Ghost Monkey Page 2

  The monkey mumbled, "How did your advances work back in Sankive?" He glared at the general. "I kept Fangs from puncturing Jaya. Demons still whisper about me."

  There was silence as everyone waited for Humbari to charge Sugriva, but the charge did not come. General Humbari grumbled, "The war taught me much about advancing. But this is different. These are not the Fangs."

  General Divyan stood up for Sugria. "We knew what we fought with the Fangs. We do not know who approaches. We need to be cautious. We need to hope. These locusts could be simply looking for the same thing: Peace."

  Prince Anka, the only one in the room who mattered, roused from his seat. “I will think on it. For now, the monkey gives me indigestion and I need to rest. Council dismissed." He waved two fingers and turned away.

  Good, the voice inside Sugriva hissed. With fortune, we gave him an ulcer. Sugriva ignored the voice, as he always did.

  The generals went down the stairs one by one. Sugriva never understood why those with the ability to fly and climb would waste their talents walking. The generals were not men. Even the one man present could call on wind spirits to whisk him through the air. The rest were janaav.

  Sugriva dropped down from the window, gripped a rod with his tail to flip him, then landed on the rooftop. He watched the children still playing below. The sun was getting close to setting, but the kids were orphans. They would play until the master came out to usher them home. At least in Bahimatt their dwellings were far nicer than the orphans of Jaya.

  One boy looked up and said, "Ghost Monkey, Feral Sugriva, come play with us." The title was no longer an insult, but a name that the kids spoke as if it was the one given at birth.

  "I'm of the warrior caste. Think you can keep up?" Sugriva scratched his pits and grunted. "I cut demons in two with wood chakrams, but for you I'll bring my strength down a few notches." He flipped onto the streets paved with perfectly hewn stone. Three boys threw chakrams at him, and he twisted to dodge the first two. The third he grabbed with his tail and threw back, striking a boy in the gut.

  Sugriva howled with laughter. "If this is the best you offer, go home. Sleep it off. Come back if you get better."

  The boys doubled down and chased the monkey through the afternoon and into the evening, with the monkey getting the better of them each time.

  When they were all exhausted, monkey crouched in front of them. "Will you go home now? The sun is down. We only have the fake light of the city to guide us." He lowered his voice, as if conspiratorial. "Some say it is dangerous when dark."

  Boys with families left. The others remained. One approached Sugriva. "Feral Sugriva, they say you know many stories. Can you tell me one?"

  "Stories? Stories are for old women. I have tragic experiences. You wouldn't want to hear them. Give you nightmares." Sugriva scratched at his neck.

  "My parents were eaten by demons when Jaya fell. The nightmares are already there. Show me yours."

  The monkey laughed, then sombered. "Your tragedy doesn't make me laugh. Your view of life does. It is sad a young boy has to be such a grown man. Let me start in the beginning. This is the story of the Venomoid Wars."

  Chapter Two

  The Story of the Venomoid Wars and Puncture Day

  Age of Men 806

  Bajjo dug with ferocity through the soft dirt. Soil sprayed across the three soldiers behind him, and Sugriva regularly spat it out. Mud frothed on his lips.

  In janaav form, Bajjo had black fur and a white stripe from his head to his tail. He had fierce claws and a snout. The attitude was always there, as it was for all honey badger janaav. He called back, "Can hear fighting. Diggin’ through guts instead of earth soon."

  Sugriva jabbed, "Not as fast as some of your brothers, if they're already in the pit."

  "Can dig through your innards, so watch it monkey boy," he snarled. "Can't even take your janaav form. All man or all monkey," Bajjo scoffed. The remarks put a pit in Sugriva's chest, but it didn't matter. He could still fight better than any man and most janaav.

  Labda, the only man on their team, elbowed Sugriva. "You always rile him up. What for?" Labda was a large man with a massive beard and long curly black hair. His arms were covered in a thick, raven coat of hair so illustrious some thought it a tell that he was a janaav. At least he was an elementalist. The power of wind coursed through his veins.

  "Keeps him riled up for the Fangs." Monkey smirked, but there was also fear in his chest. The Fangs were just on the other side, and when they broke through—they were the rear attack—a distraction. Meanwhile, the main body of the army attacked from above. There would be a hundred or so total at the rear, but the first team through would die gloriously, as it would be the initial point of contact. Sugriva feared being that group, even if fear was against his dharma.

  Bagheer was clean shaven. It included his body, head, and face. His skin was black, nose wide as a tell that he was a black panther, a leopard blessed by the Ashtadash with dark fur. He shifted into his janaav form, the black fur growing over his smooth body. He held a long, curved dagger in his hand. "Attention front," he purred so low it was hard to hear. Sugriva felt the sound ripple through his skin.

  For a brief moment they could see torch light as Bajjo declared, "Breach."

  Then writhing coils of sickly green poured in.

  Bajjo did not hesitate. His claws ripped into the flesh as a snake janaav bit him. He took another snake by the jaws as it lunged and ripped it open from the mouth. "Back to the Thousand Hells with all of you!" the honey badger cried out, eviscerating another with his claw. Coils loosened until torchlight burst through, and the four entered the pit.

  The pit was chaos. Snake janaav wrapped around warriors, striking them repeatedly with venomous fangs. Other snakes remained as men—the only tell their skin shimmering like scales.

  Sugriva struck a snake on the head with his staff, crushing the skull with a crunch. He howled at his kill, gaining him more attention, and his staff swung in a flurry of motion.

  The venom finally hit Bajjo, and he swooned to the side. Bagheer said, "Form a perimeter. Bajjo is taking a nap."

  Bajjo tried to wave him off as he stumbled to his knees. "Get away from me, you daft panther. I fend—" he stumbled.

  Labda struck a Fang with his war hammer, as it leapt for Bajjo. The trauma ruptured its spine.

  "Get some rest,” Bagheer said. “We'll leave some for you."

  The honey badger was already gone, napping in the din of battle.

  As the breach teams were whittled down, the army on the surface swarmed down. The distraction worked. The Fangs' front line thinned. It was a blessing from the spirits that Sugriva's team lived.

  Bajjo stood up, wiping drool from his mouth. He eyed up the Fang corpse in front of him and waddled toward it. "I'm a eat well tonight."

  Sugriva thwacked him with the staff. "Bajjo, focus. Snakes."

  Deeper in the pit, a massive Fang slithered up. He grinned and went to work. His coils wrapped around a man who shifted into an elephant in an attempt to rip the snake in two. Instead, the snake stretched, spun around several times, and scored the elephant with deep marks as if with daggers. He sprung from the elephant, opened his maw impossibly wide, and swallowed a man in a single gulp. A third he bit with fangs so large they impaled the warrior. Sugriva twitched with a desire to flee, as fear wrapped around his heart and squeezed. This was not a Fang. Only the stories of the long gone demons matched what happened.

  "It's Issi," Bajjo said, staring in awe. "The leader of the Fangs. We found his pit." All four stared as it continued to carve a bloody path. Panicked warriors fled, but Issi was too quick. He pounced from one to the next, leaving pulp in his path.

  "We got to kill him," Bajjo said, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck.

  Bagheer said, "We may be wheat thrown to the mill, but it is our obligation."

  Bajjo laughed heartily. "These are all fodder. We are not fodder."

  Two dozen warriors held Issi at ba
y when they arrived.

  Sugriva jumped down, prepared to strike Issi's skull, but the snake recoiled to strike. Sugriva shifted into his monkey form. Bagheer pounced, catching the snake right under the jaw. A fillet was slit from head to gut, spilling copious amounts of blood. The blood was like pitch.

  Bagheer shifted into a black panther and bit deep into the flesh. As soon as he tasted blood, he stepped back and spat. "This is not blood. This is the corruption of demons."

  Labda said, "It is a Fang. They've been corrupted for years." The man took his zaghnal and crashed the hammer down on the snake's tail. The dagger end pierced through and went deep into the earth, pinning the monster. Issi simply split his tail, slithered off the spike, and reformed.

  "I agree with Bagheer," Labda said. "This is not normal." He looked up in terror, as he gained Issi's attention. "By the ancestors, we fight a demon."

  Sugriva shifted back into a man and laughed. It had to be a joke, or they were all dead anyway. "There are no demons." He struck the skull several times, while Issi's concentration was split. Then the snake's hood formed spikes which jutted out to impale. Labda exhaled. The wind caught Sugriva and pulled him away. Unfortunately, the monkey was stabbed three times before getting thrown aside. Sugriva crumpled to the ground.

  "I was wrong," he mumbled, blood flowing easily from the large wounds. A healer nearby dragged Sugriva from the melee. Water, coaxed into the lacerations, glowed blue as flesh knit.

  Bajjo ripped at the meat of Issi and bit deep. "I relish in its taste," he cried out, then bit again. This caused Issi to flail and cry out. The badger swiped as it dug into the demonic meal, slashing the skin to ribbons faster than the demon snake could heal. The ferocity was terrifying, but the relief from Issi's onslaught was welcomed.

  With Issi distracted, Bagheer climbed the body, held tight to the head, and gouged its eyes out with his dagger, stabbing multiple times as the orbs kept regenerating. Again, the demon reached a point where it could not keep up. Blood pooled at the bottom of the pit.

  Issi regained its wits and tossed Bagheer, flicked its tongue, and bit deep into Bajjo's abdomen. Sugriva wept for his friend, as all the monkey could do was lay there. Fortunately, the water staunched the bleeding. Sugriva only wished it meant the pain would dull.

  Issi tossed Bajjo, and the warrior flopped on the ground. Water reached out, wrapping Bajjo up and pulling him toward the water healers. Antidotes were forced down his throat by a tendril, though Sugriva couldn't imagine the venom was the same they faced before.

  The monstrosity slithered around posts and up the pit, to the surface, where a massive bear waited. General Humbari. The general picked the snake up by the neck and slammed it into the ground. Bones crunched under the might, and rocks chipped off and tumbled into the abyss below. The snaked hissed and said, "I am no mere Fang, janaav. I am the one who resides in the Mountain Sanctuary. I have a plan, a plan deeper than any of you will understand. You will not tame the chaos today."

  Tired of speeches, General Humbari smashed the snake into the rock again and again, until the head lulled, dazed. He lifted his claws to gut the creature, but instead Issi shifted under the general's grasp, and blood poured from Humbari's hand. The general staggered back. With newfound freedom, Issi bit Humbari, and the massive bear slumped to his knees. Issi shrank down and slithered through the foliage, as Sugriva passed out.

  WHEN SUGRIVA CAME TO, the first thing he saw was General Dabip in a loin cloth, hands on his hips, with dirt smeared across his body and matted into his impressive beard. Muscles rippled under the sheen of mud and sweat. Bronze chakrams wrapped around his bulging forearms, squeezing tight so his veins were more obvious. It was not what Sugriva wanted to see, and was likely a sign he was off his dharmic path.

  "You're not dead," Dabip said. "You did us proud when you fought Issi without hesitation, and you held out longer than General Humbari himself. Though remain humble in his presence."

  Sugriva's head thumped from pain and drugs. His side and chest hurt where he was stabbed. The monkey grinned and was about to speak, but all he could do was cough. Iron flavored his spittle.

  General Dabip laughed and patted Sugriva's leg. "You’re still healing. Haven't found any more pits, so there is time." The ascetic gave a brief smile.

  Grime rubbed into Sugriva's hairy legs as Dabip massaged his calves. "Bajja is awake and found his strength. He wanted to do more, but the honey badgers refuse to let him lift too much."

  The dirty hand went from Sugriva's calf to his foot, fingers digging into the arch to make it cramp. Sugriva flinched and gasped but still couldn't speak. The general was both part infuriating and part inspiring, but it seemed today he only wished to irk the monkey. Then General Dabip walked around the side of the cot to look Sugriva in the eyes. His breath reeked of onions and garlic, and when he leaned closer the black rot of his teeth was evident. All Sugriva could think of was not getting spat on.

  Without another word, as if a full conversation occurred, Dabip patted Sugriva on the forehead and walked out of the medical tent.

  It was another week before Sugriva was up and walking, and in the meantime Bagheer, Bajjo, and Labda kept him company. Bagheer would sit in silence, aside from relating a fable from time to time on some talking animal and some horrific fate for leaving the path. Then the black panther would sit there in silence, ruminating on the message he delivered as if Sugriva could glean the significance. Much to the monkey's chagrin, he gained no knowledge from the obscure stories.

  Bajjo would tell war stories, especially any action he saw since Sugriva was still out of commission. The stories were either straight out lies or half truths, as Bajjo's guts looked like they could spill out of his wound at any moment. There was no chance he was still fighting.

  Labda brought a game. There were four in his rotation, and two of them he mastered well beyond Sugriva. The games required forethought and strategy, where Sugriva focused more on rash decisions. This brought the man great joy, and after each victory he said, "Maybe next time you will see what I am doing before I do it. Until then, I clearly see what you are doing before you even know you're doing it. The victor will always be the one who knows himself and his enemy." Drinking together afterward always calmed Sugriva’s competitive nature.

  After two months, General Humbari visited Sugriva. The general was pale, and his usually proud gait was more of a limp. He leaned up against walls, and finally struggled to sit down next to Sugriva.

  "You fought well against Issi. Many men fell against it, and I almost did. Our physicians were able to get a sample of Issi's venom and made a counter for it." The general sat down, panting. Perspiration dripped down his forehead. "I'm getting old. I might be over the bite and poison, but my body doesn't want to catch up with the rest of me. Maybe the Ashtadash call me to the next life."

  Sugriva watched in horror as the general made these comments. It was against dharma to promote one's own death. Yet the general was above reproach from Sugriva, who was a simple servant.

  The general laughed softly, clapped Sugriva's thigh, and said, "It will not due for me to wonder these things. I should go rally the troops. We found another pit, and we will destroy it. If the spirits favor us, we will find Issi again and put an end to this. Now gather with your squad. You were the last to heal, and there is no squad who did better than your own. We will need you on the front line."

  Sugriva hopped out of bed, but regretted it. His head spun, and he felt like throwing up. Once recovered from the swoon, he threw on his clothes and walked gingerly. The physician yelled, "Your stitches aren't healed. They’ll rip out." But it was too late. Sugriva did not act with logic and forethought. He acted with instinct and desire. His desire was to bleed the Fangs and kill Issi for all he did.

  The war parties were on edge. It had been a long time since battle, and even sightings of Fangs dropped off. Bajjo growled and bristled, excited at the coming bloodshed. Half of his favorite part of any battle with the Fangs was the feas
t of snake flesh afterward. Only the badgers ate them. Everyone else frowned upon the practice. Some of the Fangs were demon corrupted, and taint was said to be in the meat.

  "Dig," General Dabip commanded, and his troops dug into the earth, showering the air with dirt. Sugriva never understood how the Fangs never saw the assaults coming. Raptors cawed, as other creatures rampaged about.

  The wolves howled on the floor of the jungle. They were the shock troops on the surface. When they reached the burrow's mouth, the attack would commence, and not before. They had the last say in what burned and when.

  However, digging crews did not wait for the howl of the wolf. They went to work immediately, or they would be too late to the battle. Bajjo scurried into his hole and dug. Being sick for so long made him eager but sloppy. Sugriva noted quickly that Bajjo was about as recovered as the monkey. Neither was healed enough to be there, but it didn't matter. Sugriva and Bajjo were impatient and stubborn, and they needed to get out of bed.

  The din of battle never came. The wolves howled as they found the entrance of the Fang's hideout. However, the war cries of the janaav did not ring through the air. When Bajjo finally got through the dirt, he could see why. Skins were shed all around the inside of the cavern. However, there were no living snakes. Bajjo snarled, along with many other badgers. Their feast was denied them.

  Bagheer commented, "They knew, and so they moved far from here. We should be cautious. They bide their strength."

  BAJJO'S THROAT RATTLED as he stared down the scorpion janaav. "I'll bite off your stinger and feast on your poison. I will chew you up in place of the Fang."

  "Come get some." The janaav grew claws in place of his hands, and a tail ascended over him, stinger poised.