Otheris and the Serpents of Qhudrus
 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Otheris and the
Serpents of Qhudrus
    By Richard
Shekari
     
    Copyright 2016
Richard Shekari
     
     
     
     
    Thank you for
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    Contents
    Acknowledgments
    Dedication
    The great witch
of Moughdug
    Otheris
    Devourer
    The road to
Qhudrus
    The Serpents of
Qhudrus
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Acknowlegments
    Gordana
Misciew, Ron Terna Torkwembe
    Ayiwulu
Alaku
    Martin
Ibrahim
    J.T. Iosun
    Felix
Dominic
    Shima I.
Stephen
     
    …Your words of
encouragement and profound support greatly influenced my desire to
write this piece.
     
    You’re
appreciated, Richard.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Dedication
    To Felix
Ikani.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    The
great witch of Moughdug
     
     
    “Let go of me
Otheris!” cried the old witch in her black cloak as she struggled
to free her neck from his grip, he kept walking and didn’t care to
look back as he dragged her down the village, “Let me go!” she
barely choked struggling with mucus all over her face and his hand.
Other than her creaky old voice, only the chirping of the crickets
and the hooting of the owls could be heard. Otheris uttered no
words as he tugged her.
    “Please Otheris
son of Delial, have mercy and free me,” she pleaded, “I shall not
come near thy household again!” still struggling for air to
breathe.
    “You shall be
free. I have no plans of taking your life oh great witch of
Moughdug. You should know that by now, the village folk need to see
you in your true form,” replied Otheris.
    “I beg of you.
Heed my words son of Delial; neither I nor my prentice shall fly
near thy domain from hence. Spare me,” she entreated.
    The village was
as mute as a graveyard. They passed some houses and arrived at a
place that seemed to look like the market place, with his fingers
still clenched to her wrinkled neck. Otheris threw his sword on the
ground as he approached a big bell hung to a barren old tree at the
centre of the village.
    “Otheris No! No
Otheris!” she cried out.
    Otheris picked
a mallet that was kept on top of the big bell and struck it three
times, and the old witch turned in dismay as a dreadful horror
usurped her senses.
    “Why do you
worry? The village folk said that the oracle had foretold your fall
in the hands of the one who is pure in heart,” he said, “not that I
am an ardent follower of such ridiculous asinine way of thinking, I
am just fed up with your vileness!”
    “Your tongue
reeks of pride son of Delial! No one is burning anyone tonight,
you’ll see!” she vaunted.
    The village
folk began to light up their lamps and their voices were heard. The
witch didn’t want them to see her as she was, and for every time
Otheris banged the big old bell more lamps would be lit and more
chatters heard.
    “You have
really put up a good fight,” he threw the mallet on the ground.
“I’ve got to admit, you’ve got skills even the serpents of Qhudrus
lack,” he said smiling as he lifted her up above his head with his
left hand, leaving her legs dangling in the air, “for years no one
believed me” he heaved a deep sigh, “but today….the truth shall
come out!”
    The old witch
managed to turn around to see if anyone was coming, she then stared
down into his eyes and made few attempts to kick him with her legs
but he lowered her down hard.
    “You fool,” she
grumbled, “no one burns tonight! You hear me son of Delial? No
one!” she bit his left hand almost ripping a lump off of

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