The Life of Koru, Chapter 44
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As soon as they heard "Allahu!" from above, they knew they were fucked.
Enemies obscured by the shadows leapt from the palm trees, machetes glinting in the moonlight. Cuzco's army was taken by surprise, their formation breaking as they scrambled to defend themselves.
Scoutie was the first one to fall, to Mulo's despair, who hastened to avenge him. Cuzco fought bravely, but was quickly overwhelmed. He took a lot of smallcocks to the grave with him. The other slaves were scattered, fighting their own isolated wars amidst the trees.
It seemed that everything was lost, but Mulo refused to succumb to the onslaught. A fire was ignited in his heart, his voice a beacon in the darkness. "For the Black Empire!" he bellowed, and his words were like a spell, binding the surviving soldiers together.
They fought like mad dogs, driven by their primal fury, their desperate will to survive and above all, their sacred duty to serve the Black Masters. Mulo sent almost twenty smallcocks to the netherworld, at first because he was not the one they were focusing on, and then because they couldn't stop him. The pup was really angry and wanted to win!
When the carnage was finished and only the Black Empire koru remained, they fell on their knees and cried. Many of their friends and comrades were lying dead on the ground. It was a sad victory, a horrible victory. Nobody wanted to celebrate. There were no leapfrogs or dances.
Mulo was still shaking from disbelief, mourning the deaths of Scoutie and Cuzco.
"Fuck! Our army is gone!" he said.
"No shit, Sherlock!" Sleaze said.
"What's Sherlock?" Mulo asked.
"Don't know! Black Lords use this word, so I'se use it too!"
Mulo heard the talkie emitting sounds next to Scoutie's body and he took the device into his hands
"What are you doing, apes?" Captain Toure said. "Have you not conquered that fucking oasis yet?"
"Suh Captain, we'se had some problems, suh!" Mulo said. "Them smallcocks jumped on us from them trees and killed most of us, suh!"
"Who the fuck am I talking to?"
"Suh, I'se soldier Mulo, suh Captain suh!"
"Soldier Mulo, or whatever shit name you have, is Oasis Two Lakes under your control, yes or no?"
"Yessuh Captain suh, oasis is ours, suh Captain, but many is dead suh!"
"I think your brain is dead, ape!"
"Gimme that fuckin' talkie!" Sleaze told Mulo.
Mulo gave him the talkie.
"Suh Captain, I'se soldier Sleaze! Shit's bad, we'se tried to attack the oasis but them smallcocks waited for us in the trees and killed most of our warriors. We'se managed to defeat them in the end, but now we'se just twenty or so remainin'. Scoutie's also dead, that's why I'se speakin' with you, suh Captain suh!"
"I see!" Captain Toure said. "I want you to keep the talkie on yourself, slave! That other ape is too stupid to use it!"
Sleaze was indeed better at communicating, but Mulo had the extraordinary merit of turning the tide of the battle. His heroism had been remarked by the surviving soldiers who wanted him as a leader and were now shouting:
"MU-LO! MU-LO!"
And Mulo yelled:
"For the Emperor! For the Black Empire! Long live the Emperor!"
He called the outpost Warrior's Rest to honor the dead soldiers. The two lakes of the oasis he named Cuzco and Scoutie.
Mulo helped with the funerary rites. He washed Cuzco's body with water from one lake and Scoutie's body with water from the other.
On top of the outpost, he mounted the Empire's flag, which was as black as mourning.
Peon stepped into the goldsmith's courtyard with a mix of trepidation and excitement. It looked like a wizard's domain, complete with a tall tower from which you could see magical lights at the window. Master Eamon, the revered goldsmith chief, wasn't so happy to see him.
"Be careful, boy! I may look only half a Black Lord, but I will crush you like a worm if you dare to disobey me!"
Master Eamon was a mulatto, born from the clandestine union of a Black Lord and a wumma. He was a slave, but with privileges. He lived in a tower at the top of which he had his workshop. He wore tidy work clothes and an apron.
Most mulattos of the Black Empire received such preferential treatment, although they were mocked for having a koru parent. It was no wonder that they internalized this anti-koru feeling and unleashed it on the koru whenever they could.
"Lil Massa sends me you, a useless inexperienced horseshoe apprentice! I see that he wants to humiliate me. That's what he always does!" Master Eamon ranted, as he climbed with Peon the stairs of the tower.
Peon's breath caught in his throat when he saw the workshop. The room looked like a sanctuary of creation, bathed in the flickering light of numerous lanterns. Workbenches were covered with tools of every shape and size, meticulously organized. Shelves overflowed with ingots of gold, silver, and other precious metals. In one corner, a forge roared softly, its heat radiating through the room. And everywhere in the workshop you could see, as work in progress, precious artifacts symbolizing wealth, high status and power, golden chains, golden canes, flashy jewelry, grills, statuettes, masks -- stuff that the hip-hop culture called bling-bling, and the koru called "glimma".
Peon felt great honor to be in this place but could he meet the tasks?
Working with gold demanded a higher level of precision and patience due to its incredible value and delicate nature. Could Peon engrave in gold the same wonderful models that he had engraved in steel or iron?
Master Eamon seemed very skeptical of that. Nevertheless, he tried to teach Peon what to do. Whenever Peon did a mistake, Master Eamon slapped him on the nape and said:
"You're a good-for-nothing koru, aren't you?"
"Suh, I'se'll try to be better, suh Massa Eamon!" Peon said.
The most humiliating part was when Peon had to leave the tower for the night.
"It's time to check you up, boy!" Master Eamon said.
The checking was necessary so that slaves didn't steal any gold from the workshop. The koru had no pockets, but they could hide objects in their asses, so Peon's ass had to be thoroughly checked with a flashlight, then his mouth and throat were checked too, then a metal detector was pressed to his belly.
"Nothing up, nothing down! You're free to go, boy!" Master Eamon said.
How could Peon describe the joy of working with gold? It was a metal that seemed to dance under his touch, a fluid whisper of femininity and grace. Gold was not just a substance; it was a living entity, breathing and bending, responding to his every caress with a softness that belied its strength.
Each time Peon held a piece of gold, he felt as if he were cradling the essence of the sun itself, its warmth and radiance seeping into his soul. The metal flowed like liquid silk, yielding to his tools with an elegant suppleness.
Gold was the metal of the Black Lords. It almost felt musical and jazzy.
Under Master Eamon's watchful eye, Peon carefully began the process of melting the gold ingots. The furnace roared to life, and the intense heat softened the metal until it shimmered like sunlight. Peon poured the molten gold into the molds, his hands steady despite the pressure.
"Alright, boy!" Master Eamon encouraged. "Now, let the gold cool and set! Patience is key."
As the gold solidified, Master Eamon instructed Peon on the delicate art of engraving. "Each line must be deliberate, each curve intentional!" he said, demonstrating with his own skilled hands. "Gold is soft and forgiving, but it demands respect."
Peon watched intently, absorbing every lesson. When it was his turn, he took up the engraving tools in a state of enthusiasm and nervousness. Under Master Eamon's guidance, he etched intricate patterns into the collars, the designs slowly emerging with each precise stroke.
Days passed in a blur of intense focus and careful work. Peon grew more confident with each passing hour, his initial apprehension giving way to a deep appreciation for the craft. Master Eamon's mentorship was invaluable, his patience and expertise shaping Peon into a more skilled and attentive artisan.
A rare smile of approval appeared on Master Eamon's face when he saw the collars were complete:
"Lil Massa will be pleased to see this!"