* * *
High in the oak, Troy watched. After the rhosynhorns attacked, the small men in the trees immediately dispatched Ssh’fah entering the forest. Troy’s stomach roiled at the horrible screaming of men and beasts
As the bloodcurdling screams of Ssh’fah and animals in the desert subsided, Ssh’fah poured into the forest faster than Taryn could shoot them. He saw them swing through the trees, releasing their arrows with precision. Every arrow found its mark. The Ssh’fah fell even before they knew of the danger lurking above.
As Taryn pulled back, the Lako, further back and hidden behind trees, sent a wall of arrows through the Ssh’fah. Thousands of dead or dying covered the forest floor beneath him and hundreds more of the bloody enemy charged over them without regard for their own.
Troy merged with the tree and cried, “Now!”
Limbs and branches fell from the trees. Bushes and vines whipped the Ssh’fah, tearing their skin to ribbons. Heavier timbers felled or crushed many. Within minutes, a wood and flesh dyke formed.
Silence. It was over.
No living Ssh’fah remained in the forest to retreat.
The trees hummed in satisfaction.
Asad’far & Kyla
Kyla’s captors prodded her forward, kicking her when she didn’t move fast enough. Her heart dropped in complete despair as they drove her towards a blood soaked Ssh’fah, whose clothing hung in shreds. She recoiled as his terrible snarl resonated from beneath a fur crown adorned with the horns of some wild animal.
When she reached him, his unholy mask of filth opened in laughter. He reached for the insignia on her uniform and shouted to his men. She understood enough of the language to realize he believed they had captured a prince.
Laughing Ssh’fah pressed in closer to her. The hissing glee became more frightening than the previous howling. Their odor was unbearable. The circle tightened and a hand reached toward her face. She panicked and swung her tied hands into his jaw.
She gained consciousness gradually and the pain became so intense, she attempted to move back into the blackness. When it failed, she struggled to analyze her situation. The ropes tying her hands looped through a band around the camel. Hanging over the hard saddle, increased the pain in her head, rivaling the agony of her bruised ribs. With the sun directly overhead, she felt her back searing. She tried to moisten her cracked lips, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.
* * *
Knowing her efforts were futile, it still seemed unreal when a Ssh’fah knocked her from the saddle. She tumbled to the sand and sprawled face down. Her head lifted and she blinked through the sand spraying from hooves and saw the boots of men dropping from the camels.
Spitting sand, Kyla struggled to get to her feet; but once on her knees, her back turned to molten heat. When she felt fire again, the tip of a whip curled around her neck and stung her cheek. Lashing after lashing continued as she curled around her body, buried her face in her arms, and concentrated on holding back screams.
When she began to lose consciousness, someone hauled her to her feet by the back of her tunic. She felt the shredded uniform tear away and moisture run down her back. A leering Ssh’fah grabbed the tunic and attempted to pull it off, while saying, “Let us match the front of this whimpering pustule to his backside.”
Kyla screamed and crossed her arms across her breasts. The men encircling her began to hiss in laughter. One said, “We must teach you not to run. Your father will pay a handsome price for the gift of your sorry life.” He looked to the man behind her and motioned. “Bin al Kalb, hold him upright.” He clutched the collar of her tunic, and ripped downward.
The cheering and cursing men fell silent. Naked from the waist up, Kyla stood with her hands protecting her breasts, tears streaming down her face. “By the holy eye of Sc’fada, it’s a woman!”
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