Sundered Moon by Ahmer Zammar

Author:Ahmer, Zammar
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-07-17T00:00:00+00:00

Timbers heaved as the ship crested over a dune. Sand sifted past the hull, swirled through the swollen sails, and coated the deck in shifting grains. Maisades peered through the brown veil with red, watery eyes. His hair was coarse with the stuff, his clothes stiff. He couldn’t hear himself think over the constant cacophony of moving grains and rushing wind.

“Trees!” someone called. Followers scrambled about the deck to get a look.

Maisades scratched his stump. Through the shimmering sunshield, he could just make out the distant forest speckled red and orange. A vast swathe of trees had been cleared right by the desert, around the space the suntouched had once lived in. Smoke billowed out of the three huts. Surrounding them, the field was cluttered with tents. Ant-like figures moved between them, sunlight glinting off the steel in their hands. Many were clumping together at the border between desert and forest, waving and pointing at the incoming ships.

Banners billowed amidst the gathered army – a black backdrop with a golden sun in the center. Tyor had outdone himself. There were far more men than Maisades had expected. Well over a thousand.

Izelle stood cross-armed at the ship’s bow, wearing a gilded white dress that left her midriff exposed. Fire burned in her golden eyes as she stared at Tyor’s army.

Maisades’ heart quickened at the sight of her. And not in a good way. It was hard to tear his eyes free, hard to stop the trembling in his fingers. But he had to. He could not let her control him like this.

Isha walked towards him. Her arms were stretched to the sides, but she still stumbled at the raucous movement of the ship. He grabbed her wrist before she fell.

“Mister Maisa!” She beamed up at him.

“Isha, what are you doing here? Go back inside with the others.”

“I heard them saying we’re almost at the forest! Is it true?”

“It is, we’re almost home.”

“I wanna see!” She stretched to her tiptoes but was too short to see over the ship’s railing.

“Here.” Maisades squatted down, and she climbed onto his shoulders. She gasped when he stood.

“Who are all those people?”

“They’re our friends.”

“Friends?” There was uncertainty in her voice. “Will they help us find a new home?”

“They will.”

“Where will we go, Mister Maisa?”

“Somewhere we can eat real bread.” He grinned up at her, but her smile had faded.

“I liked Mpaka…”

Her uncertainty sent his mind racing, but he could think of nothing to say that would put her at ease.

“Nutesh says we’ll be fighting,” she said. “He said we have to kill the king. He said the king murders babies, and we’re going to fight and kill him. Is that true, Mister Maisa?”

Maisades faltered. She pounced at his hesitation. “So it is true!”

“What did your Ama tell you?”

“Ama?” Isha puffed her cheeks defiantly. “She doesn’t talk to us anymore. She just mopes about with the babies. Gopi and I tried asking her, but she started crying. Then she hugged us, and it took ages to get away.

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