The Merchant and the Menace (27 page)

Ellow held Yanwin’s letter before him and bowed
low. Macin was enraged by the interruption but paused to stare at the letter.

‘Others continue the masquerade. Others let you
believe what you will and continue to feed you lies. I must do their bidding.
I’m a mere colonel serving generals. But when the honor of my king and his
family is at stake, I can be silent no longer.’ continued Ellow.

 Macin slid the letter from the colonel’s hand and
slowly opened it. His hands shook as he read the contents. His eyes filled with
rage as he read words of encouragement, loyalty and love. As he read, Ellow
talked on.

‘Brelg’s unit is funneled the best and the brightest.
Other troops go hungry while his unit feasts. Others make due with staff or
bow, while his unit gleams with sword and armor. He boasts that he’s subject to
no king’s laws or power by naming his unit “The Orphans”, no authority binds
him. The people pick up this name and chant it in the streets.

‘He lays claim to your daughter by dubbing her “The
Orphan’s Widow”, and the people chant that as well. Have you seen her? She
hides her face behind a veil for the shame of it. Yet all along there are these
letters. Letters that enthrall her to this man. Your General Staff knew of and
sanctioned these activities. They care not for the honor of my king and his
family.’

Macin’s face boiled red. He crushed the letter,
writhing in spastic contortions. Spinning around he foamed and spit as he
shouted into the hallway.

‘Summon the General Staff!’

 Macin turned wild eyed to Ellow.

“You shall have your post on the General Staff,’ he
whispered. “And I shall have Brelg’s head.’

Brelg’s unit was recalled from the field. Messengers
were sent to demand their return to Zodra within the month. The General Staff
was subject to massive changes. Many of the top generals lost their positions
and were imprisoned in the dungeons of the Hold. Others swore their loyalty to
King Macin but lost his favor and their advice was shunned. Ellow became one of
the king’s most trusted advisors and he spread his lies about the faith of the
people. The black market flourished as Ellow put greater and greater demands
upon the people to produce. Crooked draftsmen drove their wagons out of the
city in groups of ten or twenty bound for the troops in the North. Often, half
of that group arrived, as the remainder filtered back into towns and villages,
reselling goods to the people at inflated prices. Ellow's power and wealth
grew.

Macin’s anger smoldered as he awaited the return of
Brelg. He opened his eyes to his city and didn’t like what he saw. The people
were jubilant with the news of the imminent return of their heroes. For weeks
the women of the city gathered flowers and garland to decorate the gates. As
the return of Brelg and his unit approached, an air of celebration swept the
city.

On the thirtieth day since the decree went out for
the return of ‘The Orphans’, Macin sat on his throne surrounded by his personal
guard and the General Staff.

‘Disobeyed,’ shouted Macin, ‘by my own soldiers. An
example must be made of this unit!’

‘Most assuredly, your highness. This type of thing
will only spread,’ commented General Ellow.

‘Your highness,’ said General Harnax. ‘It’s a long
journey from the foothills around Tar Hdjmir to the halls of mighty Zodra.
Scouts report heavy fighting in that area. A journey of that kind might take a
good deal of time.’

Harnax was one of the few generals to retain his
seat upon the General Staff. He commanded the Guard’s cavalry units and was
considered a brilliant tactician. Harnax was also renown as an honest man. If
he believed a fight was unwinnable, he said so. However, if pressed to join
that fight he complied immediately. His loyalty to king and country went
unquestioned.

‘Brelg’s unit rides the best horse flesh I could
find for them,’ whined Ellow. ‘He should’ve been here days ago!’

‘My colleague has never joined the enemy in battle,’
stated Harnax as he shot Ellow a withering glare. ‘Therefore, I will forgive
his ignorance on this matter. Brelg’s unit is most likely hampered by injury.
Their casualty rate is the highest in the corp. A situation that dramatically
slows any return to Zodra. Additionally, they may ride the best “horse flesh”
when it arrives at the front, but malnutrition and battle fatigue affect horse
and rider alike. Those horses are no better than farm nags at this point. I beg
your majesty to allow the unit more time.’

‘Harnax, you have always counseled wisely.
Therefore, I’ll take your theory to heart and provide you with the task of
proving its validity. You will saddle two of your best cavalry units and depart
Zodra in the morning. You will seek out Sergeant Brelg’s unit. If they deviate
from orders or halt for worldly diversions in some town along the way, you’ll
judge them treasonous and cut them down where they stand,’ declared Macin.

‘But your majesty...’ began Harnax.

‘Harnax! Your place in this assembly isn’t as
secure as you think! Do not follow the lead of your former staff members and
contradict me,’ shouted Macin.

‘Wise counsel, my lord. For treason and treachery
are a disease that spreads,’ returned Ellow as he smiled at Harnax.

‘My lord,’ came a voice from the table.

‘Colonel Wynard, correct?’ Macin asked the broad
shouldered Zodrian.

‘General Wynard, sire, due to your highnesses
gracious promotion,’ the general corrected. ‘May I be so bold as to expound on
General Harnax’s reservations with this course of action.’

‘Do you feel it necessary. Remember your
predecessor, General Sturm, found it necessary to deceive me,’ Macin snarled.

‘I believe that General Harnax has your best
interests in mind,’ said Wynard.

‘Go on,’ sighed Macin.

‘Your son, Prince Manfir, is a lieutenant in that
unit,’ stated Wynard.

‘What?’ screamed Macin. ‘That cannot be! Manfir was
to be assigned to the best unit in the corp. To learn by the side of the
greatest minds this army produces. Sturm swore to me a year ago that he placed
Manfir with such a unit and that the prince progressed tremendously. Treachery
abounds! Harnax, you were here during that meeting, yet said nothing!’

Ellow saw an opportunity. He jumped from his place
and shook a finger in Harnax’s direction.

‘This is how deep it runs your highness! Your most
trusted advisors and friends. They betray this country to its very core,’ he
spun back to the king. ‘Your son, aligned with a troop of outlaws and brigands.
Stealing the wealth of this nation and leaving it defenseless in its hour of
need! A purge is needed, a purge....’

THWACK!

The hilt of Harnax’s sword slammed into the back of
Ellow’s head. The supply general fell into a heap on the marble floor. The
cavalryman stood at the table boiling in suppressed rage. He dropped the sword
at his feet. With clenched fists he moved to within a foot of Macin. The king’s
personal guard drew their weapons but Macin waved them off. Harnax halted.

‘Macin you arrogant, blithering idiot, Manfir was
posted to the best unit in the corp. Brelg and his lot are the greatest troop
level tacticians we employ. “The Orphans” act as this nation’s savior while you
provoke more damage to the corps than any of its enemie,.’ growled Harnax.

The general turned and pointed to four of the
king’s personal guard.

‘You! Fall in beside me and escort me to my
premises at the Hold. I’ll remain under guard there until his Majesty
determines my punishment.’

The aging general marched from the hall, hastily
followed by the four stunned guards. As Harnax strode down the marble corridors
of the citadel, a scout pushed past him and addressed the king.

‘Your Highness, I bring you news,’ shouted the
scout.

‘Out with it!’ demanded Macin as he scowled at the
retreating form of Harnax.

‘Sergeant Brelg and his unit of Guardians approach
the city. They will arrive within the hour.’

‘Excellent. Wynard you will assume control of
Harnax’s cavalry units and station them just outside the gates. I want this
wolf caged before he does any more harm to his country or king. My personal
guard and the General Staff will join me up on the ramparts,’ Macin ordered as
he swept from the room, then added. ‘And somebody attend to Ellow!’

The king and his staff road to the gates of the
city and pushed past the throngs of people moving through the streets. The news
of the units return traveled like wildfire and the excitement was palpable.
Children danced and sang as women braided flowers in one another's hair. Guard
members stationed in the city brushed and straightened their uniforms. Garland
and flowers were strung across the mouth of the gates and strewn before the
entryway. Young men and boys laughed and wrestled calling ‘The Orphans!’ back
and forth to one another.

Everyone Macin passed on his way to the gate, grew
subdued and stopped their revelry. However, once the king was out of sight, their
passion returned twofold. Macin leapt from his horse and climbed the rampart
steps two at a time, followed by his entourage.

The city’s wall was crowded with Guardians both on
and off duty. They immediately snapped to attention at the presence of their
king. Macin moved across an arching causeway that spanned the gate opening.
There he found the sergeant of the guard, Sergeant Deling, and demanded a
report.

‘There’s little to report, sire.’ stated the
sergeant. ‘A half an hour ago several scouts alerted us to the return of one of
our units.’

‘And they haven’t reached the city yet? This Brelg
holds back to build the anticipation of his followers!’ growled Macin.

The king looked down the outer edge of the city’s
walls. Wynard’s cavalry units were stationed on either side of the gate.

‘Wynard!’ called the king. ‘Move your units along
either side of the road. These men will be treated as prisoners not given an
honor guard!’

Wynard barked some orders to his men and
immediately the cavalry swung out in front of the gates, lining both sides of
the road. Macin paced the archway muttering to himself. The General Staff stood
by silently as their eyes scanned the horizon. Ellow returned with a bloody
towel clutched to his head. He scowled at the other staff members as he stepped
in front of the king.

‘A minor flesh wound your highness. I was caught
unaware,’ offered Ellow.

Macin strode past the general distractedly.

‘Yes, yes Ellow. See to it,’ said Macin with a flip
of his hand.

A cry went up from the taller buildings just inside
the gate.

‘The Orphans! The Orphans return!’

The crowd roared in approval and pushed on the
throng crowded just inside the gates. Macin spun and surveyed the horizon.
Several leagues from the gate, the road rose to meet a small ridgeline. Swirling
over that rise, a dust cloud grew. The crowd attempted to push through the gate
and out onto the road. Others climbed the city wall and joined the soldiers on
the ramparts. Macin turned on the sergeant of the guard.

‘You will keep this mob under control or be relieved
of duty, Sergeant Deling!’ barked Macin.

The sergeant saluted and ran down to the gates
ordering the soldiers to move the throng back into the city. The people climbed
to the ramparts cheering. In some cases, soldiers reached down to help women
and children reach the top of the wall. The windows of the buildings were jammed
with wellwishers. A chant of ‘The Orphans! The Orphans!’ was picked up in the
streets and carried to the parapets. The dust cloud grew thicker and larger but
approached slowly. Ellow slid up behind the king’s ear.

‘He intends to bear down on the city in full glory,
your highness. This loafer means to capture the imagination of the people and
steal their loyalty. Supplanting you in their hearts,’ whispered Ellow.

The roar of the crowd was nearly deafening as the
dust cloud came within three hundred yards and shapes emerged from the haze.
They moved slowly. Some on horseback and others walking. Loaded wagons creaked
along amidst the riders and marchers. As the dust cleared, a hush fell over the
roaring crowd.

Brelg led the unit, sitting atop a staggering
warhorse, gaunt from undernourishment. Periodically, the sergeant turned the
beast and ambled back amongst his troops shouting words of encouragement. The
injured filled the wagons. In some cases, eight men shared the tiny carts with
one another. Those marching were the most fit. Cefiz led his warhorse, which
carried a severely injured comrade upon it. Fully two-thirds of the unit were
injured or incapacitated in some way.