Maliha

Ancient hands gripped Maliha’s shoulders, bolstering her weakening form.

“Come child” croaked Makula as she pulled Maliha along.

Maliha wanted to protest, there were still people to be seen to, but her body ignored her reasoning. Leaning heavily on Malika, she stumbled along until she was pushed down onto a hastily made sick bed. Her chin rested on her forearms as she became drowsy from blood loss and exhaustion.

“Stay with me,” Makula called.

Her steady hands cut away at Maliha’s dress as a song began to wind over her. Makula sung her healing chant to Maliha as mixed herbs and wiped the blood from her back. Her warm withered fingers gentled over a mark on Maliha’s lower back, her hands hovering over it before she gathered up her cloth and continued cleaning Maliha’s wound.

Maliha’s eyes closed for a short moment and when she opened them again a cup was pressed to her lips.

“Drink.” Maliha pleaded, forcing the cup closer to her mouth.

“This will help with your blood loss and will encourage healing. Drink.” She prompted.

Maliha propped her body up on her forearms, grimacing when her back spasmed in pain. The drink was warm and smelt like dirt, the taste was even worse but Maliha gulped it back, feeling energised as soon as the liquid sunk in her stomach.

“Good. Now hold still.”

Maliha gritted her teeth at the searing pain of the needle sewing her flesh together, the pain was agonising, but she made sure not to cry.

She was lucky. All she had suffered was a small stab wound whilst others were not as fortunate as her. Maliha wouldn’t pity herself. Makula lay a cloth soaked in herbs on top Maliha’s wound and then bound it with a thin strip of material.

“You should heal fine. Just don’t strain your back too much.”

“Thank you, Makula.”

Maliha sat up and kissed the withered lines of Malika’s cheeks before climbing from the stretcher. As her feet touched the ground, Makula gripped her hand to halt her retreat.

There was a look in the elderly woman’s eyes that spoke volumes. For the first time Makula looked unsure of something. She was troubled. It appeared as if she wanted to impart some information with Maliha but hesitated with whether she should. Just as she was about to speak, the clatter of warriors yanked Maliha attentions away.

“Ujarak,” Maliha mumbled looking for him in the sea of warriors and wounded people

Ujarak spotted Maliha before she could find him or the thunderous expression that distorted his face. Ujarak pushed through the crowd of weary soldiers until he stood in front of Maliha with barely any space between them. His eyes caressed over her body, lingering on her face and lips.

“What happened to you?” he growled, motioning to the distressed material of her dress.

Her tongue flicked out at her lip in a nervous gesture. She didn’t wasn’t to tell him but there would be no hiding the wound or scar that would eventually come.

“I was wounded but only slightly,”

“Maliha,” he choked.

His hands glided hastily along her body as he tried to figure out where she had been wounded, the distress was clear to see in his eyes.

She cupped his cheek in her palm and tried to soothe his worries. “I am fine Ujarak, but you are not.”

From the moment he had stepped before her, Maliha had noted the blood that clung to his body like a second skin. The blood has turned a dark crimson as it dried along his body in some places but in others it flowed freely.

“I am fine.”

He tried to jolt out of her arms, but she clenched his bicep tightly.

“The men must be seen to first.”

“Yes.” Maliha agreed, “but I can’t let you go knowing you bleed. At least let me staunch the flow.”

He nodded reluctantly, following Maliha to a free seat where she cleaned his wounded arm and pressed a fresh cloth to the wound to stop it from bleeding.

“That should do for now.” She murmured, stroking his face lovingly before stepping back.

A deep sigh rattled from Ujarak’s chest as his head rocked forward and rested on her stomach. Her fingers stroked through his hair as she tried to ease the stress from his body.

“I was scared for you,” she whispered, her throat tight with emotions.

So much had happened in such a short time that she hadn’t been able to take it all in, but standing here with Ujarak in her arms, made everything clear to her. The Svolik has attacked an innocent tribe and the Der Surjaz had been forced to help their sister tribe or be held accountable for what would have been a high death toll.

Maliha thanked Savuriya that they had been able to save so many people, but looking around her, the desolation was so hard to dismiss.

“I didn’t think this would ever happen in my lifetime.” Ujarak’s head shook against her skin as his hands clenched her body tighter.

His face titled up and the distress that Maliha saw in his face had her heart breaking.

“They have lost so much,” his voice thick with emotion.

“They have,” Maliha agreed, stroking the deep bags from under his eyes.

Just a few hours ago he had been smiling and carefree and now he had the decisions of a nation on his shoulders.

“Sometimes, we have to count what we have and not what we have lost.”

His head tilted to the side in thought but Maliha could see that he found her words hard to swallow. How could the destruction of their ancestral lands, their Ishanu, not be viewed in such a pessimistic view?

They had lost so much, but they still had their lives.

“They have so much more than they could have had.”

“She speaks the truth, Ujarak,”

Maliha’s head snapped around to face the unfamiliar female who had interrupted their interlude.

The woman was stunning. Even with dirt smudging her cheeks and a weariness in her eyes, it was clear to see that this woman was beautiful. She had smooth cocoa skin, with large freckles smattered along her nose and mouth. Her cheek bones were high, and her full lips were spread in a knowing smile, a smile that did not tell of the tragedy she had faced. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail that only emphasised her striking features.

“Sabra, thank the goddess you are safe.”

Ujarak climbed to his feet and embraced the woman into a tight hug, his thick biceps seeming to crush the tall woman.

“The holy mother spared us another day and as your companion has said, we have so much more to be thankful for than we have to be sad over.”

Ujarak looked to Maliha with pride before introducing Sabra and the small cohort of women and children with her.

“Maliha, this is Sabra and her daughters, they are from Der Khatil, our sister tribe and are some of the fiercest warriors you will ever meet.”

“You flatter us, Ujarak,” Sabra chuckled, nudging him in the shoulder. “But we all know that after the Der Surjaz, the Nah Barros are the fiercest warriors..”

Maliha absentmindedly smiled at their banter as she took in all the young women before her. Her eyes widened when she landed on the young woman she had found hidden in the bushes.

Sabra caught Maliha staring at her daughter and tapped her shoulder lightly.

“Maliha, it is my pleasure to meet you. I believe you found my daughter and those who hid with her. For that you have my gratitude.”

“I only did what little I could to help.”

“Which was more than you realise.”

Heat tinged Maliha’s cheeks at the praise and thanks the woman was giving her. Maliha had not been a warrior and fought in the thick of the battle, she had not risked her life like Ujarak and the warriors had, yet this woman was thanking her personally as of Maliha had down so much.

Seeing Maliha’s disbelief, Sabra called her daughter over.

“Kali, ai leh ashra.”

The young girl who Maliha had found, followed her mother’s command and came to her. Sabra spoke rapidly as she commanded her daughter to unwind her hair in dahlik. Maliha noted that the baby Kali had been holding was no longer in her arms and was being held by a slightly older and more robust woman.

Kali slowly unwound the thick coils of her hair, the strands dangling down to her waist. She pulled something from the thick mass of her hair, letting all the ribbons that had held her hair tightly, to drop to the floor as she revealed what she had been hiding.

“Daharrasol,” Sabra grinned smugly.

The gold pendant glimmered sharply in the dimming light. The beauty and value of the metal was so clear for Maliha to see. She had never been so close to Daharrasol in her life, her only encounter was the knife that Ujarak carried but that had been from a distance during Xiuri’s hand fasting. Seeing the Daharrasol this close made it obvious to Maliha, that something of this beauty and opulence could only be crafted by an omnipotent and omniscience being. A proud knowledge sunk into her being as she glanced at the gold rounded pendant that was decorated with glimmering gems.

“You hid this in your hair, young Kali?”

The girls mouth spread wide at the clear shock in Ujarak’s voice, her head bobbing up and down with pride.

“Daz, Kali lead the first wave of our people to this land whilst we held off the Svolik for as long as we could.”

Ujarak was lost for words, shocked at how smart and cunning Sabra and her children were. Kali had been brave to carry such a precious metal in her hair all the whole being chased by their blood thirsty enemy.

A sharp call from Abazz made Ujarak remember that he had a duty to see to his warriors first.

“We will talk about this later, Sabra. For now, I need to check on my warriors and speak to my sister, she will deal with housing arrangements.”

“Thank you, brother,” she bumped her fist against Ujarak’s as he prepared to leave.

“Maliha, will you be okay?”

“Yes, I need to check up on Enzo and Nahi will likely need some help.”

Enzo would likely be worrying and Maliha needed to see him to alleviate all of her fears as well as his.

“We can all help,” agreed Sabra looking to her daughters for their agreement. “We are one tribe now,” she added solemnly.

“As it was always meant to be,” whispered Maliha.

Sabra’s head tilted thoughtfully as she took note of Maliha’s words and her appearance.

Ujarak gently cupped her face and popped a kiss along her forehead before he headed off towards the wounded warriors. Maliha stared after him until he disappeared into the crowd of warriors and refugees.

“You are not from here, are you little wanderer?”

“No, I was raised in the Yuan mountains by the Melikit tribe.”

Maliha was unnerved by Sabra’s steady gaze, her lips were pinched together pensively as she rubbed along her chin in thought.

“You remind me of someone,” her smile was reminiscent of good times that this person had clearly bright her.

“Maybe if we have time later, I will tell you all about her.”

Maliha nodded her head in acknowledgment before leading the women to where she knew Nahi would be.

Her throat burned in relief as his curly head popped out from the skirts of Hafiza. His eyes lit up and then he was jolting from his position and charging at Maliha. Her arms swung wide as she gripped him in a tight embrace, constantly peppering his face in kisses as she waddled towards Nahi and her family. He felt so good to be in her arms.

“Maliha, Sabra,” Nahi sighed. “I am so glad you are all okay.”

“Thankfully, it was so scary,” Maliha whispered, trying to avoid the main details in case she scared Enzo.

“I can imagine,” crooned Hafiza, her hand rubbing on Maliha’s shoulder as she bounced Namali to sleep.

“I cannot believe this has happened, but I am thankful that there were no serious fatalities,” sighed Sabra.

“The warriors fought strong,” Maliha added, the pride strong in her voice.

She witnessed a whole new world to their power. The Der Surjaz warriors had not only dominated with weapons but they had manipulated and controlled the elements in way she had never imagined. Draganir’s were crafted form fire and large serpents were arisen from the sand.

They had come out victorious, but it still did not take away from the fact that a tribe was now without a home.

“Ujarak has asked that you help allocate our people new homes, now that the wounded have been tended to.”

“Give me a moment to think,” she huffed, bouncing her disgruntled son in her arms. “How many of you are there?”

“Nearly three hundred.”

Nahi’s face was pensive as she stared off into the distance, her mind running over all the supplies the tribe had. She wasn’t sure how many spare materials they had to erect new tent’s, but the main house was practically empty, barring Ujarak’s room.

“The main house will be able to fit most of you. I can’t promise that the conditions will be the greatest as there are only a few bedrooms, and one of them is my brothers.”

Maliha knew that Ujarak wouldn’t be sleeping in his bed, not when there were young children and elderly people who would need it more than him.

“Your family can sleep in my tent and I can stay with Nahi,” added Hafiza, looking to Nahi for approval. Nahi nodded her agreement as she continued thinking where else to house people.

“There is only Enzo and I in our tent, we can probably fit another two or three people.”

Once they had figured out where everyone would sleep, the women split up to fix the arrangements so that everyone would have somewhere to lay their heads to rest. Maliha gathered a few extra pillows and blankets from Xiuri and her home and brought them to the main house. They worked together to make small sleeping sections for everyone to sleep in when the time came. Once Maliha had gathered as many resources she could, she headed off to the forest, leaving Enzo with Hafiza. She gathered a large bag and filled it with as many root vegetables she could find.

The lunch meal had come and gone and soon it would be the final meal, yet no one had begun cooking. Though there was so much going on, eating was a crucial aspect, one that was more important than temporary sleeping arrangements. Everyone had their purpose; many tribespeople were helping Hafiza with healing or using the few materials they had to erect temporary sleeping arrangements, but they had forgotten about food. After such a trying day, everyone would need their sustenance and strength, especially for whatever came next.

She headed over to a group of women and implored them to help her with preparing meals. Together, they bundled their resources and began chopping vegetables and boiling water. The meal was a simple fish soup with bread on the side, but it was what everyone needed.

As she was handing out bowls of soup and bread to people, she noticed that a tense hush had washed over the tribe. Maliha tried to play off the weird energy but the closer she got to Ujarak and Ray, the heavier the tension became.

“Ujarak, Ray’et?” she called, unsure whether she should approach them.

They whipped around to face her, their bodies separating to reveal a man and woman that Maliha had no doubt who they were. The resemblance was uncanny. The man had thick silver hair and that hung around his shoulders in a halo, his beard was speckled with black and grey and his eyes had fine wrinkled around the blue orbs. The woman had dark hair that hung to her waist in long ripples, light brown eyes and rich skin that was only a shade lighter than Ray’et’s.

“Maliha, meet my aunt Zoya and her mate Urik.”

“Urik, you mean- “

“Uncle?”

Nahi’s call of shock was all the confirmation Maliha needed.

Before her stood Urik, Ray’et’s father and Ujarak’s uncle, though neither males seemed happy to see him.