Chapter 42
Missing Tribe
“Look alive everyone, we’re approaching my tribes’ grazing area,” Hollen gave everyone a heads up. He was excited to see everyone’s faces when they saw the gorilla escort.
“It’s about time!” Rathe exclaimed. “Let’s get a move on! I want to be on the way back before nightfall.”
Back when Rathe and Vloz first visited the area alone, they had visited a couple of tribes and even eliminated some small clans contesting for the territory. They had no need to visit the whole territory after showing their strength, letting the word spread amongst the tribes and finding a place for the gorilla clan to settle.
They had heard a rumor that there was a stallion tribe to the north but didn’t have enough time to go visit. Stallion tribes rarely had any strong individuals, but their vast numbers would almost always prove to be a strong force. Vloz and Rathe both wanted to visit and befriend these stallions because their numbers would allow them to have a startling force for their territory. That’s why Rathe was so pumped to finally arrive and see their strength for himself.
“There it is, out in the distance,” Hollen was smiling as his village came into view. There was a large bundle of trees and within it hid the stallion’s homes. Many trees were roughly cut down and leaning against each other to form lots of massive lean-tos.
“How strange…” said Hollen
“What’d you say?” asked Rathe as the gorillas all looked to Hollen.
“I don’t see anyone in the village. By this time in the morning, we should be able to see them out in the hills. Some train there while others relax and enjoy the wild grass everywhere, but I’ve never seen it so quiet. So… desolate,” suddenly Hollen sped up and raced towards his village and the gorillas followed closely behind. Upon entering the village, there were no signs of life, only the morning breeze could be heard. Hollen’s eyes grew in size. “How can this be? They should all be here.”
.....
As the gorillas entered a few steps behind Hollen, they all showed their worry. Rathe refused to believe such a reality. “Something must have happened. All of you, go search the surrounding four thousand krin and if you find something, make it known immediately.”
Each of the gorillas dispersed and scoured the surrounding area for any signs of a trail. They were just as determined as Rathe, not wanting to stop for anything until they found the stallion tribe.
“Oli, you stick with me. You’re gonna help me find the ones who caused this,” said Rathe.
“You mean…” Oli’s response faded off unfinished.
“Mhm. I’m gonna pummel all of those human cowards until not even their mamas’ can recognize the carnage,” Rathe’s knuckles popped as he clenched his fists.
* * * * *
One day earlier, not too far from the stallion village, a bald, muscular man wielding a steel-tipped whip drove a herd of large horses across the rolling hills on horseback. He only wore a black leather vest on his torso that just barely fit him. On his back was a saber hidden within a decorative sheath and across the back of his vest, there was some kind of insignia. It had crossing sabers, similar to the one he had, in front of a red-tinted moon with the letters “B.M.G.” engraved on the foremost blade.
“Hey! Brado!”
The bald man turned about, showing off the scar that fell from just above his right eyebrow to below his right earlobe. “Yo, Artio! What is it?”
Artio was shorter and thinner than Brado, but he too had the bladed insignia on the back of his long sleeve leather jacket and on the side of his hip was a saber identical to Brado’s. He was coming from the rear of the fifty-man bandit party, as he was the second-in-command and in charge of their rear.
“Brado, they’re having some difficulties with those peak-adepts we captured,” Artio didn’t waste time with his report.
“Huh? We already caged them up and loaded them on to the wagons. What kind of trouble can they cause now?” Brado didn’t like a single thing to be out of line. He was known for his ruthlessness and disciplined even the slightest mistake.
“We put them too close to the edge and let one of them break a wheel with their tail. The wagon fell and crushed the axle, so it’s going to take some time to fix,” Artio shook his head in disappointment.
“HAAAALT!” yelled Brado.
All guards stopped immediately and forced the stallion herd they had surrounded and chained together to a stop. After everyone followed his command, Brado led Artio to the back of their caravan with a murderous look on his face.
They soon reached the broken wagon and dismounted. With a few glances, Brado knew that this would take them nearly a day to fix and because the wagon hadn’t immediately stopped, some of the floorboards were dragged across the grassy terrain, warping under the heavyweight of the stallions and their cages.
“You!” Brado pointed at the captain he had stationed in charge of the wagon and its cargo. “Who were the ones who loaded up the cages?”
“Th-them, sir,” he shakily pointed to the three now pale-faced men directly behind the wagon.
“Sir, we only loaded the wagon as you ordered. I don’t see any problem with what we—” the bravest of them tried to state his case before he was cut off, literally. His head was severed from his body before he could even finish his sentence and a bloodied saber was brandished in front of his collapsing body. The others turned to run, but they met the same fate before they could take a single step. Blood stained the grass red as Brado flicked the remaining blood off his saber and used the shirt of the nearest corpse to wipe it clean. He returned it to its sheath and glared at the stallions.
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