THE RED BANDS AND LADY HOSHO III
PART 1:
PART 2:
Back in the sea, Randal rose above the wave, riding a large black sea-horse. A purple saddle sat on its sloped back. Its tail was long, like a snake’s, and patterned as a python. It rode the wave, submerging and rising, moving steadily in the storm like a phantom in the night. When the heavens shimmered, it would submerge and when the thunder roared, it came up. When darkness settled, it covered a large distance, slithering along the surface of the sea. Randal’s eyes wandered in search of Lady Hosho. The mermen and water-born mercenaries dove to the depths but instantaneously, body parts popped on the surface, a hand there, a leg attached to an incomplete pelvis here, a half-eaten face further away. Panic broke out whilst some remained duty-orientated, or so it appeared.
Randal called a fortress about him. His guard circled him and some swam directly below him. Tokren, a light worker, formed a ball of undying fire and threw it into the water. The outline of something passed the light with the speed of a barracuda. As it disappeared into the darkness, the light gave way. Tokren gasped. A few paces away, a monstrosity of a creature splashed out of the water. Its neck had wine burgundy, heavily scaled frills that fanned out when it opened its pale-white mouth armed with two rows of hideously jagged teeth. Its head was as long as it was thick. The rest of its body was like a snake’s but heavily thick, with sharp-edged fins that spanned the whole body. Only thirty paces of it was above water.
Randal spoke, “You think you can take on these mighty men, even with an inferior magic?” His voice thundered and even the two sisters heard it.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — —
“Look,” one of the sisters said.
“Yes, I see the men on the shore. Mother said when she was about to annihilate her opponents, men dressed in long red robes would appear and hold these musical instruments. They call them hosho.” She explained because her sister had missed this part during the story-telling (she had been sleeping).
“The musical instruments have a round end and a stalk holding it. They say there are dry seeds inside. When they shake them, it sounds like a rattle-snake giving warning and Mother said courage would fill the hearts of her opponents. She didn’t like to kill trembling, fearful men. She wanted to show that even at their best, she was an unstoppable force regardless.”
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
“Chekah, clear the heavens,” Randal shouted.
He cursed under his breath wishing the control of weather wasn’t only for a General. The skies cleared, the sun broke through the clouds and all was in plain view. The intestines floating, the stench of faecal matter they held, the exposed milk-white joints and tendons, and the crimson bone-marrow bubbling.
“The inferior magic that killed your pathetic father and her infertile wife,” Lady Hosho responded.
Her skin was bronze and in some parts it was laden with burgundy scales. Her eyes were yellow and radiated a light that left a trail of yellow wherever she had been as if marking her movement.
The rattle of the hosho started. The adrenaline of the men of Randal’s army spiked and their weapons held a new beauty that they even started to admire. Some worked fire into their hands, others ice. Some grew larger and beast-men breathed fumes of fury.
As the word ‘attack’ was still on Randal’s lips, the men charged at her. It was like a swarm, a black murder of crows moving in one accord. The men dispersed, holding swords, weapons like pitch forks, spears, clubs and all were raised against her. Some swam, other walked on the water and still others rode smaller sea-horses. Lady Hosho snarled and slid to them upon her beast, knocking them off balance with her burgundy beast. A field existed around her and her beast where anything coming with force was repelled. The weapons bounced off and sank into the flesh of their owners, spurling blood into the sea. Some tried hugging to strangle the beast but they were immediately tossed into the air as a secretary bird tosses a snake up and about. They shrieked and screamed.
An arrow got through all the madness and pierced the frill of her beast. Lady Hosho looked and it was Randal holding the bow.
The women of distraction must have advanced him somehow, she thought.
“Enough!” she shouted. They went still and obeyed as if cast under a spell.
“Now, I offer you a chance to flee, this battle is for Randal, not you. I am an old lady now. I just want to be left alone and live out my last days and rest. If I’d been younger, I would have killed you all by now. Age has changed my perspective. Don’t force my hand. You have families to go to. I have no-one except those two who can survive even without me after I annihilate you scum.”
She stared steadily and just three left.
‘What a shame, all that voice for what?’ she thought to herself.
But before the three could get at least twenty paces away, they dropped into the sea with arrows in their backs.
Randal spoke, “The words of a losing woman. See! I have pierced her beast, now she fears and tries to stall an inevitable end. Once she is dealt with, Mer-Kingdom is ours and your families’, daughters’, wives’, sons’, for future generations. With her out of the way, no force can stop us and my father will be avenged. We will drink to those lost this day and bury them properly.”
“You have made your beds and you shall lay in them. May the sea acknowledge that these men were slain of their own accord.”
The men advanced again with more determination than before. Lady Hosho breathed in and felt her weaving magic gather in her chest. It felt like a ball of fire.
She weaved time, an ancient and dangerous weave. Her heart slowed and the frame of each second was much more tangible and spread out. She and Imbwa-mupengo, her burgundy beast, moved among the mermen and mercenaries, sword in her hand. Imbwa-mupengo displayed her frill and it changed colour like a chameleon. The place the arrow had penetrated had healed already. They moved from merman to mercenary, who all appeared frozen. She cut the throats of most, hurling sword in endless arcs and turns. Imbwa-mupengo chewed heads off and the sharp edges of her frills and fins opened their guts letting out the contents very slowly into the sea. The smell of death overcame the smell of salt. First the blood trickled, then the appearance of a spray, then the real spray, all in slow motion. The more she stayed under the frames, the older she got. Her skin flaked and wrinkled, her joints ached more and youth returned to the sisters on the hill.
Too long and she would die.
When her likeness reached the one of her current age, she stopped the pause and entered the natural fluid motion of time. Everything then resumed. The men dropped, blood gushed out, intestines spilled, heads dropped. She was now before Randal who she hadn’t touched and saved for last. Imbwa-mupengo was old too but as she opened her pale mouth and roared, advancing for Randall’s head, he shot arrows into its eyes and it dropped, Lady Hosho with it.
Randal gloated over her and remarked, “Was it worth it? Another army can always be bought.”
He kicked her hard and she tumbled. She held on to Imbwa-mupengo who slowly faded as her magic had been spent. Randal took her by the neck and squeezed it. The old lady chocked, kicking and flailing but to no avail. The world dimmed but in her final conscious intake of breath, she saw two figures advancing, one floating on fire in the air, the other on water. She felt the grip loosen then the world grew black.
Then she remembered her chest being hammered, gasping for air and once more feeling the familiar sand under her. Vobos and Jekren stood over her, smiling.
“Thank you,” they said, eyes reddened and they moved to hugged her but stopped when she winced. She listened to her heart beat and knew she didn’t have long.
She spoke in a gentle voice, “The tonic, I didn’t tell you, was my death. Your mother told me this day might come. I wanted to be sure you weren’t tricking me before I took it, hence I waited until I saw the enemy. She knew I never wanted to die defenseless and a coward. At least you have a whole life ahead of you.”
She coughed and held out her hand and stroked their cheeks. She couldn’t make out their faces but she made an effort to smile and croaked, “Jekren, clean your spit from my floor when you get back to the house.” She laughed and it came out hoarsy, rather raspy as if she were a man.
She gave her last and rested.
