Chapter 70

“Who are you?” Evanis asked the old woman kneeling before them.

“My name is Aishen Mashuren,” she answered. “I’m the Alsani of the Yorak.”

“And who told you we were coming?”

“I’m the Alsani; the spirits of our ancestors talk to me.”

Jabbit joined the interrogation. “The spirits of your ancestors told you my name is Urlan Kotar?”

“To the Yorak you are known as Urlan Kotar, the Lord of Crows,” Aishen Mashuren replied, keeping her eyes on the ground. “But the spirits of our ancestors speak in old tongues. They are difficult to understand for the meaning of their words often is shrouded. The spirits told me you were coming but they called you Enkormar, the Devourer.”

Evanis crossed her arms over her chest and looked at Jabbit.

“Don’t look at me,” he answered her reproachful gaze. “I warned you I’m hungry. Actually, I still am.”

Careful not to step on anyone, he made his way past the kneeling women toward one of the cushion bedsteads. He sat down and reached for the food close by but a young woman stopped him.

“No, my Lord,” she cried, jumping up and rushing after him. “Please, let me serve you. That’s what I’m here for.”

“You’re here to feed me?” He asked as she filled roasted meat on a plate.

“Yes, my Lord; that’s what we all are here for,” she answered as she added rice and vegetables to the meat on the plate.

“That’s very nice of you,” he said and smiled. “What’s your name?”

She returned his smile with downcast eyes. “My name is Zaya, my Lord,” she said as she handed him the platter.

Evanis watched the scene intently. Then her focus returned to Aishen Mashuren, who was still kneeling before her.

“The spirits told you the Devourer is coming and what did you do? You prepared a feast and rounded up a herd of sluts to make him feel welcome.”

Aishen Mashuren’s head shot up. “Sluts? These young women are our daughters and none of them has ever known the touch of a man.”

“Really? You could have fooled me,” Evanis said. “I just watched one of your pristine daughters perform. I was sure I saw a seasoned whore but maybe I was wrong and the women of the Yorak are simply naturals.”

“I doubt anyone could fool the daughter of a hundred whores,” Aishen Manshuren retorted. “Yes, I know who you are. Tell me, reborn Goddess of Wrath, are you still too proud to be a concubine?”

The ghost of a movement, a flash of iron, a hiss in the air and Aishen Manshuren’s severed head dropped to the ground. The head rolled two feet away from the body, then it lay still - face up, eyes open, staring blindly at the ceiling. It was raining blood on screaming women until the headless body dropped, too, and the blood pooled on the floor. Of course, that didn’t stop the screaming as the kneeling women rushed to get away from Evanis. Some jumped up and ran. Others scurried off on hands and knees. Some dashed for the exit and fled the tent. Others hid behind cushions and tables. A few women didn’t move all that much. They stayed where they were, kneeling on the floor, and only trembled a little.

Evanis, falcata in hand, ignored all the hubbub around her.

“What?” She asked, glaring at Jabbit.

He interrupted his dinner and regarded Evanis. “I didn’t say anything.”

“The old hag annoyed me.”

“Obviously.”

“Just patch her up if you want her back.”

“Do you want me to want her back?”

“You’re annoying too,” she huffed and stomped off.

Evanis left the tent and Jabbit resumed eating. Zaya, who had been hiding behind him, raised her head and looked over his shoulder.

“Is she gone?”

His mouth full of food, Jabbit nodded.

“She killed the Alsani,” Zaya stated.

Jabbit swallowed. “Her name is Evanis but her friends call her Eva. I call her Eva, too,” he provided. “Eva has some anger issues.”

“Anger issues?” Zaya gasped. “She beheaded the Alsani!”

“Serious anger issues,” he adjusted and took another bite of roasted meat.

“The Alsani said she ... I mean Evanis ... she’s the reborn Goddess of Wrath.”

Jabbit ate the last of his food and put down the empty plate. “The Alsani said a lot of things and then she lost her head.”

Zaya stared at him. “She was your servant but you didn’t protect her.”

“She served me but she needed to learn.”

“She served you all her life and now she’s dead!”

“Now she has learned whom she served.”

“What did she learn?” Zaya asked, getting louder. “You are Urlan Kotar, the cruelest of all gods. She already knew that. Every Yorak knows that.”

“Then the Yorak will need to learn, too.”

Zaya paled. “Forgive me, my Lord,” she said and bowed her head. “The death of the Alsani frightened me and I forgot my place.”

He smiled. “No need to apologize. I understand death can be frightening,” he said and then looked into her eyes. “But living can be scary, too.”

The screaming restarted as Aishen Mashuren’s headless corpse rose from the floor. She picked up her head and walked over to the cushion bedstead. Her head in her hands, she knelt before Jabbit. He took the head and put it back on her shoulders.

“Did you talk to the spirits?” He asked.

Aishen Mashuren clutched her neck with both hands and quickly bowed. “Yes, my Lord.”

“And could you understand them better, now that you were closer to them?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“What did they tell you?”

“They said you are the Devourer but you wear the cloak of a hare.”

Jabbit frowned. “I’m just hungry.”

“Do you want some fruits, my Lord?” Zaya intervened, handing him a bowl with fruits.

“And it was a rabbit, not a hare,” he said and grabbed a bunch of grapes.

The crescent of the moon was rising when Evanis left the tent. It had been set up in a secluded location at the eastern outskirts of the enormous camp, which suited her just fine since she wasn’t in the mood for company anymore. She walked even farther to the east but just as the fires of the camp vanished in the distance she encountered another campfire and tent in front of her. Luckily, no one was around the fire and the tent was small. Still, Evanis cursed herself as she approached. The solitary tent had piqued her curiosity. She looked inside and at first she thought the tent had been vacated but then she noticed the small figure huddling in a corner at the back.

“Who are you?” She asked.

“He can’t answer you; he’s mute.”

The response she got wasn’t coming from the midget cowering in the tent. Evanis spun around and was faced with a woman, a drawn bow, and an arrow aimed at her.

“And who are you?” Evanis asked.

“My Name is Quara,” the woman answered, “and the little boy in the tent is my son Tanju.”

“Well then, Quara, I’m Evanis Danjala and at the moment I’m not in the mood to kill someone, which is pretty rare, so you better lower your bow or the moment will pass.”

Quara frowned. “No woman of the Yorak is armed or wears armor. Where do you come from, Evanis Danjala?”

“No Yorak woman is armed? The taut bow in your hands tells me otherwise.”

“I was hunting,” Quara said. “I’m an outcast. No one provides for us and yet my son and I need to eat.”

“Do you plan to eat me?” Evanis asked. “If not, why are you still aiming at me?”

“Move away from the tent and I’ll lower my bow.”

“Fine,” Evanis said and sat down by the campfire.

Quara lowered her bow and went past Evanis to the tent. “Tanju, stay in the yurt until the woman is gone,” she called inside.

Evanis smirked. “I didn’t plan to eat you either.”

“Maybe not,” Quara said. “But you killed someone not long ago. There is blood all over you.”

“I killed a woman who annoyed me. Don’t make the same mistake.”

“So it’s true? You killed someone?” Quara asked, her voice rising. “They’ll search for you. You can’t stay here.”

“You think some Yorak warriors will come searching for me?” Evanis asked and lay down by the fire. “That’s the least of my worries.”

“That’s the least?” Quara asked, “What is it you really worry about?”

Evanis crossed her arms behind her head and stretched out. “Who are we?” She mused. “That’s the question I need answered. Who is he and who am I? Am I a demoness or am I the reborn Goddess of Wrath? Is there even a difference? And who is he? Is he Jabbit, my bunny-boy, or is he the Nameless Son of the Faceless God? Is he maybe Urlan Kotar, the Lord of Crows? Or were the spirits right and he is simply the Devourer? Friends, lovers, enemies. Who are we?”

“I don’t know who he is but you are a rambling nutcase.”

Evanis grinned. “That’s a good answer.”

Quara sat down by the fire. “Who was the woman you said you killed?”

“I think her name was Aishen Muchobitchu or something like that.”

Quara gaped at Evanis. “You killed Aishen Mashuren, the Alsani?”

“Yes, I remember she said she’s the Alsani. Did you know her?”

“Of course I knew the Alsani.”

“Did you like her?”

Quara grimaced. “She’s the reason I’m still alive.”

“Then I’m sorry I cut her head off but we argued and I got angry.”

“She’s also the reason I’ll be put to death.”

“Huh?” Evanis floundered. “You better start your story at the beginning.”

“Why would my story matter to you?” Quara asked.”

“I have time and I loathe thinking about my troubles,” Evanis replied. “Listening to your story will distract me of my own misery.”

“I hope you’ll enjoy. It might be the last tale of woe you’ll ever hear.” Quara said, then she gazed into the fire and told her story. “I was born as Quara Mailgur, which means Quara daughter of Ilgur. Ilgur, my father, was the Dobhas of a small clan in the unimportant province Nantaju at the northeastern border of Kurthanbar. Six years ago the Great Dobhan invited every clan leader to a celebration in honor of his first born son. Tselmeg had become fifteen and to prove his maturity he had to kill his first enemy at the celebration. I was fourteen at the time and accompanied my father. Tselmeg noticed me at the celebration and offered my father my bride price to take me as his concubine. My father was overjoyed, of course, and gladly accepted his proposal. Sadly, Tselmeg was killed by his enemy during the ceremonial battle but to honor his late son’s proposal, the Great Dobhan himself took me as his concubine. So I became Quara Bayshunken – Quara Concubine of Shunken.”

Evanis shook her head. “My mom is a whore and when I was a girl I worried she’d sell me but she never did. Now I think I was lucky my mom is a whore and not the leader of a Yorak clan.”

Quara shrugged. “Being the concubine of a great man is an honorable position. There are only a few great men but there are many women.”