8. False Guide

Prebuha thought she understood. The commander had found the debris from the fleet she destroyed earlier and didn’t dare sail on. They were now discussing if they had to visit the Indus as refugees … or as an army.

She had only one goal herself: stay alive, step by step, make yourself useful to the group. As they ran from the terrifying Akradi, she had lost any desire for war or violence. The idea that conquering another city to get all their food, instead of working for it yourself, seemed silly now.

Mamotas accompanied her, as always. He smuggled food for her, but that also stopped when all food had run out. The wheat and barley fields of Indus weren’t far now. She could—

No, she was not a thief. No jangling bones or rumbling bellies would change that.

The thumping and screaming of the Akradi kept chasing them, always one step closer. All in all their group was only a thousand tired creatures. Why were they important? Why waste time following them?

She tried signing this to Mamotas, by imitating their masks and thumping.

He smiled and joined in. He made scary faces and made himself large. “Yes, the Akradi are true monsters, they say. It’s a good thing I found you, not them.”

“But why?” They had decided on a sign for questions like “why” and “how” by now.

“Their City God is Ardex. The jaguars believe they always have to wage war, or the world ends. They won’t stop, not even if their only victory is against a single bunny.”

Jaguars. Of course. She realized now what Megitas meant in their conversation long ago. The Akradi fought everyone, yes. But they especially wanted revenge against Asha for something long ago, some injustice they were still mad about. Maybe all these conquered cities were just preparation for how they’d destroy Indus.

Mamotas did some more imitations, such as an Akradi throwing a spear and one angrily crushing a stone.

She didn’t laugh with him. She wasn’t just leading these Sumiseri to Indus—which was bad enough, given their commander. She was also leading the Akradi right there.

Her steps slowed, smaller and smaller each time. Mamotas yelled that they had to pause again, for her health. The bull rejected the very idea.

He took the lead and marched them all in the last direction Prebuha indicated.

She had to watch with dismay. What could she do? A few days of walking and they’d find the city themselves. They’d attack and win, for the Indus refused to have weapons, and the Akradi would then slaughter them all in their revenge.

What could she do? They all marched past her. She was left in the sandy dust, joined by a confused Mamotas.

Oh, how easily she jumped from group to group. The Indus exiled her? he’d look for Akradi. She couldn’t find them? She’d help the Sumiseri destroy her own civilization.

That’s not how it worked. Of course not! If she ever wanted to belong—if she ever wanted to be safe and protected—she had to be loyal to a group. If life was hard, she had to work harder for the group, not walk away. If a thief stole something, she’d have to stop the thief too. Only then other creatures would do the same for her.

And if she listened to her heart, there was only one group to which she belonged: the Indus.

She waved her long arms and yelled: “No! Sorry! I made a mistake! We’re going the wrong way!”

On all fours she ran forward. “The Indus have the strongest weapons ever! They’ll destroy us before we even get close, as they did to the fleet!”

She tried imitating swords and bows, with which she pretended to kill Mamotas. She yelled deafeningly loud and pointed in an entirely different direction. Her civilization had so much area, the only way to walk around them was to completely leave the Garda continent.

“Bull!” the bull said. “They’re a peaceful folk. And they live along the river, that we know for sure.”

The others watched her with narrowed eyes.

“I mean it!” She kept pointing the other way. “I … we … we can communicate with our thoughts, yes. And they just told me that you are not welcome!”

Well, she tried communicating that with gestures, and found no success.

The group bumped into each other, for half of them wanted to march onward, and the other half wanted to listen.

Mamotas looked sad. He didn’t understand what she said, but knew her intentions. In his eyes she saw the beautiful Indus walls and the Clayskipper inventions that Mamotas would have loved to see.

“Prebuha has explained it all to me,” he said softly. “She said she hadn’t expected you to actually follow. She was too weak and not in her right mind—but now she is sharp. The Indus is deadly dangerous. All will be dead once we see their walls. We walk away.”

The bull growled and dug a hole on the spot. “We can conquer anyone!”

“A civilization that’s a thousand times older than us and never conquered?”

More and more creatures turned to walk in the new direction, away from Indus, but also still away from Akradi. The bull kept growling, but a commander without army was worthless, so he ended up following too.

Prebuha smiled at him and gently squeezed his paw as thanks. Maybe not all Sumiseri were terrible violent beings.

They hung at the back of the group. Prebuha pretended her body was still too weak and walked with minuscule steps.

Until the group disappeared behind the next hill and only the two of them were left.

They looked at each other.

They smiled and ran in the right direction together.

“Oh, oh, is it really as pretty as I think?” Mamotas said while running.

Prebuha nodded enthusiastically, mostly because he was enthusiastic. She hoped that somebody had paid attention and seen how she had diverted the enemy. Or maybe Mamotas could deliver proof.

They ran for days. As if exhaustion was suddenly a myth. As if food wasn’t necessary. Until they ran into the harvest fields by night and reached the outer city walls.

Mamotas’ eyes permanently gazed upwards, at the tall buildings, flags, and fires within the city. In his pupils, they sparkled like stars.

“Those buildings! They make our attempts seem like prehistoric caves. Our homes wash away with each flood, but this …”

“Well, there is still the issue of … well … me being exiled.” She had also invented their symbol for danger or problem or watch out! with the Sumiseri.

“That,” a furious voice behind her roared, “is not your only problem. Filthy, filthy traitors.”

The commander stood before them, panting. The bull was decked out in full metal armor, with ten weapons and a helmet enhancing his terrifying horns.

“You really thought I wouldn’t notice?”

Prebuha looked at Mamotas. He translated in word and gesture. “He is very impressed by how fast we can run.”

“Send thousands of Sumiseri to their death, then walk back to safety yourself!?”

“He compliments your fur. It’s healing nicely from the wounds,” Mamotas said.

“But you made a mistake. You showed me the truth about your undefended city. We shall take the Indus and burn you all!”

The bull roared and suddenly leapt forward. Prebuha heard yelling from above. A few cats walked over the city walls.

“Is he alone?” Prebuha asked as she stumbled backward and started climbing the wall.

“Erm, yes, yes. What … what?”

The bull grabbed her hind leg. Mamotas, as Gosti, was a better climber and already ahead of her. He dropped himself onto the bull to force him to let go, but in doing so threw all three of them back to the floor.

They hit the ground hard and splashed like droplets in different directions.

“He’s the commander of Sumiser,” Prebuha yelled as she climbed back to her feet. “If he gets away, we’re finished!”

The bull realized now too. He didn’t have to win this fight. He could run away and get his army, to win the war.

The cats jumped from the walls, perfectly landing on their paws, and blocked his path. One swing with the horns, however, and all their feline faces found the dirt.

Prebuha remembered loose bricks in the wall. She blindly reached behind her, ripped one loose, and rushed towards the bull.

Maybe it was egoism. Maybe it was a true, deep hatred against Prebuha and what she’d done. Or maybe the Sumiseri were simply stupid.

But he stopped and turned around, ready to prick his horns through her exposed belly.

She hit him in the face with the clay brick.

His eyes shut; his limp body dropped before her.

“Oh. Oh gods. Oh—”

Her vision grew blurry. Her paws lifelessly fell to the floor. The clay brick landed on her own toes. What had she done? She was worse than a thief—she was a murderer.

She hobbled away, away from here, away from everything. But Mamotas and the cats caught up and sent her the other way, back to the Indus gates.

Where she was admitted and cheered on.