed fingers upon his forehead and drew away small dabs of blood. He felt again and found the small, new eye. Concentrating, he opened the small eyelid of the third eye and out shot a great beam of red light, setting all things aflame in its path – including two of his followers. Gravely laughter fell from the demon-dog, saying, “It would seem I have grown a new weapon.” The third eye closed. His followers cheered.

Yaska Selith did not comprehend this new eye, nor did he care to. It destroyed worldly things when he opened it and that was enough knowledge for him. He cared not how it worked, or why, nor did he care to know that buried deep behind the eye, close to the skull, his flesh had captured and mounted the tiny ruby bug, the source of the destructive beam.

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CHAPTER 3

Garu found a small village of tradesmen and farmers and there he entered, not knowing the local superstitions of Gifted Ones or even that he himself was a Gifted One. Everything was new to the rat-man that was once a simple rat foraging for food with his friend that fed him. When Doko was alive and his friend, Garu had a favored life. Never had he the need to hunt then for Doko had provided all. But now, with Doko dead, Garu on his own and in his new form with the power of speech and upright mobility, in a new country, he felt an alien in strange worlds.

He had found the village when he crested a large hill and looked down its steep rolling sides. The village sat along a thin river, a tributary of some larger river, and on either side of the river grew fields of wheat and whey that bent in the wind like small, soft roiling waves on the sea. "Surely," thought Garu, "A place with people so rich with grain could spare a meal in exchange for this jewel."

In his arms he still carried with him the massive Jewel of Zingtai, the emerald that had been stolen from the heavens, from the wing of Zingtai the Butterfly, the Nighttime Birdwing.

Garu descended the hill and entered the small village. When the people there saw him, they challenged him. "Leave!" they cried. "Leave us alone! Vermin bring disease and eat our crops!"

"I just want a meal!" Garu called back in fear, desperate with hunger and a desire to be understood. "Please! I'll trade you this stone for a meal!"

"Go!" they shouted. The people picked up their tools - hammers, scythes, forks and hoes - and brandished them at what they thought was an invading demon.

Garu turned to escape, to run away, but found he was surrounded. "How can I leave if you've surrounded me?" he asked. He realized then they meant to harm him, to kill him and not simply chase him away.

A villager charged, his pitchfork lurching out before him like a spear. Garu had to drop to the ground, losing hold of the jewel in the process, to dodge the oncoming farmer's makeshift weapon. When the farmer came to stand over him, adjusting the fork so he could stab downward at the prone rat-man, Garu remembered his fights in the hull of the ship when he and Doko had crossed to this new land. He turned on his back, reached up, grabbed hold of the farmer and pulled him down while kicking up with his hind legs.

The farmer tumbled away, blood spraying from his mouth as his chest caved and exploded within as bloody wounds.

Garu stood. The villagers eyed him warily. Their desire to fight had shrunk at seeing one of their own dying. Geru picked up the jewel and precariously stepped forward. The villagers backed away, their tools pointed at him. When he was sure they would let him, Garu ran and fled the village.

He struggled back up the nearby hill and looked back, spying it to discover if he was being followed. The village bustled with activity, some sort of ritual to spirit away evil was being performed and the wounded man was being tended to, but no one was coming after him.

"It would seem," said he to himself as he stood panting, gasping for air, "my new form is no more befriended than my old. Need I to take care." His stomach growled. "Need I some food!"

With the Jewel of Zingtai in his arms, he descended the other side of the hill, circled the village far from their sight, and carried on his quest for food.

The next time Garu spied a collection of people was at the Grand Bazaar of Tenhar, an open market the length of a massive city. He watched from a good, safe distance for a long time. Not only did he witness people like his old friend Doko entering and exiting the bazaar with ease, he was certain several animal creatures like himself had come and gone, as well. "This is like the places Doko would go," he thought aloud, "but far greater in size and number of people. It would seem safe, though, if not, it must end in my demise. I escaped that village because there were so few people and they were so full of fear. Here, however, there would likely be someone not quite so afraid and many willing to end me quickly."

He pondered entering the bazaar for a while. He could see all variety of people wandering through openly. Colorful tapestries filled the aisles of the bazaar. So colorful were they that Garu desired to see them up close. The sweet smells of fresh foods being cooked, of curry on the air, came to him. At long last, his growling stomach made the decision for him. He picked up his green rock and started cautiously towards the bazaar's entrance.

The bazaar stretched the entire length of the city. It was colorful with tapestries and silks and cloths and smelled of fine foods that made Garu’s stomach rumble. Curry and incense mixed on the air. Garu was in awe of the many merchant booths. “It would seem” said he to himself, “that one could buy anything here.”

And he was correct in this. Livestock and monkeys, pets and plants, jewelry and spices, foods and games and gambling and companionship and hookahs and pipes, slaves and wives, workmen and the finest things from all over the world could be purchased at the Grand Bazaar of Tenhar. As he walked down the middle of the bazaar he noticed few people stared at him, but those that did seemed more to train their eyes upon the giant jewel he carried.

“Friend!” called a nearby merchant. “How much are you asking for that jewel?”

“A meal, a good meal and nothing more,” Garu answered.

“A meal? A mere meal?” the merchant asked, realizing too late he had perhaps given away the value of the jewel. “I will give you a meal from our food court, anything you wish, in trade for that jewel you carry.”

“Bah!” scoffed a nearby merchant. “Food from the court here? Surely the chefs here are the finest, but nothing substitutes a home-cooked meal. Friend,” he said this to Garu, “I invite you into my home for such a meal, two days’ meals, in fact. My wife is a fine cook and, should you wish, I’ll even give you my wife during your stay. I ask in return only for that jewel.”

Garu was confused by this. He wanted a simple, single meal. The worth of the jewel slowly came to him. “This must be worth quite a bit for you to offer your woman,” said he to the second merchant.

A third merchant, from a booth behind Garu, called out, “His wife is ugly! I’ll let you have your way with any woman you wish at one of our fine brothels, two or three if you would like, plus meals in the courts here for three days. In exchange I ask for the jewel.”

On went the bidding until, frustrated with the attention more than anything, Garu made a deal with the fifth merchant to have joined in the bargaining. In trade for the jewel Garu received a week’s worth of pleasures at a nearby brothel, five days worth of meals free, plus a small purse filled with coins of the local region.

Garu ate and was pleasured by the women. He drank and found he liked alcohol, especially fruity wines. In five short days that seemed to go by quickly for the rat-man, he grew fat and tired of sex. He slept on the ground outside the bazaar if he did not fall asleep in the arms of a whore. After that it took him a mere two days to spend all his coins on food and women and wine. He returned the the merchant he had sold the jewel to and asked, “I am out of coins. How may I get more?”

The merchant looked at him, “Ah, the rat-man! You’ll be happy to know I sold your jewel already and I was actually able to make a small profit of it.” Little did Garu understand the merchant had made a sizeable profit on the jewel, nearly enough to retire on. “What’s this you say of coin? You need more? Well, I have a way for you to earn some. If you carry a package to me in the neighboring country I will in return give you more coins.”

Garu agreed to this, and so became a merchant’s delivery man and errand servant.

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CHAPTER 4

Yaska Selith and his band grew to be known far and wide. Many of his followers took up the practice of wearing their victim’s bones around their necks, through their ears or noses, on their heads or stitched to clothing on their shoulders, arms and legs and, as such, came to be known as the demon-dog’s Bone Warriors. They became legendary in their ability to be merciless. A few were skilled, trained warriors and they taught the others, but none could quite claim to be the best warriors in the world. Yaska Selith thought on this. “We must recruit fine fighters, strong fighters,” he consulted with Neboshazzar, which he often did despite Neboshazzar’s inability to respond. But Neboshazzar always listened. “We will recruit some excellent fighters to fill our ranks, to become captains of our army, to train all the rest to improve their skills. We will become unstoppable.”

One of Yaska Selith’s followers, a man named Sinvergüenza, overheard this and said, “Dear master, my demonic lord to whom I am most loyal, if you are serious about what you speak, no finer fighters can be found than at the Peony Teahouse. The world’s best gather there to prove and improve their skills. It is one of the few spots where Gifted Ones and mortals congregate mutually.”

“How know you this?” asked Yaska Selith.

“I have been there, master.”

“As a fighter?”

“No, I am much too inefficient a fighter to take my chances in the arena of the Peony. In my previous affairs before joining your ranks I was quite the gambler and betting upon the fights is encouraged there, as well as other forms of games.”

Yaska Selith considered this. “Know you your way to this teahouse?”

Sinvergüenza nodded. “That I do.”

“Then take three men and go, find me the greatest fighters in the world.”

The four men were sent to seek fighters at the Peony Teahouse while Yaska Selith and the rest of his followers continued their onslaught against the world, town after town.

Once they came into a small town that had already been ravaged, the people sent screaming into the hills. As he and his followers looked about, they discovered the Brothers Jackal, now with eight children and followers of their own, feasting upon the flesh of the dead and unlucky enough not to escape. Neboshazzar eyed them as they ate, salivating from his silvery teeth.

“Ho!” called Yaska Selith. “You there! The dogs! Who are you?”

The Brothers Jackal peered at one another, blood dripping from their muzzles, their fur matted with sweat and gore. Suspicion and excitement filled them at the sight of such an immense canine creature. “Tre,” said Tavaras, who had taking to calling his brother Trebizond ‘Tre’, “he is one of us, this creature, though far larger. He must be made our friend.”

Trebizond nodded, turning to answer the giant demon-dog. “We are Trebizond and Tavaras, the Brothers Jackal, and these are our minions and children. Who might you be?”

Yaska Selith’s followers scoffed at the familiar way Trebizond spoke to their master. “He is Yaska Selith, Barghest of Howling Madness and Murder!” cried one. “He is one of the Gifted Ones and master of the world over. We are his happy servants, the Bone Warriors.”

The Brothers Jackal looked over the collected followers of the demon-dog, eyed each other, and Tavaras said, “Well met, Yaska Selith and his Bone Warriors. We’ve not enough to share our feast with you as yet, but given time we could hunt more and we would be happy to share.”

Yaska Selith ignored the offer. “Tell me, Brothers Jackal, how is it that your small group of canine warriors came to raze this town? It is small, true, but you seem so few.”

“We may be few,” answered Tavaras, “but we are superior hunters and strong fighters. This is how we survive. If we do not succeed in assaulting towns, we would starve and die.”

Yaska Selith considered this. Growling laughter filled his gullet, streaming out his throat and shook the ground beneath them. “I say you, how many are there of you? Ten?”

Unsure if they should be insulted by the demon-dog's laughter, Trezibond answered, “There are indeed ten of us,” he then eyed the Bone Warriors, realizing they were outnumbered three-to-one, and added angrily, “but we can easily make more.”

“Make more?” asked the demon-dog.

Trebizond nodded, looking up at the tall Yaska Selith. “Indeed. Our bite, if not carried through to the killing blow, changes a mortal person into one of our children.”

The Bone Warriors shuffled nervously, murmuring among each other. Seeing this made the Brothers Jackal smile for they knew they could intimidate these soldiers.

“How many more could you make?” asked Yaska Selith.

“As many as needed,” answered Tavaras.

Yaska Selith nodded. “Good. I’ve a thought: we, being already cousins in the very least if not brothers canid, should join together. If you do, I will provide you with all the adventure, slaughters, rampagings and engorgements you desire. In return I ask only that you swell the ranks of my Bone Warriors with your kind, using your bite. And, of course, for your loyalty.”

Trebizond and Tavaras eyed one another. They need not speak for they often thought the same things. They merely judged each others’ facial expressions, reactions to gauge an answer. Together they agreed silently, together they smiled and turned their heads up to look at the towering demon-dog, together they spoke, “We would join you.”

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CHAPTER 5

Garu despised the work he did for the merchant. At last, when once he was given a satchel of coins to be delivered to another merchant in a nearby countryside for the purchase of some goods, Garu simply made off with the coins and disappeared into far lands.

Chased from town to town, always on the verge of hunger, Garu ran from one country to the next. At last, near death and so starved was he, when he came upon a band of nomads he made no effort to hide his presence. He followed their nighttime firelight and fell unconscious in their midst. These people – gypsies and musicians, fortunetellers and thieves – gasped and readied their weapons against the rat intruder.

One of their men, a man named Mihai, approached, pressing a wary foot against the fallen Garu. “What is this creature?” he asked.

“A beast! A demon sent to devour us!” someone cried.

“No! He is a Gifted One sent from the Heavens to bless us or charge us with a quest!”

Garu moaned, waking briefly.

The gathered gypsies scuttled backward, eying him.

Garu rose, fell.

“We must kill it!” called Mihai.

“No!” came the answer. From out of their numbers came an old woman, her eyes white with blindness, her skin golden brown and speaking of her past beauty. She wore on her head three silk scarves of gold, red and violet. Hanging from each were coins from different countries she had traveled through. At her waist was a massive, flowing sash of crimson edged with glittering gold. Her dress was blue, light, layered and flitted on the night wind. She was called Ioana and she was the elder of these people and their greatest seer of things to come. “Let me see him.”

Two men stepped forward, placing their arms under the rat-man and lifting him. Garu’s eyes opened a small ways to fall on her old face as she placed hands on his muzzle and head, feeling his features.

“What is your name?” she asked Garu.

“A friend,” his voice was weak with hunger, “An old friend once called me Garu, though lately I have also been called ‘vermin’ and ‘wretched’.”

She shook her head, feeling at his right ear. Her fingers outlined the odd white ‘x’ marking his fur made. “I know not what your name means.”

Garu further awoke. “Neither do I. I was but a stupid rat before he died. Then I swallowed a bit of green stone and now I am as a man, or closer to a man than I had ever been.”

Ioana listened carefully. She considered his tale.

Garu stood under his own strength, weak as he was, but did not fight to pull his arms away from the men as he knew he would not have been able to pull away.

Ioana breathed deep. “What is your purpose here?” she asked.

“Food,” Garu answered.

Many of the gypsies gasped at this, afraid he was sent to eat them.

“Do you mean to eat us?” asked Ioana.

Garu shook his head. “No. Never have I eaten the flesh of an intelligent being. Never will I. I am hungry and unable to eat. Though my old friend was kind to have fed me, my dependence upon him has made me stupid of the world and how to survive.”

She felt his form, imagining his looks. “You are a Gifted One.”

“I know nothing of that,” he admitted. “I am but a rat that now can walk and speak as a man.”

Ioana nodded. She addressed the gypsies. “He is not a demon sent to feast on us!” she assured. “He is rather a spirit, a domovoi, sent here to be our guardian.”

“Guardian from what?” asked Mihai.

Ioana shook her head. “We will know in due course,” was her answer. “Until then, Garu the Wretched will no longer be your name. It has no meaning here and a name without meaning lends no meaning to its bearer. Your name with us will be Brat Stavroslavakovich.” She felt the white mark on his ear again. “Our Brother of the Glorious Cross, Protector of the Ruska Roma.”

Garu squinted. “Protector? Ruska Roma?”

The old woman nodded. “That is what we call ourselves. We will call you Stavros.”

And so Garu became Stavros. Mihai trained him in ways of the sword to protect himself from bandits, in the ways of the bow so that he may hunt, in the ways of curing and preserving venison and rabbit. He introduced him to finer alcohols and Stavros found a love for sweet berry wines and brawny whiskeys. Ioana taught him to read palms while a beautiful woman named Livia taught him to play the kobza, the violin, and his favored musical instrument: the accordion. He learned to sing, though his voice was raspy but not without character. And he enjoyed, usually when he had several calabashes full of wine and whiskey, to dance the Sârba. He took to wearing a red silk tunic trimmed with gold, lacey filigree stitching. He wore upon his head a silk scarf as a bandana made of the same material. He wore short pants the length of his calves where they hung raggedly. Each of his ears was pierced thirteen times and he wore thirteen gold hoop earrings of varying sizes in each ear.

In a small town he purchased from a blacksmith there - using money he had earned with the gypsies while entertaining – a large, thick, fat bladed scimitar adorned with gold hoops on the blunt side of the blade matching the gold hoops he wore in his ears. He became wild, filled with the lust of life and good things and gave himself over completely to the nomads that had kindly adopted him.

Though many of the gypsies at first feared him, they all came to love him.

On a moonless night, after traveling the day through a hilly area of the world, the gypsies were attacked by a Baba Yaga, an ancient witch desiring the flesh of their young.

Stavros challenged the witch. He jumped into the air as she flew by on her mortar, knocking her to the ground. Once grounded, the two fought all night, the Baba Yaga scarring Stavros with claws and teeth. Stavros did his best to retreat, jumping backwards when he could so as not to succumb to her assaults. At last he spun, whipping his tail into the face of the ancient witch. She screamed in terror, more frightened by the odd attack than harmed, and her shock was enough to give Stavros the opportunity for the kill blow. He jumped, his tail twisting in the air as he brought his scimitar out and across, lopping off her head. He was hailed the hero of the Ruska Romas. He had lived up to his name as protector and his people loved him. Stavros thanked Mihai for training him the use of swords.

Many nights later, after a long day’s entertaining for coin in a large city, while resting about a fire with Mihai, Ioana and Livia and playing a soft tune on his accordian, Stavros said, “Never have I felt complete. Never have I felt accepted. But now, here with you good people, I have a place. I feel right. I feel whole.”

And so Stavros became fiercely loyal to his people and they, in turn, loved him for it and were just as loyal in return. To celebrate they filled the night air with enchanting songs of love, heroism, faith, family, songs that told tales of the gods. Their joy echoed under the starless sky.

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CHAPTER 6

On went Yaska Selith, Neboshazzar, Trebizond and Tavara and the Bone Warriors defiling the world. Neboshazzar engorged himself on the flesh of innocents. Trebizond and Tavara feasted at his side, occasionally turning a victim into one of their children and swelling the ranks of Yaska Selith’s following.

Dodona, the oak that Yaska Selith claimed as his club, wailed every time she was swung in an act of destruction. She wanted no part of the demon-dog’s dealings, but had no choice in the matter.

They moved from town to town, raping every living creature and eating others. They would set fire to stables and watched, laughing as the horses ran madly inside, seeking escape before finally dying from smoke, fire or falling timbers. The Bone Warriors became cannibals and shared mortal flesh with Yaska Selith, finding it an honor.

The wicked knot roamed did maraud from land to land, growing. They sought first villages, then towns and at last, when their size was large enough, cities. They ravaged everything as they went. Rarely did they encounter other nomads, until one day. One hot, humid day, a day filled with murderous heat, they came upon the Ruska Romas.

Yaska Slith and his followers attacked immediately. The Ruska Romas tried to defend, but most were overwhelmed.

While many of his people were in awe of the immense demon-dog, Stavros charged into the fray of the enemy. He swung his sword, cutting down two Bone Warriors at a time. He spilled the blood of many. The ground drank up their blood with the pleasure of seeing the end of their evil. He worked his way slowly towards the demon-dog.

As he drew near, Stavros cried out, “Demon-dog! Challenge me! I know not why you attack my people, but I will end your bloodlust here and now lest I quench it! Come! Challenge me!”

Yaska Selith laughed. He growled, “You are so puny, Gifted One. Think you could fell me? I laugh at your size alone, your strength and skill could not possibly match that of a demon’s. Run now, rat-man, lest you perish and be raped as the rest of these people.”

“No!” Stavros called up, craning his neck to look at the demon-dog. “Fight me! Fight me, demon! Fight me and die!”

Stavros ran, his scimitar held out like a spear, and he stabbed its tip into the foot of Yaska Selith who cried out in pain. His followers halted, unsure. They did not think their demonic master could be harmed, but this rat, this vermin they all now noticed in their midst had achieved such a task and had harmed their liege.

“Dogmen!” Yaska Selith called to Trebizond and Tavaras. “Kill him!”

Stavros backed away from Yaska Selith as the Brotehr Jackal approached. He squared himself against the two, bringing his scimitar up in a defensive posture. He spit on the ground. “Where I have spit,” spoke Stavros, “is where I shall bury the two of you.”

The jackals laughed wildly and attacked.

Trebizond jumped, spinning in a flying roundhouse kick. Stavros had to back away to reduce some of the oncoming force. He sidestepped as the jackal’s foot drew close and punched Trebizond in the stomach. Trebizond heaved, sucking in air as he landed next to Stavros. The Tavaras joined them.

Stavros spun his sword and his free hand in control circles, parrying the attacks that came at him from either side. He punched Tavara with his free handm knocking him back a bit and giving him a chance to turn enough to deliver a kick to Trebizond’s stomach. Trebizond wheeled backwards and fell to one knee.

Tavara attacked, a wild haymaker punch spinning in at Stavros who blocked it with his forearm, bringing his sword up between them in a slicing motion that Tavaras barely escaped from by jumping away.

Trebizond pounced Stavros from behind, latching his two clawed hands onto the Stavros’ shoulders and kicking the small of his back with both feet. As Stavros stumbled forward, Trebizond let go and fell backwards, pushing mightily with his legs.

Stavros stumbled towards Tavara who brought a keen elbow up into his sternum, pushing the air out of the rat. Stavros heaved, aching, gasping for air.

Tavara punched him on the side of his muzzle.

Weak, Stavros was turned by the force of the punch and saw Trebizond approaching for another attack. He fell to the ground to escape the incoming assault. Trebizond almst hit his own brother.

Stavros, both jackals above him, reached up with his sword as he sucked in air, slicing the air and trying to get his blade to bite the jackals. Sweeping the sword sideways, he opened a diagonal wound along Trebizond’s chest. Blood sprayed from it, spattering across Tavara’s chest and down onto Stavros’ face.

The Brothers Jackal descended upon Stavros with punches in unison, but were met with a foot each to the muzzle. They stumbled a bit. Stavros got to his feet, gulped a bit more air, and readied himself for attack.

The jackals pounced together, each grabbing an elbow of the rat. Struggling to get away, Stavros heard the odd, terrifying scream of Dodona. He turned his head, his back to Yaska Selith, in time to see the demon-dog bringing his makeshift club down. The massive oak smashed into the back of Stavros and flung him, ripping him free of the jackals’ grip, his scimitar falling from his hand and falling away to the ground before he landed far into the hills where Stavros crashed onto the ground.

Stavros lifted his head, looking out from the hill he had landed on. Snapping lights like nighttime fireflies buzzed in his vision, but not so much he could not make out the carnage taking place, the ungodly acts being carried out upon his people. Stavros struggled to get up, but found he could not move for his back had been broken in two by the wallop from Dodona that Yaska Selith had delivered unto him. He found all he could do was lie there, watching in horror. He tried to cry out in rage, but his voice was choked. His eyes filled with tears. He had been dubbed Protector of the Ruska Roma. Now he lay within sight of their demise, unable to protect them.

Before his vision slipped from him, before consciousness escaped him, he cried softly, almost inaudibly, “Jackal-men and demon-dog, I care not where you go. I care not where you settle. I will hunt you, rip your bowels from your belly and bathe myself in your blood.”

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EPILOGUE

North of the kingdom now ruled by Aniabas, the young king that had claimed Zom Loa a thief and currently hunting him, was the massive, beautiful, flowing plain. Since the stars fell from the skies, Aniabas found his people suffering as their crops would not grow nor would their cattle be milked. He declared sacrifices to the gods be made and his declaration was carried out in the plain. Soon after the milk flowed and the crops grew in abundance. The plain was named the Plain of Adoration and the blood sacrifices continued.

The Plain of Adoration was bordered on the south by Castle Aniabas, to the west by the Black Mountains, to the east by an expansive sea and to the north by a hilly country carved twain by an incredible gorge with a small river at its bottom. The only passage from the north through the hilly country and into the Plain of Adoration was over Owl Bridge, so named for the many owls that live within this wooded hills surrounding it. It is said, on the right night, one could stand on Owl Bridge and look down into the misty hands of The Cosmos and receive all knowledge at once, but at all other times to look down one would see only the high descending cliffs disappearing into soft marine layer far below, the bottom of the gulch completely too far from sight.

Over the Black Mountains came Yaska Selith and his band of Bone Warriors. Over the Black Mountains followed the Brothers Jackal and their dog-men. Over the Black Mountains came the wickedness of demons walking upon the world of mortals. It when Yaska Selith and his followers looked around, tired of having roamed nearly every land across the world, they found the beauty of the Plain of Adoration inviting and, after small deliberation, settled there.

More people came over the mountains to join the demon-dog’s band. More came to participate in the nightly orgies of sex and blood. They took fish from the sea to eat and boars and goats to roast. They danced and played music at all hours.

It did not take King Aniabas long to notice the intrusion. “I now cannot make sacrifices within the Plain of Adoration,” said he considering things, “without consorting with a demon. I refuse to do such a thing, but without the sacrifices my people will grow hungry once more as their crops fail and their cattle dry.”

“What will we do?” asked Vitor, his younger brother and general of the army. “All we can do is, perhaps, take them to war.”

King Aniabas nodded slowly. “I fear that may be our only option. But how can our mortal army defeat a gang of bandits lead by a demon?”

“It must be done, brother,” urged Vitor.

Aniabas shook his head. “It cannot be done,” he answered, “lest we join with some other force.”

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Thanks to everyone whose been reading along. Next week I'll be posting some notes about "The Ruby Bug" and then, the week after that, I'll return with an all new story picking up right where "The Ruby Bug" left off!