BREAKING RULES, Combining two worlds (Part 3)

SELVISH

"TRE! GUNNAR! LET THOSE ROH'KADI GO, WE CAN'T FOLLOW THEM, WE HAVE TOO MANY WOUNDED WOMEN INSIDE!" It took Mohr'kad loudest roar to rise above the banging of the guns.

They, along with a still large group of women, had holed up in the fort's only bunker. And while it offered the men and women enough protection from the vast preponderance of Latarji's men, they all knew it was only a matter of time before they ran out of ammunition. Once the enemy realised this, they were almost all doomed, except the young, fertile women of course them an even more horrible fate would await....

From the shelter he was behind, he could see how a few of the smaller groups were starting to retreat again, and from the corner of his eye he could see how Gunnar wanted to sprint forward to go after the retreating group, something the enemy was probably hoping for, to slowly quell the opposition.

To his relief, he watched the young warrior obey his command and heaved a sigh of relief. The bloodlust in the warrior's eyes had not escaped him and he could not blame Gunnar for wanting revenge on those who had killed his eyséah, but he could not afford to lose another of his men. Leon had been hit in the chest while protecting a small group of elderly women, and although he had still managed to deliver the small group safely to Mohr'kad, his injuries had been too severe and he had fallen down in front of the entrance to the bunker and died before his old mentor could even get to him.

Mohr'kad beckoned Rianne, the red-haired lady who had stood with them almost from the beginning, to join him. "You take my place for a while, I want to see how everyone is doing." The woman nodded affirmatively at him and crept up behind him to take over his place.

Bent over as deeply as he could, he made his way to the entrance of the bunker, once inside he groaned internally and looked around.

A stab of disappointment shot through him at the sight of all the wounded women. He let his eyes glide over the women packed togehter like lost cubs, hoping to see a familiar face, though deep down he knew she would not be there.

"Did anyone else die from their injuries?" He knelt down next to one of the female warriors who belonged to Rianne and had desperately, but in vain, bandaged the wounds of one of her comrades.

Mohr'kad saw that she was startled by his proximity, but she quickly recovered and shook her head as she slid the hood of the vest the deceased woman wore over her face. "No, thankfully not. Kyra here was the last one. But there are plenty more seriously injured and..." She heaved a deep sigh.

"... I don't know how many of them will survive without proper medical attention..." She nodded her head in the direction of the farthest part of the bunker, where an improvised infirmary had been set up. About a dozen severely wounded women lay there. Some were lying dead still, but most were groaning in pain and the old warrior felt a stab of guilt in his stomach. Women did not belong in a war zone, not even these well-trained women. Women were far too precious. They were the ones who gave life, who could keep order and control the hot-headed men when they were once again too high in the blood of war.

After he and the woman exchanged a few more words, he stood up and walked to the containers of water and poured himself a cup. Fortunately, the women had always taken care to keep the bunker's inventory in order, something they benefited from now, because even though there was a hefty shortage of medical supplies, there was no shortage of food, water and blankets.

With a blanket in his hand, he walked to the entrance of the shelter and sank down into a small recess on the side of the steel door, this way he had a view of the women inside and could partly keep an eye on the outside.

His eyes slid over the women again, only to linger on Rane's face, which was twisted with anger. Immediately, his thoughts slipped from the old clan leader to Wende. How could such a bitch have produced such an amazing daughter?

Mohr'kad closed his eyes and immediately the heart-shaped face with the big eyes of his eyseah popped up in his mind and a tired smile appeared around his mouth. For a few seconds, the situation they were in and the pain that cut through his entire body was momentarily relegated to the background and he could almost feel and smell her.

"Ikat..."

Slowly, Mohr'kad opened his eyes and looked at Du'gan questioningly.

"I wasn't asleep kid, I just closed my eyes for a moment. What is it?"

With a thud, the young warrior lowered himself to the ground in a cross-legged position, in front of his Ikat. Du'gan's face was covered in blood, sweat and dirt, most of that blood was from his enemies whom he had managed to sneak up from behind several times and whose throats he had slit with a simple flick of his knife. But Mohr'kad also saw a sizeable gash running from his right temple to the bottom of his jaw. That would make a nice scar he thought to himself and grinned. While human men had not taken much notice of scars that would mar the face, the opposite was true of the Shri'Traccal, they were proud of every scar they got and Du'gan most certainly belonged to the latter category despite being a hybrid with many human external features. Inside, on the other hand, the lad was mostly very much like his father the infamous warrior Gh'ara an asshole of a guy, but nonetheless a formidable warlord.

"I know now isn't really the best time to ask... but.... How do you know if a woman... I mean how do you know if Yh'ghul nah seiy is involved?"

Mohr'kad's mouth almost fell open in amazement. Why did that fool think that this was the right moment to ask him this?

His look must have spoken volumes, because with a red face of embarrassment, Du'gan lowered his head.

"Du'gan..."

Shaking his head, he looked at the young warrior sitting in front of him. What was he supposed to do say?

"I'm sorry Ikat, I know I didn't pick the right time to ask this, but..." With a desperate gesture, he angrily let a fist smack down on his thigh.

"I have plenty of experience with women, it's not down to that, but Rianne... she, she... releases something in me that I don't know..." Frustrated, he looked up again.

To his surprise, Mohr'kad saw how anger and despair alternated in the young man's gaze.

"I don't want to end up like Gunnar!!! Aimless and useless with grief if something happens to her!"

The old warrior's eyes grew big with surprise at hearing Du'gan's words and again he shook his head, but this time it was in disbelief.

"Do you hear what you are saying boy? Do you realise what you are actually implying? Yh'ghul nah seiy does not make a man weak even at the death of a loved one! Your brother is not weak or useless! Implying this only shows incredible stupidity! If it were so, it would imply that both I, and your father and all other men with us would be weak..." Mohr'kad leaned his head forward and looked intently at the warrior before him with restrained anger.

"I speak for myself when I say that Yh'ghul nah seiy only makes me stronger, and I bet your father would have given you a hard slap in the head if he had heard this nonsense from the mouth of his eldest son!

Yh'ghul nah seiy just makes sure we have a cause to fight for! Namely protecting the most precious thing in your life!" nodding his head in the direction where the red-haired woman behind the entrance door had taken Mohr'kad's place a while ago.

"For her sake, I can only hope that she's not your eyséah! She deserves a strong fellow worthy of her love. Gunnar is not aimless or useless Du'gan, quite the contrary! On the contrary, in his grief he is bent on revenge, which is why we must ensure that in his grief he does not become careless and kill himself." With those words, he stood up stiffly and looked down coldly at the warrior still sitting on the ground.

"For you, I actually hope she is, though... Maybe then you'll learn that there is more to life than your own ego..."