Title: The Warriors of Faith: Part IV: "To Be Born into Greatness"
Date: 2009-04-26 21:58:23
Type: Stories
Synopsis: The armies clash over and over in the desert as two templars try to beat the other. Meanwhile, chaos and troubles brew in the Allanak.
CHAPTER 14
Dzeda, the 42nd day of the Ascending Sun, year 19 of the
21st Age, King's
It has been 53 days since the beginning of the
campaign. The storm that raged throughout
the evening started to calm at
It has been 53 days, as I noted, and the campaign has been
going stale as of late. I have chased
Sulach through the wastes of Abi li Pah into the depths of the gith lands. The armies clashed four times in total, save
for the minor skirmishes of smaller groups when they crossed paths or Sulach's
night raids when I was unconscious of the injuries I received in the first
battle. Though, the chase started again
as soon as I was able to walk.
As soon as I recovered from the wounds in the first battle,
I chased Sulach through the land of crumbling roads and broken grounds, all the
while closing his escape to south. On
the morning of the third day we were hailed by a rain of arrows and spears from
Sulach's hidden archers. We responded with
a charge that set them on the run for half a league and there I saw the rest of
his force. They were taunting us to
continue with the blind charge to reach them for a front battle. This was a trap. I ordered my soldiers to stop and search for
pit falls and Sulach started to retreat immediately. In a manner of half an hour, my scouts found
the traps ahead of us. We moved through
the snaking path to catch Sulach's force and we only managed to catch his final
column, fifty men and women. They stood their ground as we butchered them, and
the rest of Sulach's soldiers retreated.
Such a display of loyalty, yet it is wasted with the barbarians of
Allanak.
We marched for a day but we lost sight of Sulach by
then. I cut the resting times to catch
up with the enemy in the second day. We
rationed on the march and kept moving even after the dark. We caught the enemy off guard by the fourth
day at
We kept following his tail the very same afternoon. He was cutting his way in a speed that showed
how much he was familiar with the land.
If we have the higher numbers and the abundant supplies, he has the
knowledge of the terrain and veteran warriors that are result of his previous
campaigns couple years ago. He had been
here, he fought here on the very same ground against another enemy just two
years ago. But I would not let that take
the upper hand from me.
We caught sight of them in two more days at the skirts of a
series of hills, a splash of black over the sea of yellow. I gave the order to close in immediately,
before Sulach could move out of reach again.
I realized too late that Sulach made no intent to move to the top of the
hills, the higher ground as it would provide a strategically better
position. Then I saw it that they were
not Allanakki force at all, we were charging into a pile of rocks and straw,
deceptively positioned to imitate a waiting army. I called the stop and to reposition, but it
was too late. Sulach sprinted from the
back of the hill in an instant. They
descended upon us in a fury that carried the revenge for days of running. They smashed from our flank and we lost many
good soldiers in the initial onslaught.
I saw my soldiers buckle and shatter with the sudden force of Sulach's
army. If they could break our flank, the
rest of the army would be hit from their flank s as well before they could take
position, and they would fall one by one. For the first time, I felt we were on
the verge of defeat.
Yet my soldiers stood.
These were the same battalion that lost their banners in Sulach's raids,
they knew too well what happens to runners.
They responded with an anger and pushed the enemy back. I saw my opportunity to move the rest of the
army to face Sulach's attack. The units
changed their formations and were moving in and by that time I heard Sulach's
order to pull back from the front. I was
frustrated that in such a short time we had such a blow. Higher ground or not, we had the chance to
destroy him there. My soldiers were
burning with anger and I gave the order to charge. We ran uphill to engage the enemy but the abomination
once again caused a quake that shook the entire hill. The sands moved beneath us and I saw a wall
of solid stone rise up and separate us from the enemy. Still uphill, Sulach had the advantage of
using his half giants to rain stones upon us.
He forced us back from the hill, and soon enough he was on the run
again. We lost hundred and eighty four
soldiers that day and many more were wounded.
The barbarians’ tricks cost us dearly.
It was still a victory on our side. Sulach had the upper ground and had us by the
flank completely. We were surprised and
we did not even have time to react to the battle formations. Sulach had the best opportunity that he could
ever get, yet he had to pull back. I was
never this proud of my soldiers to give me such a victorious moment, or rather,
to steal the victory from the enemy's very hands. It was clear by then that no matter what
Sulach brings, we could take it. The
victory would be ours eventually, and I was glad to feel that.
We had many wounded soldiers and were forced to camp there.
Sulach moved further north and thus stepped deeper into the gith territory, and
we could not chase him there. I sent
units of scouts and hunters after him soon after. In the following few days, they came back
with reports of skirmishes between Sulach's scouting parties. In the second day, Lyksaen group returned
with the head of the cursed abomination, and I was glad to have yet another
victory against the barbarian army. We
also lost some good scouts but neither army gained the upper hand in those
small scale fights. As of today, we
have one thousand two hundred and thirty seven soldiers in total, of which two
hundred and eighty five of them still have not recovered fully. Our cavalry outnumbers Sulach's by two to one
and we have slightly more number of half giants than what they had in the last
battle.
The days passed and we were not able to move due to the
heavy number of the wounded soldiers from the last battle. Sulach moved further into the gith region,
and my scouts were not running into Sulach's parties anymore. He was moving away from us, and we were unable
to follow him. But then again, we did
not have to. The territory we are in now
expands to the sides as it moves towards the north where it is home to many gith
tribes. It has only two exits and I am holding
one of them. Sulach has to run through
us, or has to destroy armies of gith many times vaster in number to cut a path
open. It is possible, he is moving there to find supplies, since the land is
rich enough to support thousands of gith. I even had my Faithful Sister Neodyn
to control the gith to push him out. Sooner
or later the gith will push him back and he will have to come down to test our
strength.
And I will be waiting for him.
* * * * * * * * * *
CHAPTER 15
The streets were deserted by the time the sun was disappearing in the
horizon. Those who had survived the
onslaught were no doubt hiding in the alleys or disappeared into the crowds,
away from the vengeful eyes of the militia patrols. Lord Templar Risac Valika looked out over the
streets to see a sluggish smoke rising from a nearby street, residue of the
civilian riot from a few hours ago. Scorched
buildings stood stark and bare, and the burned bodies, soldier and citizen
alike still smoldered in the skeletal wrecks of the buildings.
It was a strangely peaceful scene, with even the street hawkers being
silent. The violence and emotions of the
day were somehow distant when you were able to look across the empty streets. Risac rubbed his face for a moment then
turned to walk down the steps toward the Arbaretum.
Brown stains spattered every wall and surface. Pools of blood congealed in corners and
obscene smears showed where the bodies had already been shifted, dragged to the
pile at Meleth's Circle or loaded to the carts to be taken to Arena to feed the
beasts. The defenders were laid in clean
clothes in shades, their limbs arranged for dignity. The rioters were simply thrown onto a growing
pile with their arms and legs stuck at different angles. Risac watched the work and in the background
he could hear the screams of the wounded as they were stitched or made ready
for amputation. It would take a long
time, Risac thought grimly, for anything to return to normal.
Especially with a Highborn being
dead in the riot.
The entrance to Arboretum was well guarded by the city soldiers. They bowed in respect and stepped out of his
way as Risac approached, he simply ignored them. He walked in through the curtain to see
several highborn and their escorts taking shelter inside. Their faces turned to him as his armored
boots clattered across the tiled floor.
The riot clearly left its mark of fear on them, especially with the
fragile purple figure lying in a pool of blood by the fountain. The dagger was removed from her throat, Risac
noted as he approached. He saw the
precision of the thrown dagger on the fragile neck, it was not an accident she
was dead. She was assassinated by an
opportunist.
Risac did not notice the soldiers rise from their bowing state, one of
them was holding out the bloodied dagger that was retrieved from the body. He was rubbing his bloodied hand vigorously
on his filthy cloak.
“Be careful soldier” spoke a voice nearby, Risac turned to see it was
Lord Cadra Borsail. “Your hands have the
blood of Lady Ansche Fale on them. A
little respect is due, I believe” Lord Cadra continued.
The soldier gaped at the noble Lord, unable to comprehend. He took a few paces away, holding his hand
away from his body.
Cadra smirked at the soldier’s reaction then turned to Risac: “So few understand, do they my dear? Just what it means to be born into greatness?”
“Good to see you safe, Lord Borsail” Risac dropped a nod of
acknowledgement to Lord Cadra
“We have some matters to
discuss. It seems I need the list of
everyone Samil infiltrated in the city.”
“Then you shall have it” Cadra replied and snapped a few orders to his
slaves to have his carriage readied at Arboretum’s entrance.
“Sergeant, you said you have information for me” Risac said to the
Sergeant Varaq standing by.
“My Lord,” sergeant bowed as he began, “the mobile squads were only partially
successful. We broke them in the Miner’s
and Stonecarver’s road, and did a lot of damage on the first hours. We took them in hundreds in the first skirmishes.”
Risac nodded as he listened to the report.
“But then, word must have gotten out, we found ourselves being tracked
in the streets. Whoever took the lead,
knows the city very well. Some of us
took to the rooftops, but there were men waiting up there. I saw some of our soldiers being brought down
by women or children coming out of the houses with knives. Soldiers hesitated to kill the civilians, and
were cut to pieces.” Varaq hesitated to continue for a second, and Risac waited
patiently for the sergeant to gather up his thoughts.
“We were ambushed in the north of the stonecarver’s, just before the
Caravan road. We had been chasing them
for a while and they cornered us in an alleyway. I…”
“It was clear from the beginning the mobile squads would not be
successful in quelling the entire riot” Risac cut off the sergeant. “I sent them anyway to create chaos and fear
in the rioters, so they could be hunted down once broken. But it seems they still have a semblance of
discipline, which means there is a leader coordinating them. They are probably planning to disappear from
sight and regroup to strike one last time.
Did your men see any sign of this?”
“Yes Lord Templar, in the alleys around the Caravan road, they were
bringing more men quietly. I do not know
when or where they will attack, but it seems there will be a skirmish soon.”
“Whoever is directing them must have given them the right motivation”
Risac added as he looked at the fountain in the middle of the well decorated
room. “They are coming for water. They will strike here and the
Varaq reached to his temple as he dropped a sharp nod at Templar Risac.
A crimson clad servant came running, his sandals cluttering on the stone
floor.
“My Lord, your carriage is coming” he reported breathlessly to Lord
Cadra.
“Very well” Lord Cadra said, “Lord Templar, I will deliver the list to
you in a couple of hours. Let me know
when you are done here.”
“We will meet tonight, Lord Borsail” replied Risac, and with that Cadra
Borsail moved to the curtained exit, and outside with his escorts accompanying
him. A nervous smile was on his lips.
The riot was a bold move, but so far it worked out well. Templar Risac of the blue was already
quelling the riot. The fact that he
asked for Cadra’s direct help proved how much the troubled times could speed up
the politics. And more importantly, Lady
Fale was dead. Another point how
fruitful the riot was. Now all he had to
do was to make sure the killer of the Lady would put to death before he could
spill his tale to anyone.
The dusk was setting as he stepped out.
He spotted his carriage and was moving there, as suddenly the skies grew
dark with arrow shafts and spears, a stinging humming swarm of death. Cadra watched them fall. He clenched his fists and tightened his jaw
as they whirred towards his position.
Men around him threw themselves down, but he stood straight and
unblinking with eyes glittering. One guard finally stood up in front of Cadra,
trying to shield him with his own body.
The shafts rained and shattered around Cadra, but he was untouched. He turned and laughed at his scrambling
officers and aides. One was on his
knees, pulling an arrow out of his chest and spitting blood. Two others stared glassily at the sky,
unmoving.
The guard shielding the noble Lord took a step back: “My Lord, are you harmed?”
Cadra dismissed him with a flick of his meaty hand: “Highlord protects
his beloved. Escort me to my carriage,
quickly.”
They hurried into the inix drawn carriage. Cadra was seated inside and ordered for the
driver to move when an enraged Risac came out of Arboretum. He snapped the orders and the units of
soldiers responded harshly, steeling themselves to crush the final resistance
that threatened the city.
Cadra’s carriage moved forth,
ignoring the chaos and violence they left behind. Everything was falling in place, Cadra
thought. He had to get rid of Lady
Fale’s killer before Risac could get his hands on him to cover his tracks.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The night covered the city in its dark sheets, veiling all the violence
and stains of the riot. Serpent lay
crouched on a rooftop, overlooking the Caravan’s road. He could see most of the Commons from his
position, and notice which parts of the city were heavily guarded. The riot killed the night life in some
sections of the city as the templarate and the militia took heavy measures to
crush down any semblance of disturbance before they resurrected the riot once
more. Thousands were killed in the riot;
the streets were littered with corpses of citizens and soldiers alike. Houses were burnt down and the scars of the
city would remain a long time before they healed completely.
His plans had worked nearly perfectly, with the exception of the death
of Lady Fale. He still did not
understand how it happened, since none of his men did the deed. His instructions were to lead the crowds
toward the
Still he did the best he could, and he would get paid for it. Whatever reason Lord Cadra wanted this riot
for, he got it in the end. None of his
men were captured yet, and if they were as careful, they would not be.
He felt the presence of another mind contacting his through the Way, and
he calmed down all his thoughts and emotions, waiting patiently for the
intruding mind to speak first.
“My employer is very pleased with the way you performed your part” said Sergeant
Idenu from House Borsail. “Did you cover all your tracks? Nothing will come in
our way?”
Serpent contacted to the mind in a second:
“Not because of me, I covered my part.”
“Then there is one more thing my employer wishes for you to do.”
Idenu’s thoughts came with a hint of nervousness, which was expected if
the man never took part in a crime like this.
Serpent waited patiently for him to make the offer.
“There is someone that needs to die.
It must be done tonight.”
Serpent was irritated at a deadline so soon after a riot, not to mention
the soldiers crowding the city.
“Your employer must be willing to pay very high amounts then” Serpent
replied, after calming his thoughts.
“You will be paid what you ask for.
I will give you the looks of the man, and where he is currently. Can you do it?”
Serpent thought about it for a moment.
They would not give a deadline like this unless it was someone knew
about their involvement with the riot. Perhaps something they slipped, or
something they have done during the riot, and they do not want the man to be
found. Anger spun in Serpent’s mind as
he thought about covering up someone else’s mess after such a short time, but
given the position of the man, he knew he could do it.
“Alright, go ahead” he replied, and Idenu gave him the job.
* * * * * * * * * *
The night life was picking up in the Plaza of the Commons after the riot
of the day. Many sections of the city
were guarded by soldiers, to crush any more resistance before any damage can be
delivered, but not the plaza. It had
more soldiers on duty than a regular night, but commoners still could keep the
Bard's Barrel's traffic alive without being questioned by the militia.
Ksint stood across the bench in the center of the Plaza. At a short distance, the Bard’s Barrel was
full with citizens, cheering up for the defenders. Barbarians,
lot of them, Ksint thought, for applauding the very people who slaughtered
their own. Though, he did not care one bit for them, being one of the few
people Samil planted into the city, he was waiting there tonight for an
entirely different purpose.
He was one of the six people Samil planted into Allanak as slaves of the
militia, who would seek any opportunity to strike at key figures in the city to
create chaos. They were all trained for
years, and this was the perfect opportunity to show their purpose for the
Faithful. None showed itself though, not
until last night.
Last night, after another day of backbreaking work, he was returning to
the slaves' quarter, exhausted. Perhaps
that was the reason to why he could not hear someone sneaking up on him, and
why his combat reflexes failed him in dodging the crushing blow. He was incapacitated with a single blow,
without a chance to fight back.
When he regained consciousness, he was in a dark room, hands and feet
tied and his head was forced to face the wall.
Someone else was in the room, he could hear the breathing clearly. He thought this was the end, he was
discovered and would be tortured to death.
If he breaks, perhaps death would come easier, less painful. But he would not break, he promised to
himself and the Faithful and the Sun King, and readied himself for the
excruciating pain.
Though, things developed in a way he never expected.
His capturer knew him, why he was sent to Allanak and by whom. He knew
how he was planted into the city, as well as each and every one of the servants
of the Faithful that were planted along with him. But still, he did not proceed to torture, or
death threats. He asked the only thing
that could compromise him: Cooperation.
He explained that there are a number of people, important people, that
need to die for the greater good, and they would work towards the same end,
together.
They talked for over an hour in that dark room, Ksint could barely make
it to the slave quarters. When he
finally sprawled over the filthy covers to get some sleep, he found the peace
at last. His first mark was given to
him, Lady Ansche Fale. Ksint could not
ask for more, for he could very well pick her as a target anyway. Now he had someone cooperating with him, who
informed him that Lady Fale would be in Meleth's Circle in the following day
and there would be a commotion which Ksint could take it to his advantage
easily.
And there it happened. Ksint did
not expect the “commotion” would actually be a riot as big as this. He took his timing and joined the crowds,
only to kill his intended target and then disappear. He would not stay in the crowd and risk
getting captured. He doubled back to the
slave quarters, and reported that he ran away as soon as the riot started. The slaves were left alone, as most of the
militia was sent to quell the riots.
Just before the dusk, he slipped out to the city and came to the Plaza
as instructed by his capturer. He would
see him for the first time and get his new target there.
A rotten fruit offered to him brought his attention back to his
surroundings. A small bare-chested child,
so skinny that his ribs could be counted, carried a bag of fruits and offered
one to him. Ksint noticed the child was
a fruit seller, and now he was offering one to him without asking for
coin. He surveyed his surroundings
quickly, before looking back at the child.
“Who sent you kid?”
The child did not reply but looked over his shoulder. Ksint followed his gaze only to meet someone
watching them from the streets stretching to the Stone carver’s road. The man turned quickly and disappeared at the
corner, his cloak whipping with the sudden movement. Ksint roughly pushed the child away and
started walking after the figure. He did
not want to lose him, not when he was so close to see him face to face. He picked up in his speed as he turned the
corner of Stone carver’s. There were
several people on the street here, many more staying in their homes or hiding
away from the militia. Dark red stains
covered the walls and the street here, with broken shards of obsidian and bone
scattered everywhere. Smears of soot
covered some buildings, residue of the fire that was set during the riot. But Ksint paid no attention to them. He saw the man a few blocks away and caught
him slipping into the alleyway, and Ksint found his temper rising. What with playing games like boys, they could
very well ask him to come to the alley.
Heads turned in his direction as he started to walk even faster, he did
not care being spotted or not, he would catch the man and they would walk
together then. He came until the
entrance to the alley and looked in. The
heavy stink of urine washed over him and he could not help but cover his mouth
in disgust. Still he looked on and could
see no one in the darkness. Did he not
see him get in here? Or maybe he walked
into a building next to the alley and his eyes failed him in the dark street? He could not be sure. He looked around, unsure of what to do. The people in the street carried on with their
business: a whore standing by, calling
up at mercenaries and soldiers passing by, militia men walking in pairs
exaggerating their deeds of the day; servants rushing up in the streets
carrying errands.
As he stood there, doubt struck Ksint of what he was doing. Maybe he followed the wrong man here, or
maybe there was no man after all, it could very well be a set up. What if his capturer did not need him anymore
and wanted to get rid of all the witnesses?
“Sir, please… I am so hungry, just a few coins. Sir...” Ksint heard a beggar pleading to a
couple of mercenaries just a few feet away.
The mercenaries looked tired of listening to his bickering, and one of
them roughly shoved him away. The beggar
stumbled away and into Ksint, nearly knocking him off his feet. Reflexively, Ksint tried to balance himself,
but his legs lost their strength as he felt a sharp pain in his chest.
“Nothing personal, but someone paid a lot of coins to see you dead” the
beggar whispered into his ear, and the pain increased as he twisted something
in his chest. The beggar fell sideways,
and Ksint was knocked down on his back.
The world became a blur, and Ksint did not even have strength to cry out
for help. He heard the beggar shouting
curses at the mercenaries as he got up and run away, but he could not make
words. It happened so quick, and so
casual, no one even realized the beggar stabbing Ksint in the heart.
Bony fingers reached out from the alleys and grabbed Ksint by the
shoulders, pulling him into the darkness of the alley before someone could
realize him dying.
Serpent moved down the street, the dagger already slipped into his
wristsheath. It was done well enough,
and so far he did not hear any yells down the street of someone dying. He let out a breath of relief and contacted
to the mind of his man in the alley, who already dragged the corpse in.
“He died in the riot. Make sure
to frame it that way” he sent through the unseen Way, and was comforted at the
thought that his man would not fail him.
* * * * * * * * * *
A light wind was breezing as Lord Cadra walked through the empty city
flanked by his guards. With dawn at
horizon, the streets should have been filled with workers, servants and slaves,
bustling along on a thousand errands.
The cries of vendors should have been heard, coupled with the din of a
thousand trades. Instead, it was eerily
quiet.
Soldiers stood at every corner in small groups, ready to break any
possible riot, Lord Templar Risac’s orders demanded so. The whole city was nervous, and Lord Cadra
felt a prickling suspicion if everyone covered their tracks. The Lady’s killer had been silenced earlier in
the night, and Serpent said he did his part well, otherwise he too would be
charged with treason. Lord Cadra shook
his head slightly at his own thoughts, everything went perfectly as
planned. There was no point in going
over again.
A wind that had been blocked by the rows of houses hit him as he passed in
front of the Trader’s
He strode quickly walking down in the Templar’s path. The flat stones
kept him clear of the sluggish filth of the road below his feet. In all his
life, he never saw so many soldiers guarding every corner of the city. Two soldiers held station at the gates to the
Templar’s quarters, absolutely still in the moonless night. As Lord Cadra and his escorts approached to
the great gates, one of them stepped forward, bowing in respect before
addressing the Lord as well as the escorts.
“My Lord, may I ask what business you have in the Templar’s Quarter?”
“I need to see Lord Templar Risac Valika” Cadra replied. “Where is he?”
The two soldiers glanced at each other for a moment, trying to decide
whether it would be right for tem to volunteer the information. Too tired and impatient to wait for the
soldiers to come to a conclusion, Cadra felt his temper rising.
“I was asked by Lord Valika to come see him before the daybreak. I am here, where is he?”
“The jails, my Lord” the soldier answered. He opened his mouth to say more, but then
thought better of it. He sent a call to
the gates, and resumed his position as the great gates opened. Once again, the soldiers were like twin
statues at the gates.
Lord Cadra moved quickly without a word, passing the gates to the
quarter. He followed the Night’s path
down into the Morning’s road. The wind
was growing in strength as the dawn approached.
Lord Cadra was tempted to start running, but his meaty frame was not fit
for it. The city jailhouse was a small
building. There was no need to have big
jailhouses, as execution and banishment prevented the need for them. The very fact that the Lord Templar would be
in the jails told Lord Cadra what he would find and he prepared to face it
without flinching.
Another pair of soldiers guarded the outer door of the jailhouse. As Lord Cadra approached to them, they nodded
as if expecting him and threw open the locking bars. Lord Cadra’s and his escorts’ cloaks carried
the insignia of House Borsail, and they were not questioned until they reached
to hallway leading to the holding cells.
Three soldiers moved apart as Cadra announced himself and a half giant
jail keeper ran down the hallway. Cadra
waited patiently as he heard his name being announced somewhere, and Risac’s
answering rumble. He was able to smile
when Lord Risac returned with the half giant.
“That is Lord Borsail” Risac confirmed.
“Is there still a threat in the city” Lord Cadra asked, hiding his
tension.
“It is ended. Come along with me,
Lord Borsail, you should be part of this” Lord Risac said.
As he spoke, he wiped sweat from his forehead and Cadra saw a smear of
blood on his hand.
They walked down the hallway, passing several holding cells with no
light coming from within. There was a
sickly wail coming from one of the cells, but they paid no attention to
it. Finally, the half giant jail keeper
opened the doors to one of the cells, and fumbled to put a lit torch in place
to light the room.
There was a sickly smell in the air and at first Lord Cadra tried not to
look at the figures bound to the chairs in the center of it.
“A pity,” Lord Risac said as they both entered into the room. “These creatures named someone called Ksint
as their leader, but they know nothing of the riot or the assassination
otherwise. They would have told us by
now.”
Cadra looked at the men and repressed a shudder at what had been done to
them. Risac had been through and he too
had doubted the men could have held anything back. Four of them lay as still as dead, but the
last rolled his head towards them with a sudden jerk. One of his eyes had been pierced and wept a
shining stream of liquid down his cheek, but the other peered around aimlessly,
lighting up as he spotted Lord Cadra.
“You! I accuse you!” he spat,
then cackled weakly, dribbling blood over his chin.
Lord Cadra fought the rising gorge as he looked down at the broken
bodies of the conspirators.
“He has lost his mind” he said softly, and Risac nodded.
“Yes, though he held out the longest.
They will live long enough to be executed. My soldiers found the body of their leader,
Ksint. Possibly he died during the
riot.” Risac shook his head a few times, before looking at Lord Cadra “I must
thank you, Lord Borsail, for bringing this matter to me. I wish we could have moved in time, but
regardless, we stopped it after all. It
was a noble deed, and worthy of your title” Risac spoke lightly.
Cadra stood silently, trying to gather his thoughts. He could always sport the vicious ending,
though he never saw the brutal ending of a torture so close before.
Risac continued again as Cadra did not say anything “The two of us, we
should work together for Allanak.” His mood lightened as Lord Cadra nodded to
him. “Though, we can talk about it
another time. The stink of this place is
in my lungs. I have to report to the Red
Robes at sunrise and I intend to take a bath before that.”
“Dawn is here” Cadra said and Risac swore softly.
“It is night always in this place.
I am finished with these.”
He gave the orders to the torturers to have the men cleaned and made
presentable before turning back to Lord Cadra.
“I will set the execution for the
The red light of dawn had taken a lighter tint as Lord Cadra and his
guards stepped out of the Templar’s Quarter.
The wind had ceased and the city was awakening late, as the soldiers
were relieved from their posts and the normal tone returned to the city. Away from the sickening scenery of the
jailhouse, Lord Cadra could finally think clearly. The riot was gone, Lady Fale was dead, and
all his tracks were covered. Most
important of all, Lord Templar Risac Valika was his supporter. With Sulach gone, Allanak would be his.
* * * * * * * * * * *
CHAPTER 16
It was dark in the tent and the scribe slave had only a single candle to
give him enough light to write. He sat
in perfect silence as Sulach lay sprawled on a pallet, one arm outstretched to
be bandaged, for he had refused the magickal healing. Sulach grunted as the physician made a knot
and pulled it tight. For a moment, his
eyes opened with pain, and the slave saw they were dim with exhaustion.
The physician left then, letting a blast of air into the stuffy interior
that made the candle flicker. The slave
looked over the words that were recorded, and wished Sulach would sleep. They were all hungry, but the last few weeks had
burned flesh from the commander as much as any other men. His skin was tinged with yellow and there
were dark hollows underneath his eyes that gave him a look of death.
The slave thought The Lord Templar slid into sleep and began to gather
his scrolls to steal away without waking him.
He froze as Sulach scratched at the sweat stains of his tunic and then
rubbed his face.
“Where did I finish?” Sulach asked without opening his eyes.
“Gith mesa. I was writing about
the second battle before the physician came in.”
“Ah, yes. Are you ready to go
on?”
“If you wish it, Master. It might
be better if I left you to get some rest”
Sulach did not respond to that, but rubbed his face.
“We reached the gith mesa soon after the rukkian mage and his escorts
were killed by the gith raiders. Are you
writing this?”
“I am” the slave whispered. To
his surprise, he felt a sting of tears begin as Sulach forced himself on.
“We stormed the camp. I could not
hold the soldiers back after what they saw of the mage’s body, I did not want
to” Sulach paused for a moment to open his eyes and look at the slave directly.
“Fifteen survived us. Record the
truth for me. Out of five hundred gith,
men, women and children, only fifteen could escape us. We burned the entire camp around them and
stripped whatever food or water they have.
Still, I could count the ribs on my soldiers. There were more gith to
fight of course, and Untturi took the command of them. But I am telling you now, without the stores
in the mesa we would have been finished.”
“We routed them over and over whenever we caught them in the open, but many
tribes of the gith joined to Untturi and they outnumbered us everytime. Lieutenant
Zakhis was killed in an ambush in the second week or the third, I can
not remember now. His unit saw him being
dragged off his mount. We did not find
his body.”
Sulach lapsed into silence at the thought of the young Lieutenant. He was a decent man and it had been a great
loss. When he spoke again, his voice
carried his weariness.
“The gith kept gathering in the north and blocking our way through and I
could not break them there.”
The slave looked at Sulach and saw his lips twist in anger. Still, he was lying on his back, his eyes
closed against the candle light:
“We lost two hundred soldiers over these battles, and as the food was
low, I saw my soldiers eat grass until they vomited. Still we destroyed the gith who dared to take
the field against us. Strian, Itina,
Vate, and Kann did well with the banners there, but the numbers…” Sulach fell
silent for a second then.
“I could not cut a path open toward the north there and was forced to
move west, deeper into the tablelands to find a way through. Untturi sent his generals and we fought all
the way while we marched day and night.
I have tried every route possible. I have seen death walk with me.”
“But now you have sent him back toward the gem” the slave dared to add.
Sulach struggled to sit up and leaned over his knees, his head sagging.
“He is gathering more gith by the minute over there, more tribes are
joining him every moment. We starve down
here while he gathers more men to destroy us.”
“You raided enough grain and meat and water in the last battle to feed
the army over a week. The worst is over”
the slave spoke again.
Sulach shrugged so slightly, it could have been a breath:
“Perhaps. Write this for me, we
built fortifications and trenches over three leagues to north. We have built a hill from the earth so great
to allow us build watchtowers on it.
Untturi can not come down here as long as we remain. We have already cut them down in hundreds and
we will cut them down in thousands if need be.
We will stay until we find a way to break Samil in south, or until Samil
comes up here.”
The tent flap was opened and Lieutenant Itina and someone wearing no
uniform came in.
“Lord Templar?” Itina asked.
“I am here” came the voice, barely a whisper.
“The man you wanted, I brought him.
As instructed, no one else knows.”
Lieutenant Itina spoke.
Sulach looked at her with red-rimmed eyes, looking more dead than
alive. He stood, and swayed from exhaustion,
Itina reflexively reached out to help him stand. He reached to the pocket of his robe and
pulled out a sealed scroll. The scribe
slave looked curiously at the paper, as he was not the one writing that one.
The man who dressed up with a simple armor and a bow, stepped forward as
Sulach handed the rolled parchment to him.
“You will give this scroll to the man you are told, and ask him to
deliver to the Lady. He himself must see
to it that it is delivered to her hand alone.
Can you do it?”
The man simply nodded, as he slipped the parchment into his cloak.
“I will ride at full gallop to arrive the city at daybreak my Lord, and
I will simply pass as a regular hunter.”
Sulach nodded wearily at the man’s understanding of the task he had.
“Ride back here as soon as you deliver it.”
The man nodded, slipping out of the tent and into the night. Itina looked at the tired form of Sulach for
a moment, her expression showing her concern.
“What is the plan, Lord Templar?”
“The plan?” Sulach asked sitting
down on his pallet exhaustedly. “We will
crush Samil, and then we will crush his army” he spoke tiredly. His lay down on the pallet, his eyes closing. Itina watched him without moving an inch.
“And then we will go home?” she asked.