The Lost Tribe: Maliha the Wanderer (Book 1)

Flames

                   

"Yah Kri," shouted Ujarak. Motioning for the guards to bring Tanzim towards the root of the Great Tree.

She struggled, legs kicking and body jerking as she tried to pull away, fighting the guards with every breath in her body but it was pointless because she was no match for them.
They dragged the woman kicking and screaming before dumping her at the feet of Ujarak. She tried to climb to her feet but one guard placed his foot on her back, keeping her subdued on the floor.

"Please Ujarak, please." She sobbed, her face blotchy as she begged him with no shame.

Her words melded into their native tongue, a language that Maliha still could not fully understand. She picked up small words like éruhu, which meant love or the word rahi which meant give. Tanzim was clearly begging for Ujarak to give her another chance, to give her his love but Ujarak was unbending. He was like his namesake, a rock. Stone carved into the sharpest and toughest statue. He was cold.

"T'la," he snapped. Shaking her fingers from his legs as he commanded her to stop but she wouldn't.

She had no shame. Snot dripped down her chin as she humiliated herself in front of the tribe and Maliha could do nothing but stand on and watch in pity.

Ujarak howled some other commands, The Ishanu rippling as the women and men he commanded began bringing items to the root of the Great Tree. Amongst those things was a long metal stick that made Maliha's flesh ripple in repulsion.

She remembered that pole, remembered how the hot metal poker had seared into her skin and burnt her flesh with a sizzling pop. She could still remember the smell of her own charred flesh. Did they mean to?

"Ishah, m'tahar zi ashran em géh." Commanded Ujarak and at his words the adults began gathering their children and exiting the Ishanu.

Nahi tried to remain but Abazz encouraged her to leave so that she could feed the children and put them down for a nap. Her reluctance dwindled when she realised that as much as she wanted to stay, she also had two babies who were only a few days old.

"Take your grandmother with you, she doesn't need to witness this." Muttered Abazz, motioning to the side of the Great Tree where some elderly tribe members lingered.

"Maliha can you-"

"Of course," she mumbled taking Namali from Abazz and rocking the baby in her arms as he headed off towards Ujarak and the procession of people bringing tools and plants.

Now that everyone with children had left, the Ishanu seemed to be that much more spacious. The buds were still not blooming in bright colours but Maliha could feel their energy.

Her feet padded against the curled leaves as she trailed behind Nahi, smiling down at Namali. The girl was beautiful, even in those early days where babies were mostly wrinkles and discoloured skin, Namali was pretty. Her pale eyes shining with an amber hue that hinted to her inheriting her father's Hazel orbs. Her ears were a dark cocoa brown, but her skin was still that blotchy pink. She had thick black hair that clung to her head in waves. Her little lips were permanently puckered in a sour look, as if she had no liking for this new loud world.

"Umahti." Nahi greeted, her steps cautious as she approached.

Maliha's head jerked up as she noted that Nahi had stopped before someone, and then her eyes were bulging wide as her mind slowly began to register the relation. Maliha shouldn't be surprised, the first time she had seen her she had thought she was the image of Nahi. Yet she was.

"Hello daughter." Hafiza smiled sadly, looking down at Kanu who was nestled comfortably along Nahi's chest in a colourful sling.

"Abazz has asked you to help me bathe the little ones as both he and Maliha must stay here."