The Life of Koru, Chapter 41
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Mulo still felt the smell of Cuzco's piss in his dried-up hide when he marched towards battle. The piss of an experienced warrior brought luck and valor to a rookie like him. It was not at all humiliating. It was a badge of honor to wear such worthy piss on his hide.
"See this I'se have on my neck, rookie?" Cuzco told him showing a rope necklace with a lot of cock cages hanging from it. "A little cage from every smallcock I'se slain! Ye wanna know how many I'se have?"
Mulo couldn't count very fast.
"I'se have two fuckin' hundred, rookie boy! Now, how many have ye killed so far?"
"One, bossuh!" Mulo said.
It was the one he killed with the machete the other day.
"Hah!" Cuzco laughed. "One pup planted in a wumma's womb, one smallcock sent to the grave! I'se see that ye like to keep balance!"
Mulo felt worthless. He told Cuzco:
"I'se wanna be like ye, bossuh!"
"Bet ye do! Bet ye do!"
Oasis Al-Nur was an outpost of the Caliphate soldiers. Captain Toure had instructed the guerilla army to attack it at night and conquer it.
From Oasis Zerakala, the road to Al-Nur was just a day and a half long, but the koru had to tread carefully because of the numerous landmines. Rookies like Mulo and Sleaze were asked to walk at the front of the army, in order to detonate any mines and clear a safe path for their comrades. Mulo knew what would happen if he stepped on a mine. He would be pulverized in so many pieces -- not even his eyes, not even his balls would stay together! Every time he lowered his foot in the sand, he remembered this and knew that it could be his last step. It was a miracle that he survived.
As soon as they saw the oasis in the distance, the slaves started crawling in the sand on knees and elbows, so that they would not be spotted by the night guards.
Their attack had been timed in advance by their Black commanders, so that it happened when there was new moon in the sky and just a little light from the stars. The Black Empire soldiers advanced using darkness to their advantage.
As they reached the first line of date palms marking the oasis boundary, Cuzco glanced back at his comrades, giving a brief nod. The signal came from Captain Toure whose presence was felt through the talkie device that Scoutie was carrying:
"Alright, apes, when I count to three you go in and attack the smallcocks! ONE! TWO! FUUUUCKING THREE!"
The slaves sprang into action, their movements synchronized and swift. They dispatched the unsuspecting guards with swift precision, ensuring no alarm was raised. The element of surprise was their greatest weapon, and they wielded it flawlessly.
The oasis, once a serene refuge for the Caliphate koru, was now a battleground shrouded in darkness. Mulo's heart pounded as he approached a confused smallcock -- he attacked him with the precision of a nocturnal predator. The soldier was caught off guard, barely having time to reach for his weapon before Mulo silenced him. Another smallcock who heard the noise jumped towards Mulo with machete in hand. Mulo stopped his attack with his own machete and the blades crossed and clashed in the deep darkness. At a certain point, Mulo realized that he had hit flesh, but was his opponent dead? He was not so sure of that, so he stood still for a few more seconds, clutching the machete in his hand, ready to strike. There was no other response. It was all over.
The battle ended just as fast as it started, with very few casualties for the koru of the Black Empire. It was a resounding victory, so they chanted:
"HURRAH! HURRAH! GLORY TO THE BLACK EMPIRE!"
Pair by pair, the soldiers jumped on each other's stooped backs in a stupid game of leapfrog. They then danced in a circle in their tribal way, grabbing each other by the shoulders, punching their chests and lifting their legs high. Soon enough, the dawn light began to break, casting a soft glow over their tanned bodies.
The slaves could finally see what they had conquered -- every oasis was a fragment of paradise, but Al-Nur was particularly breathtaking under the rosy touch of the dawn. The delicate hues of morning illuminated the palm trees and the shimmering waters of the lake, revealing the true beauty of their newly claimed stronghold.
The only thing the slaves didn't like was the very name, Al-Nur, which sounded strange to them. They wanted to change it to Oasis Captain Toure.
This proposal coming from the slaves flattered Captain Toure greatly, so he had no objection against the naming. In his vivid imagination, he saw his name immortalized on future maps of the region, a true and well-deserved recognition for his brilliant military career.
"You did well, apes!" he said through the talkie. "From now on, this outpost will be known as Oasis Captain Toure!
"YESSUH CAPTAIN SUH! HURRAH! HURRAH! GLORY TO THE BLACK EMPIRE! GLORY TO CAPTAIN TOURE!"
A few hours later, some drones brought provisions and a flag of the Black Empire to be hoisted and flutter proudly at the heart of the oasis.
Lying in a ditch, in a puddle of mud and vomit, was not Chief Tariq's idea of comfort, but it was what alcoholism had brought him to. It is in this sorry state that Peon found him one night when he thought he had heard a strange thud near the forge.
"Suh Chief, ye okay?"
It was clear that suh Chief was not okay, so Peon hastened to help him. He raised the old man in his arms and carried him to his rented apartment. There, he tried to do his best to bring Chief Tariq back to his senses. He laid him gently on the bed, did mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and chest compressions, then fetched a basin of cool water to sponge his forehead. When the overseer seemed to have recovered his conscience, Peon covered him with a blanket, hoping the warmth would stave off the shivers that wracked his body.
"Thanks, boy!" Chief Tariq said, still inebriated.
"Suh Chief, the pleasure is mine, suh!" Peon said, bowing at his feet.
"Even though I beat you so often, you still came to help me!"
"Suh Chief, I'se do my duty as a slave!"
"Of course you do! But you do it with eagerness as a true koru should!"
"Yessuh Chief, suh!"
"I will reward you for that! You see, I'm old and I will soon retire. You will return to Massa Reginald's plantations and work there as a blacksmith. You have enough skill for that. Unfortunately, Smasher cannot come with you!"
Peon had conflicted emotions about this. On the one hand, it was amazing that he would be allowed to continue as a blacksmith. On the other hand, Smasher was like a father to him, a father that he never had.
"Thank ye, suh Chief, suh!" he said.
"Now tell me, boy! Have you ever done something that you really regretted afterwards?"
"Yessuh! I'se once fucked a wasp nest..."
"You fucked a wasp nest??" Chief Tariq bursted out laughing.
"Yessuh ... Is because I'se lost a wager with my buds, so I'se had to fuck the nest..."
"Damn! And how did it go?"
"Awful, suh Chief! All them wasps stinging my cock! It becum so red and swollen, that I'se couldn't feel it anymore! For a week, suh Chief, I'se couldn't feel my cock!"
"Amazing story!" Chief Tariq said. "Ok, now it's my turn to tell you something I deeply regret. You want to know why I drink so much, boy? I never told anyone, but I can tell you, because you are such a good boy!"
"Suh Chief..."
"I drink because I remember bad things from the past... and I really don't like that! When I was your age, boy, i killed... a Black man... I killed him in cold blood. It's because he insulted me. At a party, he told me: `Your dance is so trashy, Tariq! You dance like a fucking koru!' I never liked to be disrespected. Not like this! I lost my mind. I waited for him outside with a club in my hand and... I think your story with the wasp nest has a better ending..."