CHAPTER 4 : LAST OF THE AKKADIANS
"My day has been too long. In the morning I saw the sons of Unamis happy and strong;
and yet, before the night has come, I have lived to see the last warrior of the wise race of the Mohicans."
-James Fenimore Cooper, The Last of the Mohicans
His eyes widened when I turned to him. Mathayus paused, surprised. I could not blame him. After all he had been sent to kill a man, not a women. This had to be the last thing he had expected.
I studied him, looking at him up and down. After seeing him in so many of my visions, I couldn't help but feel a child-like curiosity towards the man before me.
His copper colored skin, was made a warm bronze by the candle-light, his long dark hair fell down his back, a few strands of it braided in the warrior braids of his people. His dark eyes were piercing, his face bore feature similar to that of a carved statue. His muscles exposed. Even dressed in a leather cuirass and leather breeches he seemed as if he were like some sort of lost god in this hellish desert.
Then suddenly, Mathayus closed his eyes, and shook his head. He looked as if he where trying to get hold of himself.
I then used my power to gently push into his mind.
I found pain. Just earlier he saw his two brothers slain like cattle as they had tried to infiltrate Memnon's camp, but he still went on determined to get his job done. Then I found what I was looking for. What he was thinking about seeing a women dressed in royal garb in the tent of the "man" he had come to kill.
This is sorcery, He had thought. After all, I was hired to kill a sorcerer. Sorcerer's can cast illusions, change their appearance to the eye. I have seen it before.
Mathayus aimed his arrow to my heart.
I stepped towards him.
"I am Cassandra," I said, introducing myself.
My jewelry tinkled like a fountain when I stepped foreword.
Once again, Mathayus aimed the arrow at my heart.
I stopped, and slowly eased into his mind. My message for him and him alone.
"You've been betrayed, Mathayus," I spoke into his mind.
Mathayus squeezed his eyes shut. Now it was obvious to him that I was no illusion, and I was the sorcerer he had come to kill.
The sorceress he had come to kill.
Then Mathayus opened his eyes, he slighted down that arrow before he spoke.
"You know my name?" He asked me, his voice deep.
For some strange reason, I felt my heart quicken it's, already fast, pace at the sound of his voice, and a strange warm feeling had suddenly washed over me, like stepping into a hot bath. Ignoring this feeling, I nodded to him and answered his message.
"And why you're here…" I told him in his mind.
But I did not want it to end just yet, I wished to see if he was stronger than the other men I had used this enchantment on.
"But I am afraid you will not find me so easily slain."
It was then I casted the spell. Giving him a sensation that time was slowing, even as I could feel thoughts in his mind race.
"So kill me," I said aloud this time. "If you can."
I looked at Mathayus, letting my eyes fall deep within his.
My mother had once told me that the eyes are the windows to one's soul. I wished to see the soul of the man before me. I could tell my spell was making him feel weak.
Whether or not he would let fly the bowstring into my heart was in his hands.
If he did, well, let it be known that I did not fear death. In my heart I knew it was kind, merciful compared to what I have been forced to do to many.
Time seemed to be frozen for those moments.
Leaving me, standing there at the mercy of Mathayus and his bow and arrow. Mathayus, the feared Akkadian assassin, who seemed to be at a loss of what to do now that his victim was the last thing he would expect.
He had never killed a women before.
Would I be his first?
Suddenly he let go the bowstring.
I could almost feel the arrow as it let fly…
…Just past me to the guard who had crept up behind me and hit him in the chest.
The arrow took him out of his life instantly, he fell dead to the ground.
I turned to look at Mathayus.
He was knocking another arrow, alert, himself now.
I took a sad sigh.
Deep down I was hoping he would be merciful and take my life, but now I knew it could not happen.
"I am sorry Akkadian," I told him, meaning my every word. "You lost your chance."
It was then another guard appeared. Mathayus threw down the bow and took up the scimitar and the iron kama that I had seen him with in several of my vision.
The guard swung at his head. Mathayus, quickly blocked the blow with his scimitar, and swung the kama at his stomach. There was a sound of cold metal interring flesh, and Mathayus shoved him to the floor.
Suddenly another appeared behind him, Mathayus traded a quick set of blows. Then suddenly gave the man a quick, deep slash across the chest. Mathayus elbowed him to the ground.
He turned around to see two other warriors appear, swinging their swords at the Akkadian. In an impressive display of skill, Mathayus swung around.
In a flash of steel, the two men dropped. One dead, one wounded.
I was chilled when he turned to the last one, the expression on his face ice-cold and emotionless. Swinging the scimitar so it's point faced the ground, then he sent the blade crashing down.
Mathayus yanked the blade out of the guard, and turned to me.
I knew I must of looked astonished since could not hide my surprise.
I had heard of Mathayus' skill, but to see it with my own eyes…
…His skill had taken my breath away and shocked me how easily he could take the life of five of Memnon's best guards. Despite the fact I detested bloodshed, I couldn't help but be mesmerized by him. By his grace, speed, and strength.
Suddenly, dozens of Memnon's Red Turbaned men appeared in my tent, and they swarmed Mathayus like insects to honey.
Mathayus did his best to try to hold them off. Fighting them with the ferocity of an angry lion. But their numbers where about to overwhelm him.
Suddenly, Thorak came running at him, a three pronged trident in his hands. He thrusted the three points at the Akkadian's neck, pinning him to the central post of my tent.
Quickly I went into his mind.
"I am sorry, Akkadian," I spoke in his mind, meaning those every words.
I had never wanted him to be found, and now perhaps I would never be saved.
"I am sorry."
The soldiers around the Akkadian parted to show "My" Lord.
Mathayus obviously knew who he was the second his dark eyes laid upon him. The man who had entered dressed in golden chain mail and black battle leathers with a cruel look forever in his eye could only be one person.
Memnon, the Great Teacher himself.
He looked at Mathayus, a look of slight surprise on his face.
"A living, breathing Akkadian," He said, appraising the pinned warrior before him. "Well, this is a rare pleasure."
He stepped close to Mathayus, his cruel eyes locked on to that of the Akkadian's.
"I hear that you kind trains it's warriors to bear, great pain," Memnon said quietly. "You must teach me this…If you live long enough."
In a boldness that none had dared, Mathayus spat bitterly in Memnon's face.
Memnon then gave the assassin a sharp backhand across the jaw, a blow that sent blood splattering the tent wall behind them.
"So you do bleed like any other man," Memnon pointed out.
Mathayus gave a bloody snarl, like a hungry dog just denied it's meal. At once several members of the Red Guard ran to Mathayus' side, tying his arms and neck back to the center post. Once they had bound him successfully, Thorak removed the trident.
Mathayus meanwhile was giving Memnon a look of pure contempt. Then a all too familiar voice spoke.
"What? No more daring words from the assassin? Not so full of yourself are you now?"
Mathayus and I turned to see Takmet, the son of King Pheron step into the tent, a leather sack in his right hand.
Mathayus at first glanced at me (perhaps surprised that my prediction came true), before he turned to the traitor.
"You?" He said surprised, his eyes wide at what he was seeing. "You are our betrayer?"
Takmet gave an amused smile at this, and a sarcastic bow.
Mathayus gave him a cold look.
"You would betray your own father? Your own people?" He asked, a disgusted growing look on his face.
Takmet just shrugged his shoulders.
"My father, was a fool," Takmet replied. "He deserved no better from me for treating me like a child."
Takmet turned to Memnon, untying the leather sack he held in his hand.
"He was very shocked when I told him that I planned to join your campaign," Takmet informed Memnon, reaching in to the sack. "You could tell from the look on his face…"
And from the sack, Takmet pulled out the head of his own father. The surprised look on the face of the late King of Ur evident.
Mathayus scowled, sickened at what he saw. I turned away, more repulsed that someone would fall that low then at the sight of a dead man's head (I had seen far worse then that). The Red Guard, and even Thorak wore frowns on their faces.
I glanced to Memnon. Unlike the men here, he was not disgusted. In fact he seemed amused at the sick display before him.
It only shows that evil knows evil.
"By my father's head," Takmet said formally, brandishing the head of King Pheron in a sick ceremony, before tossing it to Memnon's feet. "I pledge my allegiance!"
Memnon nodded, that amused smile still on his face.
"You have proven your loyalty Takmet," Memnon said casually. "You shall command my left wing, and serve as governor of Ur after it's capture."
Memnon turned to Thorak, his second in command.
"And with Thorak in command of my right wing, will shall destroy all who dare challenge our might."
Around him the Red Turban guards seemed to be holding on to Memnon's every word.
The Great Teacher turned to me.
"And with the rise of the demon moon, my armies will sweep to the sea and I shall ascend to the throne as the King of Legend, the favored ruler of the gods. Just as the prophecy decrees."
Taking a deep sigh, I nodded. Confirming the inevitable.
Memnon had turned back to Mathayus (who looked as if he would like nothing more than to slice Memnon in two) when there was a clatter of armor. Two men, obviously soldiers, appeared. Between them they held a man who looked to be marked with arrow wounds, barely alive.
He raised his head to look in to the eyes of Mathayus.
It was then I recognized the man, it was Jesup. The Akkadian's older brother.
"My Lord," Spoke one of the solders. "We have shot this one down with enough arrows to kill any other man here, yet he still lives."
Memnon looked even more amused.
"Well this is interesting," Memnon said, looking at the wounded warrior before him. "For an extinct race, these surviving Akkadians, seem to be hard to kill."
Memnon walked over to Mathayus and took one of the throwing knifes from his belt. He flipped the blade over in his hand to get a better look at it. The metal seem to gleam with an unnatural blue light, an magnificent example of the Akkadian craftsmanship in blade making.
"Beautiful," He said in pure admiration.
The Great Teacher's eyes locked to those of the Assassins. And I quickly knew what Memnon had planned with Mathayus' knife.
He turned to his two soldiers and said, "Bring the him to me."
Mathayus then yanked at his bindings with the strength of a cornered beast as Memnon made his way to Jesup. The Assassin fought against the bindings and the Red Guards who surpiseingly were able to hold back the raging warrior.
"Mathayus," Came Jesup's weak voice.
At the sound of his brother's voice, Mathayus fought harder and harder against the ropes, with no avail.
"Mathayus," Jesup said his voice more urgent.
Jesup closed his eyes for a brief moment, and Mathayus stopped fighting his captors. Then Jesup's bright clear eyes locked on to that of his younger brother.
He had the look of one who was not afraid of death, but welcomed it. For he knew that was all he could do.
"Live Free," Jesup said, his voice soft.
The younger Akkadian swallowed hard, a pained look flashed across his face.
"Die Well, my brother…" Mathayus said, resignedly.
And in one vicious move, Memnon slit the Akkadian's throat.
I quickly turned to Mathayus. The pain on his face was so similar to the one that I had when I watched Memnon kill my mother. I did not need to use sorcery to know how he was feeling.
The aching pain, and the emptiness that follows it is one that is worse than any torture the man can could up with.
It was when Mathayus turned away from the sight of his dead brother that I felt it.
At first I thought it was just a insect buzzing around my ears, but the rumbling got louder and louder.
I let a hand go up to my forehead.
It was strange but I could sense a deep rumbling, as if something deep, something powerful was shifting.
I looked to the guards around the room.
No one seemed to be disturbed by this great change that I could sense on the air. Suddenly, my eyes flew to Memnon, the dagger in his hand was dripping liquid rubies and I saw something that only my eyes could see…
…The Great Teacher's face was edged in silver. A dancing halo of fiery light shimmered around his brow…
…Then I blinked and the image disappeared.
Memnon stood before, the Akkadian, studying the knife in his hand.
"I have never used a blade as sharp as this," The Great Teacher said.
He looked up to Mathayus, a cruel smile on his face.
"I wonder if it's blade will not dull when it is used a second time."
Memnon walked up to Mathayus, the last of the Akkadians. Knife in his hand.
Mathayus took the little time he had left to look to Takmet, Thorak, me, then lastly Memnon. A wry smile formed on his face.
"I will meet all of you again," Mathayus said, not fearing the death Memnon had planned for him. "In the Underworld.'
Memnon returned the smile.
"Oh but not for a long time, Akkadian," Memnon said, preparing to make the final slash.
Now, was the time I had to act.
"Stop!" I said, making my voice as sharp as a blade.
At the sound of my voice the eyes of every man turned to face me. Holding my head high, I stepped foreword.
"Wait" I said, my voice strong, holding authority, my chin up, staring in to the eyes of monster.
I would not allow the Great Teacher to kill the only hope I had of escape.
"Mathayus shall not die tonight," I informed him.
"If that is a prophecy, Sorceress," Memnon said, still poised to slash. "Then perhaps I am in need of a new seer."
I let my eyes narrow.
"Change your future if you wish," I said coolly.
At once that captured Memnon's attention. As well as the attention of every other man in the tent, (including a surprised, taken aback Mathayus).
"Should Mathayus die by your hand," I continued. "Or, any hand you command. A great misfortune shall fall upon you. The gods are watching my king, and they have shown the Akkadian favor on this night."
The guards around us seemed to tremble by my words. Even the soldiers, who had killed many, men, women and children seem to look to each other, their eyes showing how they already feared the "misfortune" that, (I confessed) I predicted on a whim to help the Akkadian survive. Mathayus looked to me, with a calculating look, as if he wasn't sure what to think of me. Memnon sighed, as if been denied a real treat, and nodded. He stepped back away from the Akkadian.
The Akkadian and the Great Teacher locked eyes, sharing looks of pure contempt.
"It's a puzzle then," Memnon said. "How to kill you without using my hand or any hand I command."
Suddenly, Thorak swung the trident, at the Akkadian's jaw, knocking him unconscious. Quickly the Red Guard untied the limp Mathayus.
"Take him with the horse thief," The Great Teacher said. "They'll both be excellent food for the fire ants. After all, that is not hand of mine, nor any hand I command."
The guards nodded, and took the warrior out of my tent. With them went the rest of the Red Guards, Thorak, and Takmet. Now only the Great Teacher and I stood in the tent, alone.
Memnon turned to me. His eyes filled suddenly with suspicion.
"Are you sure it was just the gods who showed the Akkadian favor?" He asked coldly.
I looked to him, my jaw tight. Trying with all my might to hide the fear I felt creeping in my chest.
"With all due respect, My Lord," I said, my eyes narrowed, my voice as cool as ice. "If you are coming to question my word, then perhaps are in need a new seer."
And with that said, I gave a low bow and turned to go to a curtained area of my tent. I stood there for a few seconds waiting for the footsteps that would tell me the Memnon had left my tent.
Once he did, I decided I had to be more careful, if I had a vision of Mathayus somehow surviving (that is only if, it was a slim chance, after all). I had to be more wary.
For the Great Teacher did suspect something.
But what, I did not know.