Page 27 of The Merciless Ones
She quickly shakes her head. “When I was born, the tribes of humanity were so thin, this mass spread out before us would be considered a city.”
The thought boggles my mind. There are a lot of people here, but certainly nowhere near a city’s worth, or even a town’s, for that matter. “Are there any other differences you notice?” I ask.
“Yes.” She turns to me, her fathomless brown eyes piercing mine from behind the mask. “In my time, women did not allow themselves to be oppressed by men. We were the rulers, not them.”
“I thought you were equals.” This comment comes from Keita, who’s been listening quietly.
“No, son of man,” Melanis says dismissively. “How can there be equality when only one in the pair can create life?”
I still, suddenly deeply uncomfortable. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard a Firstborn express such sentiments – in fact, a few of the generals have said as much over the months. Still, none have ever said it so baldly. After all, how can we create an equal society if one half of its population thinks the other is inferior?
The other generals, I know, are confronting their biases and rage, but Melanis, it seems, has no such intentions. I can see in her eyes that she means every word she just said.
So can Keita, which is why he smiles thinly as he replies, “And here I was under the impression that it took at least two to create life.”
“Tell that to the Nuru, the being created solely by women.” When Melanis gestures to me, I stiffen even further, frozen as a deer caught by a predator’s gaze.
The tension is so heightened now, I’m almost grateful when a commotion breaks out in the distance. “What do you suppose that is?” I ask quickly, focusing my gaze on the group of jatu now moving what looks like a misshapen mass of gold onto the platform in front of the castle.
“Dunno,” Britta calls brightly as she dismounts from the wagon beside me, following a careful three paces behind Li, as is expected of newly-weds. Now that we’re in the Eastern provinces, we have to pretend to be devout Oteran women again. None of us can walk anywhere without a male guardian, and we certainly can’t walk side by side with them unless we’re in a crowd.
She taps her lips thoughtfully as she comes to a standstill beside me. “Advertisement for a masquerade?” she theorizes, nodding at the group of stilt-walking masqueraders threading through the crowd in front of the platform, their multicoloured grass skirts and exaggerated masks causing as many gasps of delight as the sun-shaped paper lanterns they’re floating into the air.
I continue squinting at the gleaming mass, unconvinced. Masqueraders’ advertisements usually consist of one player dancing off to the side of a main street, calling to entice an audience. But something about the gold is—
The crowd abruptly shifts, fully revealing the platform, and horror turns my body cold. The gold is gleaming from what looks like a group of three statues. Human-sized female statues. “That can’t be what I think it is…” I whisper, taking an unconscious step closer.
Thankfully, Keita’s arm stops me just before I leave the shadow of the wagons. “Remember where you are, Deka,” he whispers, gesturing with his chin to a group of men a few hills below us, most of them wearing the distinct red armour of the jatu as they make their way to the platform.
I immediately still. My skin may not tingle in their presence the way it does with true jatu, but the fact remains: we’re surrounded by enemies, many of them quite skilled. Thankfully, they’re all well out of earshot and can’t truly see us with the wagons in the way.
I nod at Keita. “I know. It’s just – those statues, they’re—”
“Alaki in the gilded sleep,” Belcalis finishes grimly, the rage in her eyes belying her matter-of-fact words. She’s following behind Acalan, and there’s a slight tremor of anger in her body as she says, “They’re displaying our corpses.”
“To what end?”
“You already know, Deka.” This quiet reply comes from Adwapa. She’s here too, her uruni, Kweku, a hulking but still slightly plump Southern boy with warm brown skin, by her side, as is Asha’s uruni, Lamin, the most massive and yet gentle of the uruni. They all watch the platform, bodies rigid, as she says, “Those girls – they’re warnings to everyone here: this is what impurity looks like – this is the danger of it. Bet you twenty otas they execute them publicly every time they wake.”
Her words send a haze of red over my vision. Rage, pure and utter rage. “We take Elder Kadiri tonight,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Deka—” Keita begins, but I swiftly cut him off.
“The scouts have already mapped out the area and everyone’s movements for us, so any further reconnaissance we do is a waste of time.”
“You know things always change from one day to the next— ”
“But we cannot let this continue any longer.” Just the thought of those girls – the suffering they must be experiencing. The same suffering countless girls, countless people all across Otera are no doubt experiencing. “We take him tonight. And we burn everything here.”
I can already imagine it, setting this hellish place ablaze. Listening to the screams as all these awful jatu experience the same pain they’ve inflicted on so many people. The thought of it soothes a little of the fury coursing through my veins.
Keita’s eyes turn to Melanis, who’s limping over in her old-woman guise. “Melanis,” he says, exasperated, “reason with her.”
But Melanis just nods at me. “I agree with you, Nuru,” she says evenly, ignoring him as if he hasn’t spoken. “We cannot allow such an atrocity to go unanswered.”
I nod. “We make preparations now,” I say. Then I turn to Keita, who’s suddenly stiff with anger. Whether at me or Melanis, I’m not quite certain. “Take the other uruni and scout the area. Ensure that it is as we’ve been told. Acalan, you’ll remain with us.”
“Deka,” Keita starts again, but I’m too far gone now, righteous indignation setting my veins ablaze.