When someone died, a kobel, a captive, even an animal, the body was taken to the wyvern lair. There at the entrance, under the massive hanging skull they put on masks fuming with incense and carried them in.
The bodies were normally discarded in the wyvern's pit where the stench was excruciating.
But not this evening. At dusk the kobel led them up instead, through the curved tunnel and to that sacred chamber where a treasure still shimmered in the darkness. They left what few carcasses they carried among the field of bones and quickly retreated.
Come dawn, their champion went in to commune with the wyvern spirit, then came out soon after.
He was not nearly satisfied.
Followers outside saw him sour, but pretended he was fine and let the captive wash his face and hands with the oily wool.
They did not even need to ask him where he was headed next. Yesterday their new warrior Savae had defied a scarred one in duel. The fence was already in place, the combatants waiting for them up on the plateau where children, all excited, impatiently asked when it would begin.
A whole tribe welcomed their champion at this field.
But Tunu was only watching Savae, the female that had armed herself with nothing but a bone knife. He could not care less what his adversary had equipped. She looked even more feral than him, hypnotizing.
Sulfurous.
She felt his gaze, glared at him in response then went back to carving a war symbol on her palm. The pressure, the pain, made her forget everything.
When Tunu finally looked away from her he noticed there was no trace of either the shaman or his apprentice.
"Where is Lutuk? Why is there no arbiter?!"
"We told him about the duel." A kobel assured him. "We told him again this morning."
"If he won't come we'll do without."
The scaled kobel gestured for the fight to begin. Nobody wanted to oppose him, so they let the warriors enter the field.
They had barely done so when an old voice boomed.
"I'm here! Impatient brats!"
The shaman pushed through the crowd. It was a ritual which the kobel performed again, again laying down the grievances. How one called the other a traitor and for pride to be paid in blood.
Everyone knew this duel would not end well. As the case was made the tribe hissed against the female and cheered her opponent. They called her a captive and a savage. None of them could see her as part of the tribe.
Only Tunu wanted to see her prevail.
But the moment the fight began she rushed and leapt on the warrior, fell on his shield with the power of a ram. It seemed for a moment that the battle was already over.
As her knife plunged in his shoulder the warrior screamed. He had already dropped the spear she had parried to take out his axe and strike. He lacked no strength to have withstood her charge and her weight, nor did he lack endurance for sustaining that wound.
His swing had forced her back, yet he was now forced to abandon the shield, his arm incapable of lifting anything anymore.
They both lunged, slashed the air in search of the other's vitals and for those few seconds circled around each other like animals.
He got her first, grazed her chest for missing the neck by nothing. Had he pushed his luck this could have finished but, cautious, the warrior stepped back thinking he would get at least a second to breathe.
She was back on him in an instant. They circled once more, both of them tiring quickly.
His axe nearly struck her head. It would have been a deadly blow had she not blocked at the last moment. Still the iron blade hit the stones engraved above her eye and she shrieked.
Again he thought that would buy him time to catch his breath. Again he was forced to fend for his life the next instant.
Exhaustion had him slow down and it was her turn to hit him, but miss by a bit when he blocked with his arm.
So her jaws seized that arm, bit in it with what paltry fangs a kobel had.
Like a fool, he panicked to push her back, shook her off and with his free hand seized that head only to feel the knife pierce under his cuirass. Once, twice and once more, so deep that her fingers had penetrated. She was twisting hard, eyes mad until he collapsed.
But when he did she only crouched on him to keep striking, knife on his neck this time, hitting and hitting to cut and slice, to crack the spine and snatched his head, throw the helmet out.
She was laughing.
The knife fell on the ground. Savae was ripping that face with those tiny claws nature had given her kind. She was ripping it until the skull appeared, until those blank eyes stopped looking at her. She picked one and started to feed.
Since the skull was too hard to crack the kobel turned to the body, detached the cuirass and threw it away to start digging on the chest.
"Well? Lutuk?" Tunu triumphed. "Won't you declare her victory?"
"Savae is the victor!"
The shaman had relented.
"Those who feed will be freed, it is decided!"
"No!" A warrior yelled. "No, she is a savage! She will never be one of us!"
"Then come and fight her!" The old kobel mocked.
And the warrior, when called, shirked for a moment. Before him the female had got back up, covered in the blood of her victim. Her purple eyes begged for him to enter that field.
Still he agreed. They helped him equip armor and weapons and he walked in, determined to set things right. The will of the tribe was on his side. Even if it meant defying their champion, their legend, he knew well in his heart that he was in the right.
She fed on his corpse as well.
When they watched her plunge her teeth on the third, no other rose. No matter their disgust, no matter their hatred, the duel was undisputed.
They had to watch her laugh and devour that raw flesh. They were forced to see that crazy kobel revel in it.
"It is decided! Blood has spoken, the result is sealed in the stars! Savae is your sister, treat her as such! And when a kobel feeds, you cowards, praise him! Look! Look at our pride, dream of holding a tenth of her strength! Envy her like you envy our champion!"
He looked one last time at the silent crowd, frowned and turned away to leave.
"I'm done here."
To see the shaman retire with a weight on his shoulders brought the kobels shame. So they started, reluctantly, to cheer the victor. They chanted Savae's name for the old kobel's sake.
Tunu himself was thrilled. His whole body trembled from excitement. He had not even thought, but entered the field in turn. He approached the warrior that feeded so vigorously, he crouched among the bodies to approach his hand.
She hissed.
She hissed but she let him caress her face. Just that touch had her clench teeth, murder seething, simmering. She too could feel a thrill like no other.
"I will kill you." The warrior growled.
"You will!" He whispered. "Yes, you will!"
And when she got up, walking a few steps to another of the kobels laying down, he fed on the one she had left for him.