5. Trader of Masks

Prebuha sat in Larsh’ room, at the twelfth floor of the prettiest building in their Region. She was being prepared for her trade with the incoming Sumiseri fleet. After complaining for a while, her mother was allowed in the room too. Well, now she knew who gave her that ability to stubbornly get her way if she wanted.

“We have no idea why Sumiser suddenly charges at us with an entire fleet,” Larsh said. “I have no time to travel to all the other Regions and ask if they have a better plan. Maybe they’re doing the same thing right now. So, gods help us all, we send you to finish your trade with them.”

“A wise choice,” mother instantly stated. “She will not disappoint.”

Larsh sniffled. “And has your daughter already unmasked the murderer of my father?”

“He …” Prebuha swallowed and looked away. “He really seems to have fallen accidentally, Larsh.”

He stormed from the room. “Get ready, lazybones! You should’ve been on that ship already!”

She grabbed the final Bulla and ran after him—but mother blocked her path. She placed the actual final Bulla in her claws, one showing a ship and a clear cross through it. That’s what the trade would be about: what would it cost to have all Sumiser ships turn around and leave?

“Those ships cannot anchor, dear. Fight like a hyena.”

Prebuha was stiff from the tension. “Why are you doing this, mom? I’m a bad trader, everyone knows it. And I hate it.”

“Because you have to do something, dear. Something to be worth your food and shelter, because I won’t be around forever.”

“Who invented those rules!? I don’t want to do something!” She felt like throwing the Bulla across the room, while simultaneously lacking the energy to even take a step.

Mother sighted and mumbled. “It’s not about you. Or our Region. I had hoped you could save our family’s honor.”

That froze her, like every time somebody referred to her father—“the thief”. Which happened often, for everyone whispered when she walked past and probably assumed she’d be a thief too. Mother always told her that father walked away one day because of that. To escape the whispers.

Only now she saw the flimsiness of that excuse.

“Father didn’t walk away, did he?” she whispered.

Larsh’ voice commanded them to hurry again, now at a distance. Mother still blocked the doorway and put a large claw on her daughter’s shoulder.

“No.”

“Did they … lock him up somewhere? For stealing one little thing?”

“It wasn’t one little thing, dear. Your father refused to work. And the members of Asha refused to force him to work with violence. So he stole all our food … then fled to the next Region before he was caught. Regions sometimes barely talk to each other—but the legend of the stealing sloth was infamous! We used to live right in the center of our capital city Harap, but had to flee more and more to the edges.”

Mother hesitated, then hugged her. “Until he went too far. Stole a basket of nuts, but bystanders were aware of his tactics. As soon as a merchant yelled he was robbed, they formed a wall and attacked him all at once.”

Together they walked down the stairs, to the sunny plaza outside. Other inhabitants pointed the way to the ship, almost like a guard of honor, but kept their considerable distance.

Mother and daughter cried together. “Those bystanders killed your father where he stood.”

No wonder Prebuha hated the region since she was young. She’d pushed away the memory, but the feeling of injustice and hostility remained. She did not want to work for these creatures.

But now she stood next to a ship, all eyes on her, and mother had given her this opportunity with great, great effort.

“What did you have to give, mom?” she whispered. “What did you trade to give me this chance?”

Mother shook her head and gave her a last kiss. “No need to know. That’s my protection for you.”

The ship left.

A hotchpotch of supplies had been placed everywhere and nowhere. Another squad of wolves helped carry it all and steer the boat. Larsh ran over the beach to meet the leader of another Region for a panicked conversation. Megitas and the Clayskipper stood near the hut where they stored Welpon’s weapons. Did they consider using them? Finally a wise choice?

She didn’t know. All creatures quickly turned into black dots on the horizon. Until her city was gone from view entirely and she crested the waves alone.

Her head tumbled. Her own folk, the Region in which she lived her entire life, had killed her dad. Her mother gave away everything just to make the rest like their family again. And now she had to convince Sumiseri, with whom she couldn’t talk, to spare all of them?

She’d have found it funny if she still had the energy to laugh.

The imposing row of Sumiser ships loomed on the horizon. No, it wasn’t a neat row. They all sailed at different speeds and in different directions. One jabbed her bow into the beach and remained stuck. Pff. Worthless sailors they were.

She drew closer and read the symbols on their sails. She compared it with the signature on the blue Bulla again, and yes, these were the same traders. It calmed her somewhat, but not much.

Only once they were already close enough to yell at each other, did she notice something obvious. She hadn’t seen a single living creature.

All ships were empty. They sailed every which way because nobody was steering.

What was this?

The wolves looked at her, claws firmly on a horizontal steering wheel they could turn by walking.

“We sail on.”

They pierced through the front row. The speed of her ship, and the waves that erupted from it, neatly pushed all boats aside. They continued this way until they reached the heart of the fleet.

But wherever she looked, however loud she yelled, there was nobody.

Were they hidden below deck? Was it a trap? She didn’t understand.

But if nobody steered the ships, she wouldn’t be able to turn them all around.

She could not fail again! Think. Darkness already settled in. The first ships would soon come dangerously close to their peaceful harbor.

Destroy all the boats? No, no, because they had no weapons on this ship. Stupid Asha!

She had reached the backside of the fleet now.

“Turn around. Find any sign of life.”

“There is nobody, Prebuha.”

“Then what could it be!?”

The wolves scratched behind their tall ears. “Beats us too.”

There! On the shore, in the distance, a group of creatures stood. Prebuha immediately went to them.

It was a confusing mix of animals, as was usual for the Sumiser. Nearby, a shipwreck seemed to have collided with the beach with some force. Was it an accident? Had everyone left the ships for safety?

But why would they come with their entire fleet in the first place?

Prebuha docked and jumped off her ship. Her claws pushed deep into soft earth, while wolves already carried some goods to prove what they had.

Then she looked up and saw that all creatures wore masks.

A bull stepped forward. His mask was a deep black with bright red stripes. The tusks of a great beast completed the picture—and she barely dared look at it.

He spoke in a language she still didn’t understand.

She gestured her lack of knowledge and presented the Bulla. She’d start simple. Safe. Ask for some food, metal, and of course remove the ships please.

The mask of the bull masked his opinions of the act. Did he not understand?

She pointed at the boat with the cross and then back to the boats on the water. Even though they were barely visible at night.

The bull laughed. He spoke again, loudly. Prebuha gestured again that she didn’t understand—oh, it wasn’t meant for her.

All the creatures behind him—mostly jaguars—suddenly drew their weapons. Her heart stopped. The wolves stepped in front of her for protection.

They pointed their weapons up. Arrows and stone balls flew through the air, to blast through a ship on the river. Most were built so carelessly that they instantly sank.

Until the bull yelled again and it all stopped.

“Go on! Go on!”

He pointed along the Indus. Their first city was barely visible from here, as they stood on a hill and fires burned in their homes. Though it looked more like a small fishing village from here.

“Me … lu … han?” he asked.

Wasn’t that how the Sumiseri called them? She wasn’t sure how to react, so she just vaguely nodded.

His body posture switched to an aggressive one, and she imagined his face growing just as angry underneath the mask.

Then he grabbed a Bulla out of her basket. The one with the sword.

What was his question? Which answer meant he continued destroying the ships?

“No, I have no weapons.” She patted the symbol and shook her head. Her hairs stood up, her mind racing. If these masked beings were hostile, she’d be dead already.

“No … weapons?” the Bull said in imitation, as he held an arrow in his claws.

She nodded.

Of course the Indus had weapons, dear reader. Spears to catch fish. Knives to cut meat. They simply called it tools and didn’t use it for anything else. They had no large weapons of mass destruction. The Indus wanted peace—but they were not stupid.

The masked group laughed even harder, the jaguars flashing their teeth. They continued destroying the boats, with increased enthusiasm, until they had all sunk.

Then they stole Prebuha’s supplies and ran away.

“Hey! Come back! Come—”

“Look,” a wolf said, “something tells me this wasn’t Sumiser.”

“Shut up.”

Prebuha waggled back to her ship, already inventing ways to explain this all to Larsh.