On the Will of the Warlord and a Mother's Lament
The chains shackled as the elephant's cry trumpeted throughout the heavily guarded stables of the fortress, hidden deep within the moonlit and perilous woodlands of the Kanem Bornu Empire.
She had awoken from her deep slumber not long ago and her temper was ablaze, caring not about the sharpened, wooden stakes that surrounded and protruded inside of her steel cage prison, nor the wounds they inflicted on her scarred, soot-covered hide. Seeing her awake, dozens of men in familiar quilted armor began to flung in rope after rope inside the cage, covering her back, tusks and legs.
Memories flashed in her mind as the men pulled on the binds. Memories of her haven of thickets and trees burned to the ground during the middle of the night. Of her children separated from her, dragged away amidst the chaos by mounted men as her consciousness faded due to the smoke and the blood she had lost, from the furtive blows of blades and pikes.
She roared.
Some of the soldiers held their own, but others were not so fortunate. Flung towards the cage by the elephant's strength, several fell skewered over the wooden stakes, others, crushed and stamped by her trunk and feet. She would leave this prison, she would find her children, her pain be damned.
Then, all of a sudden, her wrath subsided. A crackling flame swept past her eyes, though that primal fear alone was not the reason for her distraught. In front of the cage, holding a lit torch stood a large, imposing shape, far larger than any of the remaining soldiers, who knelt in its presence.
Dressed in a lion mane cape, a necklace of hippopotamus tusks hung by its neck, a pair of grand rhinoceros horns adorned the shoulder pads of its armor and a blade far too long and heavy to be considered a blade hung leisurely by its back. The enormous lioness standing by the shape's side might as well have been invisible to the elephant, despite the fierceness of the feline's single-eyed glare, for the most horrid quality of the shape was not its mask, eerie and demonic but the presence that emanated from behind that veil.
It was an indomitable will, piercing through the wooden carving, bearing down on the elephant's being. It was power born of hardship, this the elephant could feel, one that ignited a twisted sense of kinship between the two. Repulsed and horrified by the notion, the pachyderm bellowed in an attempt to scare off the monster.
The shape remained in place, unflinching, unmoving.
The soldiers stared unsure at the scene, for they knew better than to act without the permission of their leader, lest they wished to suffer the consequences.
Galloping sounds echoed as two mounted men, riding atop a pair of immaculately bred mocha steeds, arrived at the entrance of the fortress stables. With their arrival, the elephant, growing fatigued from her bleeding, ceased her trumpeting and the rest of the men looked back in curiosity.
"Ahanti, my liege!" exclaimed one of the two soldiers, a Captain of the forces. The man, who wore a hat of a most curious design and carried both a modified bloodletting lancet and a large, decorated axe, unmounted, kneeled with a slight hesitance and bowed his head.
The shape, Ahanti, did not move.
"…Do forgive my intrusion," the Captain hesitated for the fraction of a second, "but I returned to bring you great news! The calf is well on its way to the Arab merchants on the road, as you ordered, delivered by two of my finest men. Soon we shall have even more weapons at our disposal and large amounts of a fine eastern powder of explosive capabilities may I add, all in exchange for the young beast. Truly, a marvelous trade! Rest assured, my liege, with all these acquisitions," he gestured offhandedly at the caged elephant, "your siege of the capital will transpire without flaw!"
The wind howled. Hearing no response, he raised his head and saw the side of Ahanti's mask. He felt a shiver go down his spine.
"Oh, d-do forgive me, my liege. I forgot to mention that a child lived amongst the beasts. Most curious a sight I must admit, but nothing of worry I assure you."
Ahanti's head turned. The lioness rumbled a throaty growl.
The Captain's heart sank and the piercing wound he had hidden so cleverly up to that point flared with pain. He clutched the side of his ribcage and stammered.
"W-Well you see, after he skewered one of my unassuming men through the jugular, I knocked the boy unconscious and took him along with me. There is always room for further negotiation with traders, especially in the matters of young slaves. However, shortly after my departure with my men and the calf, the boy proved conscious all along! The little monster retaliated with his crude spear and escaped my grasp. The last I saw of that cursed child was his shape, creeping back into the woodlands…"
Noting no change in Ahanti's semblance, the Captain grit his teeth, forced himself up and let go of his wound.
"But a fluke it was, my liege, nothing more! Surely, you can understand. Capturing such beasts leaves one most taxed and open to attacks of a furtive nature. Besides, what is a mere child prowling about in the woodlands to do? Not to worry however, if it still bothers you so, then let us rest and treat our wounds. First thing in the morning, my lieutenant and I will leave in search for the boy's precious, little head!"
A gust of wind blew by. Ahanti's head tilted.
The Captain gulped.
Knowing the end to be near, he thought about his life, the pitiful before and the glorious, hypothetical after. How he would have escaped treasure-filled from this nonsensical, war-mongering endeavor with a pair of newly acquired steeds, courtesies from the most recent raid on one of the nearby villages. To think life would have given him the fortune of leaving him stallions of such quality in the middle of nowhere; breeds only a trained eye in the matter could recognize, ripe for the picking.
What kind of fools would leave their mounts, these in particular, in the care of skittish villagers (or their stylish headwear and finely crafted weapons for that matter)? A pair of boundless idiocy no doubt, the man told himself, trying his best to ignore the feeling of impending doom through romantic escapism and insulting tangents. It was the least he could do anyways, for he felt death looming over like a hooded cobra, waiting for the right moment to claim its prey.
Ahanti turned back. The lioness rumbled and bared her teeth but did so as well.
Success! The Captain cried out in inward joy, praising as many deities he could remember at that very moment. All the pieces were set. Tomorrow he would carry out his mission. He would leave first thing in the morning (bothering not to wake his Lieutenant, foul bootlicker that man was) atop his pricy quadruped, dragging the other one close-behind (loaded up with a large sum of Ahanti's ill-gotten gains of course).
Understandably, he would then get lost along the way, with the wild child being far too slippery a prey and the twisting, confusing nature of the woodlands, only to end up by mere chance in route to the north. Left astray, he would have no other choice but to begin his life anew.
The soldiers – the Lieutenant included to a lesser extent – gasped in horror, the horses neighed uncontrollably and the elephant trumpeted and stomped on the ground.
The Captain, formerly grinning and confident, now laid unrecognizable, splattered all over the dirt floor, torn to shreds by Ahanti's silent, one-handed slash. Of the man, only the hat and his newly acquired weapons remained intact.
The lioness rumbled eagerly. Ahanti sheathed the massive, bloodstained blade and the lioness took the cue to ease her cravings, tossing the mundane items aside with indifference.
Frozen in place at the morbid display, the mounted Lieutenant and the rest of the men shared all but the smallest of glances with one another, wondering what course of action Ahanti would follow. They all knew best than to show weakness before their leader. They all knew the consequences.
Ahanti waved, gesturing towards the tumbling, wounded shape of the elephant. The Lieutenant, ever eager to please for the sake of promotion, took reins of the situation and ordered the rest of the men to fetch all of the healing herbs, feed and cloths there could be in storage, for the treatment of the intended beast of siege.
As the soldiers went off, led by the overeager Lieutenant (right before the man stealthily took the leftover, bloodstained items of his former superior), the Lioness continued with her meal and Ahanti approached the elephant's cage once more, making sure to hold the flame of the torch as close as possible to the pachyderm's level of sight.
The tired elephant could do little else but stare back at the piercing gaze behind the mask, as the toll of her injuries began to claim her consciousness. She feared the being standing before her, its vile intentions, the nightmares that would follow the moment she closed her eyes, but most of all, she feared for her children, knowing that she was distanced and powerless to help them.
As her eyelids drooped and fell, one thought followed her deep into her slumber. Somewhere, two children cried out for their mother and no one cried back.