Beginning of the End

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Karsh sat astride his horse, flanked on both sides by his clan.  The breath steamed from the mouth of his night black mount, to rise in clouds about his deeply scarred face.  A metal studded patch covered one eye and sat uneasily above open burns that still wept trails of watery fluid down the Peytahn leader's cheek.

Karsh surveyed the land around him with his one good eye.  Smoke trailed into the air and a thick blanket of grey ash covered what had been Kimlar.  The only building left standing was the inn.  The innkeep, Muldoon, stood beside the Inn of Kimlar with the handful of survivors from the village.  All about them was grey.

A horde of K'Vathin stood beyond the inn.  Dressed in colourful silks, over heavier cloth, they were a welter of colour in the desolation of the ruined landscape.  Yet, at their head, were eleven black cloaked figures of the Kula-Mar.  The dark forms were arranged in two lines, like a narrow arrow head, with the tallest of the Kula-Mar at its point.  It was the tallest of the hooded figures who moved forward and cast off its hood.

Karsh looked at the human.  Gaunt and ancient, with hollow eyes, the Kula-Mar looked more dead than alive.

'Karsh, you have done well.'  Even praise sounded hollow from the lips of such a man.

'Our land is destroyed and you call this well?'

'You have given us what we wanted.  You have served the Kula-Mar.  You will have your payment.'  The tall figure gestured to a gang of K'Vathin, who struggled forward with a large box.

Karsh spat on the ground.  'You give us spice when we need food?'

'You have what was agreed.'  Cold, and with no emotion, the voice croaked back to Karsh on the chill morning air.

'And you have a woman and girl that are ours.'  Karsh pointed to a wagon where Eylana and the girl Leyla huddled together in a wooden cage.

'I think you presume too much, Karsh.  We have what we want.  There is another matter to be dealt with, however... something you owe us.'  The cold morning air seemed to grow even more chill.

'The Peytahns owe the Kula-Mar nothing!'  Karsh bared his long teeth in anger.

'Take care, Karsh.  The Kula-Mar were once twelve, now you see that we are but eleven.  We hold the clan of Gamesh responsible for the death of our emissary, K'Emchek.  Gamesh and his clan are now beyond our care.  You will bring them to us.'

'Gamesh and his clan are no longer here.'

'You will deliver them to us.'  As the Kula-Mar leader spoke these words he struck his black wooden staff upon the ground.

'And if we do not care to give our kin up to the Kula-Mar?'

'Karsh, your land lays under ash, the fields will be barren.  How will your people live through the winter?  If you bring Gamesh to us, we will see that your people are fed.  Gamesh must be held to account for the death of one of the Kula-Mar.  The law must be upheld or we will return to the chaos of The End Times.'  The Kula-Mar leader now spoke with an even tone, as if his words made perfect sense.

'And so...the Peytahn clans are now to live on the scraps from the Kula-Mar table.  Do you think us no better than dogs?'  Karsh spat the words at the Kula-Mar.

'Think carefully Karsh, lest you cut the throats of your own people with those words from your mouth.'

'You are but eleven and a clutch of lizards and you stand on our land.'

'Tell me, Karsh, how will you fight the cold of winter and the hunger in your children's bellies?  We offer you life.'

'And you offer Gamesh death?  Kula-Mar, you are a curse on our people.  Be gone.  We will find our own way... as we always have.  And you will leave the woman and girl.'

'No.'  The Kula-Mar signalled with his hand and the wagon began to trundle down the road.

Karsh growled and spurred his horse forward.  That was the only signal that his people needed.  The Peytahns surged towards the Kula-Mar and the K'Vathin.  But, their charge was brought up short.  A clap of thunder rent the air and in an instant the Kula-Mar, the K'Vathin and the trundling wagon were gone.

Karsh's horse bucked and whinnied.  One of Karsh's clan rode up to him.

'What now, Karsh?'

'No Kula-Mar, no K'Vathin, no living thing will be safe.  Now we ride... and now we hunt!'

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