“Ow!” Makron thundered. “Stop poking my ass, Masa!”
“I am not poking your ass,” Masaharta growled as he shook his head to clear the mist from his eyes.”
“AEEEE AHHH OWWW!” Makron bellowed as he leaped to his feet and spun around.
The blackest man he had ever seen confronted him with a spear levelled at his chest.
“You wanna fight me?” Makron roared. He went to draw the sword that Masaharta had presented him and instead drew a bottle of Clear Makron Vodka.
The savage stared at him in amazement and muttered something intelligible. However, the undaunted Makron brandished the vodka bottle and leaped upon the savage. Both fell to the ground and Makron smashed him on the head with the vodka bottle, knocking him out. “OOOOAHHHH” Makron shrieked as he rose and began his victory dance.
“Makron,” the God Emperor snapped. “Makron!”
“What is it, Masa? A little combat unsettles your nerves?”
“We are surrounded, you maniac.”
Makron stopped and glanced around. They stood in a small dip next to a large rock and the top of the dip was lined with half naked black men who brandished primitive shotguns and spears. Most of them were laughing at the misfortune of their leader. One of them rushed down the slope and grabbed Makron from behind.
“AAAAARGH!” Makron thundered. He quickly spun around and thumped the new savage in the ribs with the vodka bottle before knocking him cold.
As the rest of the savage horde closed in around them, Masaharta drew his sword and stood back to back with back with Makron. However, despite their best efforts, a huge savage managed to knock Makron out with his spear and Masaharta was speedily overpowerd.
“That is fine catch,” the leader growled dizzily as he struggled up to the top of the hill. “We are taking you to the Grand Tribal Council.”
“The Grand Tribal Council?”
“You aren’t from around here, are you?” the leader asked.
“No, we come from another universe.”
“Strange. We will see what our leaders say about you then.”
The leader motioned to several of his men who raised the still unconscious Makron on their shoulders and began carrying him away. The God Emperor fell into step beside the leader, who grunted, “Is he always that crazy?”
Masaharta laughed, “He is a wild one, but he is a good man.”
A half hour’s walking brought them to a circle of mud huts and the leader ordered them to halt while he went to speak to the chiefs. Ten minutes later, he returned and ordered his men to bring Masaharta and Makron.
“So you are the strange warriors that our soldiers found this morning?”
Masaharta looked around. He was at the center of a large room and a half circle of ferocious looking savages were facing him. Behind him stood the leader of the party that had brought them in.
“We come from distant universes on a mission of the utmost importance. My name is Masaharta and I currently rule the universe of the Shogun culture.”
“AND MY NAME IS COMRADEMAKRON AND I DEFY YOUR MINIONS!” roared Makron as he suddenly bounced up from the floor. The war party suspected what would come next and made a rush for him. However, he quickly shook himself free and prepared to mount a charge on the guards. As they fell back in shock, there was a flash of yellow light and the WHITE RUSSIAN GIRL stood between them. Makron’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened at this unexpected interference.
“Peace, Makron,” the fair girl spoke softly. “You were not sent on this journey to wage war but to discover knowledge and benefit the universes.”
Masaharta grinned. Makron’s face was growing more contorted by the second and the faces of the tribal leaders were almost as twisted. He stepped forward and bowed politely to the girl. “I know not who you are, fair one, but you seem to be the one guiding us here. Would it be too much to inquire as to your name?”
The White Russian smiled sweetly, “At a later time, Masaharta. At a later time.”
Makron groaned and she laughed before turning to the high leader of the Grand Council. “Wiked, this is Masaharta, the mighty God Emperor of the temporary Shogun universe. Fate and the will of the supreme rulers of the Universes have decreed that he should be chosen to travel a path that only one living being, the great God Empress Kagura, has ever traveled.”
Wiked rose and advanced to meet the God Emperor. Their hands met in a hearty handshake. “Greetings mighty Emperor! You are most welcome in the Grand Tribal Council of Ta Netjer (Land of the God).”
“Masaharta, this is Wiked, the noble high chief of the great Warlord Chiefs who have passed into Ta Netjer.”
“It is an honor to meet someone of your standing.”
“Shit,” Makron growled. “We are in the land of the dead?”
“Who would this be?” Wiked asked, motioning to Makron and looking at Masaharta and the White Russian.
The God Emperor laughed and the White Russian smiled. “This is ComradeMakron from the Soviet Universe and the Guardian of the Clear Makron Vodka,” she answered. “Of late, the vodka seems to be protecting him more than he is protecting it.”
“How do we know that these are authentic beings?” the leader of the war party demanded.
“Calm down, Saladani,” Wiked cautioned.
The White Russian smiled again and pointed to the door of the Grand Council Hut. “Look there and you can see the Imperial Council of the Shogun Universe meeting about a policy decision.”
Everyone glanced at the door and started. The Imperial Council Hall came into full view.
“Harutora, I tell you that we must lay waste to these dogs before they get…” HongKongPhooey stopped midsentence with his mouth open as a bright light flashed from the picture of Kagura on the wall of the Imperial Council Hall and the Grand Tribal Council Hut came into view.
“What dogs?” Masaharta demanded before he could catch himself.
“Why…uh…ah…Sir?” gasped the petrified Shogun High Commander.
“Yes, it is me, Old Fire and Sword, and here is the WHITE RUSSIAN GIRL whom you failed to catch.”
“Err…most pleased... er... to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”
“Do you believe now, Saladani?” the White Russian asked.
“Makron’s head looks like he has a grapefruit on the back of it and that he was in a sparring match with that girl,” Hurrikane remarked drily, not entirely convinced that Makron could hear him.
Makron growled something that was intelligible and shook his fist at Hurrikane. Hurrikane instantly leaped to his feet and shook his fist in what he thought was Makron's face. However, his fist only struck the painting of Kagura on the wall. Both the Imperial Council and the Grand Tribal began to laugh as they realized the joke. The White Russian smiled and dropped the leopard skin back over the door and the Imperial Council room instantly vanished
“My time here has almost expired,” she continued. “Masa and Makron, these are the great immortal Chiefs of the Warlords. You can see Varnicus, ChickenSlayer, CaptZulu, CommanderBLK, Kalahariraider, Wiked, and many others. They can teach you many things, simple but necessary for your journey through the course that the high Gods have determined for you.”
Masaharta and Wiked both bowed and she vanished before their eyes. The Warlord Immortal Chiefs spent the day talking with their guests. However, late that night, Wiked awoke both Masaharta and Makron and ordered them to follow him. He led them down long hallways and opened the door to a dusty room. CommanderBLK and Varnicus awaited them.
“Behold, the secret of Warlord wisdom,” Wiked intoned, pointing a large black stone between them. Masaharta and Makron bent over the stone and Masaharta read the inscription aloud:
Rahisi wanaume kutimiza ahadi zao. Rahisi wanaume kufuata njia ya kweli. Rahasi wanaume kutii sheria.
Simple men keep their word. Simple men follow the way of truth. Simple men obey rules.
As soon as the words left Masaharta’s mouth, there was a brilliant flash of rainbow colors and Makron and Masaharta knew no more again.
Here are the other chapters.