The Subut tribes part 2

After an hour of trudging through the harsh winter landscape, the group arrived at a small village beside the shimmering lake. The village was nestled in a clearing surrounded by dense forests of towering pine trees, whose branches were draped in snow. The village consisted of a dozen yurts and log cabins, all adorned with torches to ward off any dangerous monsters that might attack.

As they approached the village, it appeared deserted, except for one irate-looking sassan who emerged from a nearby hut, draped in thick fur. "What in the menstruating horse are you DOING? YOU'RE BRINGING OUTSIDERS TO OUR VILLAGE!" the sassan man yelled.

The man's anger only escalated when he realized that the strangers were otherworlders, not sassans. But when the young boy, whose name was revealed to be Jaska, displayed the testicles of the slain beast, the sassan's shock was evident.

"They slew not only the father but the mother as well. We no longer have to give sacrifices anymore," he proclaimed proudly.

"Well, the first time suddenly showing balls helped," Amala quipped, attempting to lighten the mood.

The commotion attracted the attention of the other villagers, who cautiously emerged from their homes. When a couple recognized him and realized what had happened, they rushed over to embrace him. As the young sassan explained what had happened, they all were amazed that the divine beasts had been killed.

"Please, you have saved our village. We insist that you rest and stay with us. My wife and I are forever in your debt, as we now can keep our youngest," one of the sassans said gratefully.

"We need a doctor. Our friend is sick," Rufus explained.

"I am a healer. Please come with me," the sassan offered, leading the group to his yurt.

~~

The group huddled together in the yurt, surrounded by the warmth of the fire and the fragrant aroma of the boiling water. The elderly sassan woman bustled about, her gnarled hands expertly preparing the medicinal brew.

The sassan were of the scethian culture, worshipped Arslan, and were part of the Subut tribes. The tribes far north lived in forests and rarely lived and died from atop a kevah as a rider.

Suomi lay still, her breathing shallow and ragged, while the healer probed and prodded her with gentle fingers.

"How is she?" Rufus asked, his voice thick with concern.

The healer shook his head gravely. "Her fever is high, and her body is weak. But we have the best medicine in the world. It will help her."

The young boy stepped forward, holding a small slice of the divine beast's testicles in his hand. Without a word, he dropped them into the boiling water. The liquid turned a deep shade of pink, and the old sassan deftly poured it into a small cup.

"Here, drink this," she said, holding the cup to Suomi's lips.

Suomi's eyes were glazed and feverish, but she managed to gulp down the medicine. She winced at the bitter taste, but the heat of it spread through her body, easing her pain.

"What is that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Amala and Rufus exchanged a look, but before they could answer, and said, "Just drink it."

The healer spoke up, "The Karkuk has a terrifying way of reproducing," he said. "If a male and female high Karkuk mate, they give birth to one offspring a day, which grows into a fully-fledged creature in just two months. The male's testicles are the source of this incredible reproductive ability, but they also have remarkable medicinal properties."

Amala leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. "And the bones around the shrine?"

The old man hesitated, his expression troubled. "When we realized that a male and female Karkuks had started to procreate near our village, we were unable to leave. To appease this monster and prevent it from destroying our entire village, we sacrificed one child a month. We used to have seven children...now we only have one."

As they spoke, another sassan entered the yurt. He was dressed in fine furs, his clothes a stark contrast to the rough garb of the others.

"Village master," the elderly sassan and his wife said in unison, bowing low.

"What of the testicles?" the village master asked. "I heard you took them?"

"Yes, they are here. We are about to prepare medicine to feed to the rest of the people of the village. Many are sick because of malnutrition," the elderly sassan said with a smile.

"The testicles will be dried, then taken to Samarqand to be sold," the village master said.

The old man's smile faltered. "Yes, of course, there will be plenty that we can sell, but we should give it to our people as well."

"No," the village master's voice was cold and unyielding. "We cannot waste such a valuable resource on our own people. We need to trade all we have. We can use the wealth to buy other medicine for the people."

"But many won't survive until then. Traveling to Samarqand takes months," the elderly sassan pleaded.

The village master's expression remained stony. "That is not my concern. We must do what is best for the village."

The village master's countenance shifted as the discussion continued. His demeanor grew more forceful, his tone increasingly strident, and his eyes glimmered with a covetous glint.

"Enough with this conversation," he declared. "We possess a valuable commodity, and we must exploit it to our advantage. Our people have suffered for far too long, but now we have the chance to alter our circumstances. We shall sell the testicles and use the proceeds to acquire better medicine, food, and weapons. We will become powerful, and our foes will tremble before us."

"What foes?" Rufus inquired.

"Take the testicles," the village master ordered a pair of Sassan who entered the yurt with the intention of seizing the prize by force.

Amala interposed herself, joined by Rufus.

"Those testicles belong to me, as I was the one who slew the monster," Rufus contended.

The Sassan hesitated, apprehensive of Rufus and Amala, who had dispatched the colossal divine beasts that none of the Sassan could ever hope to vanquish.

The village master and his henchmen departed.

"I have so many jokes about balls floating in my head," Amala jested.

"I despise that man," the youthful Sassan stated.

"Thank you, but we must avoid antagonizing the village master. He has always strived to act in the best interests of our village," the aged Sassan cautioned.

"That was not my impression," Amala countered.

"Years ago, he was different. Long before the Karkuks arrived and caused us to be marooned here, the village master was a clever and wise leader. He had come from the south as an outsider, traveling here with his daughter after losing his wife in a tribal war. Seeking sanctuary, he was nominated to become the leader of our village. We thrived, trading with other tribes and avoiding entanglements with neighboring settlements. But one day, the village master's daughter vanished. He scoured the land, as did we all, but she could not be found. He plunged into a deep depression, and soon after, the Karkuks descended upon our forest and began to breed and propagate their offspring. The village master resumed his post and proposed that we could negotiate with the divine beasts by offering one child every month until help arrived from the south," the elderly Sassan revealed.

"And you obeyed his orders?!" Amala demanded incredulously.

"What other choice did we have?" the elder countered.

"Sounds all too familiar, doesn't it?" Rufus quipped, turning to Amala.