Authors: Richard S. Tuttle
Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Young Adult
“The Zaldoni have joined with Grulak?” Vrylok queried with raised brows. “This is fact? What of you? Are you with the Jiadin now?”
“Not I,” declared Brakas. “I could not abide by their decision. And to think I followed Wyant faithfully all these years. To give into the Jiadin without a fight is disgraceful. Now the Jiadin are stronger than ever. Other tribes have joined as well. The Galtok, Madren, and Ublix have joined in the last fortnight. Soon it will be everyone under Grulak’s rule.”
“Not while I live,” Vrylok stated defiantly. “The Chadang will never submit without a fight.”
The leader of the Chadang clapped his hands and the tent flap opened. “Food for our guest,” Vrylok bellowed.
Brakas smiled at his host. “Thank you,” he said. “It has been some time since I have had a good meal.”
“Where are you going?” asked Vrylok. “What will you do?”
“I travel the land,” answered Brakas. “I am no longer Zaldoni.”
“You are welcome to join with us,” offered Vrylok. “We can use a man of your skill when the time comes for us to teach the Jiadin that not all Fakarans will bend a knee to them. Wyant and the others are indeed a disgrace to pledge allegiance to Grulak without a fight.”
“A very tempting offer,” smiled Brakas, “but a more noble calling has my attention now.”
“What is it that you plan to do?” quizzed Vrylok. “Tell me of your plans.”
“I seek to warn all of the remaining free tribes of what the Jiadin are doing,” declared Brakas. “Perhaps if I can find them all, I can arrange for them to unite in opposition to the Jiadin.”
“That is a noble calling indeed,” frowned Vrylok. “And do you plan to lead this assembly of tribes?”
“Not I,” responded Brakas. “I am just a Fakaran trying to save my country from a tyrant. No, I do not seek glory. The tribes are capable of deciding who shall lead them without my help. Perhaps it will be you who shall lead them. The Chadang are very respected among the tribes.”
“Perhaps,” murmured Vrylok. “The tribes do not take well to serving under others.”
“Maybe I can convince them,” offered Brakas. “Do you know where any of them have gone? I shall try to rally them to you.”
“I know where some are,” nodded the Chadang leader. “I will show you on the map after we feast. What news do you have of Grulak himself? Does he stay at Vandegar or does he journey with his army?”
“I only know what I heard Wyant say before I left,” answered Brakas. “The Zaldoni were heading to Vandegar. I presume that means that the Jiadin remained camped there.”
“We have seen the Jiadin across the plains and in the hills,” declared Vrylok. “So not all of the Jiadin are in Vandegar. There have been no sightings of Grulak though or that crazy son of his, Diakles.”
“Diakles is of no concern,” Brakas said. “He knows not how to lead and even less about warfare. I have seen small bands of Jiadin in my travels, but nothing that worries me. Soon though, that will change. When Grulak has gathered enough of the tribes, he will strike to eradicate the rest before turning his attention towards Khadora.”
“He would be a fool to underestimate Khadora,” advised Vrylok. “Their armies are battle trained, not from fighting innocents, but from battling each other.”
“I have heard rumors that he has already allied with some of the Khadoran clans,” Brakas said. “If he pits one clan against another and then leads the tribes into Khadora, that country may well fall quickly.”
“Any Khadoran clan that allied with the Jiadin would be fools,” spat Vrylok. “Grulak’s memory of a alliance is shorter than his knife. He would turn on his allies before the battle was over.”
“True,” agreed Brakas, “but there are fools in Khadora. I believe the rumor to be true.”
“All the more reason he must be stopped then,” Vrylok declared. “The stronger he gets, the more tyrannical he will become. Damn Grulak’s father for wedding that savage girl.”
“Savage girl?” inquired Brakas. “What do you speak of?”
“You have not heard the tales?” the leader of the Chadang asked with raised eyebrows. “He is the spawn of a cross marriage with the savage Qubari.”
“The jungle people?” queried Brakas, “but that is forbidden.”
“Of course it is forbidden,” snapped Vrylok. “And you can see why. It breeds insanity. Some even say that evil spirits are bred by mixing with the Qubari. Nothing good can come of such a union. Look what it has produced. A crazy man at the helm of a giant tribe and a son that is even crazier. Diakles should be killed before he can reproduce. Who knows what another generation will bring.”
“That explains much,” replied Brakas. “Let us eat and then you can show me the map. I wish to continue my journey this evening. I fear I have little time to locate the other tribes.”
Rejji, Bakhai, and Mistake sat astride their horses and gazed at the distant encampment.
“Some great battle was fought here,” Rejji declared. “Do you see anything moving?”
“No,” responded Bakhai. “Nothing but the vultures gathering overhead. We should proceed carefully.”
“The vultures will not attack us,” retorted Mistake.
“No,” replied Bakhai, “but there is a reason they are circling instead of landing and feasting on the dead. Someone must still be alive to keep them at bay.”
“Or several people alive,” added Rejji. “Bakhai is right. We will approach carefully.”
“Why not just go around them?” asked Mistake. “That is the safest plan of all.”
“Lord Marak wants information on the tribes,” reminded Rejji. “A battle this large is of significance. We should try to find out what has happened.”
Rejji drew his sword and started forward. He felt slightly confident of his abilities after training with the Torak, but he knew that his sword and Mistake’s daggers would not save them from any serious attack. Bakhai had joined in the training with Rejji, but he had declined to carry a sword. Rejji did not understand why Bakhai refused, but he wished now that his friend had one.
Nothing moved as they entered the devastated camp. Bodies littered the ground and Rejji saw that there was a few red scarves intermingled with the predominantly blue scarves.
“Jiadin,” he spat.
“And a lot of Chadang,” added Mistake. “They were the local tribe around my village. I wonder what they were doing this far west.”
“Why are their chests all cut open?” asked Bakhai.
“It was probably a fierce battle,” responded Rejji. “Swords can be very sharp. Why did you refuse to carry one?”
“I believe that carrying such a weapon would alienate me from my animal friends,” Bakhai answered. “I am not willing to do that.”
Bakhai jumped off his horse and knelt next to one of the bodies. “I do not think these cuts were blows during battle,” he declared. “This man was obviously killed by that axe in his head, yet his chest is cut open like the others. And something else is strange.”
“What else is strange?’ asked Mistake after a long pause of silence.
Bakhai stood up and gazed around the battle site. “Nothing is alive,” he answered. “Nothing lives and nothing moves and yet the vultures continue to circle. This is puzzling.”
Rejji dismounted and strode to the large tent in the center of the encampment with Mistake following him. They entered the tent and Rejji fought back the urge to vomit. The inside walls of the tent were covered in blood and body parts adorned the cushions on the floor, but the most troubling sight was a man’s head mounted on the shaft a spear which was thrust into the ground.
“That is Vrylok,” Mistake said softly. “He was the leader of the Chadang. What is that stuffed into his mouth?”
Rejji stood with his mouth wide open and shook his head as Mistake stepped forward and pulled the article out of the mouth.
“It is his blue scarf,” Mistake announced as she held it by two fingers. “It is torn in half. I wonder what it means?”
“It means that the tribe is no more,” answered Bakhai from the flap of the tent. “He has been made an example of and left as a remembrance of the power of the Jiadin.”
“How do you know this?” Mistake queried.
“The times I have spent among the human villagers has taught me much,” answered Bakhai. “The old men of the villages are eager to tell tales of old to the children. The children think they are just stories made up by the elders, but I think they are verbal histories handed down from generation to generation. There is much knowledge contained in those stories.”
“I guess so,” muttered Mistake as she looked down at the small table in the center of the tent. “I never paid much attention to them. There is a map here. I think we should take it. It may be of use in finding the Sage.”
“We need to leave this place,” stated Bakhai. “Now.”
“Why the urgency?” questioned Rejji, who had recovered from his state of shock. “If nothing lives then nothing can harm us.”
“I disagree,” frowned Bakhai. “The vultures sense a great evil here. That is why they are circling. They are waiting for this evil to leave, but I doubt it will ever leave. I think something has been stealing the souls of the dead here. That is why the chests are cut open. There is little blood flow around the cuts, which means they were made after death and not all of the corpses have been cut. We need to be well away from here by dark.”
“You mean whatever is doing this is coming back for more?” asked Rejji.
“I think so,” nodded Bakhai. “I do not know anything about these rituals, but I am guessing that something interrupted the gathering of souls. I suspect that it was interrupted by the dawn and will resume at dusk.”
“How can you be sure of this?” questioned Mistake.
“I am not sure of any of this,” responded Bakhai. “Do you think we should stay and test my theory?”
“We do not need to test your theory,” Rejji declared. “There is little for us do here anyway. I do remember Brontos talking of not burying the dead so something could feast on them at night. Whatever it is, we shall be long gone from here. I have already seen more than enough. We will pause only long enough to see what we can find that will be of use to us.”
The trio scrounged around the camp and then mounted and rode eastward. When they reached the Meliban River, they turned and followed it upstream. At dusk they made camp along the banks of the river.
“That was a fine meal Rejji,” Mistake grinned. “Perhaps you should become the permanent cook for our group.”
“That will not work,” Rejji chuckled. “We agreed to take turns and I am sticking to that agreement.”
“I am going to bathe,” Bakhai stated as he rose. “You two fight over the cooking.”
Rejji tossed a twig at Bakhai’s departing form and laughed. When Bakhai was out of sight, Rejji turned to Mistake.
“I think you should contact Lord Marak tonight,” he said softly. “Let him know where we are and what we discovered today.”
“Are you crazy?” Mistake asked. “Do you not realize how far we have come? It would take me weeks to get back there and it is in the wrong direction. I am seeking the Sage and Lord Marak will have to wait for his information.”
“I don’t mean to go there,” frowned Rejji. “I mean with your magic.”
“What magic?” questioned Mistake. “What are you talking about?”
“The Air Tunnel,” Rejji said. “Use it to contact Lord Marak.”
“The Air Tunnel?” repeated Mistake. “What I am supposed to do with that?”
“It allows you to talk to Fardale,” informed Rejji. “That is why they taught it to you. Did you not know?”
Mistake sat quietly staring at Rejji for a while before speaking. “You mean it is magic?” she asked. “I thought it was just a trick for snooping on others. How can I learn magic?”
“Evidently, you have some magical talent,” Rejji said. “Supposedly, that is how you move so fast. They said that you could contact them because you know where Fardale is, but they could not contact us.”
“Why did they not tell me this?” she questioned.
“I don’t know,” admitted Rejji. “Maybe they want it kept secret. I had forgotten that you were not present when Lord Marak explained it to me. I think we should keep your abilities a secret between us. Will you try it?”
Mistake nodded but sat silently for a while. After a short period of time she growled. “They were using it to spy on us,” she announced. “That is why they did not tell me fully about it. If I understood its potential range, I would probably have detected them listening in. How dare they!”
“How dare they?” repeated Rejji. “Why shouldn’t they listen in? They have done everything for us and we have done nothing for them. Is it wrong for them to know if we intended to honor our agreements? In fact, thinking back on our conversations, I am surprised at their generosity. We have never really talked openly of actually doing anything to help them. Still they are gambling that we will.”
“I guess you are right,” Mistake admitted as she recalled their conversations prior to leaving Fardale. “I guess I would do the same in their position. At least the listening part,” she chuckled. “Not sure I would have handed over my gold and the horses.”
“One thing I learned during my stay at Fardale,” Rejji declared, “is that the people there love him and believe him to be sincere in wanting to help people. I could do much worse for a role model. I intend to honor our agreement after we find your Sage.”
“As long as we find the Sage, I will help you honor it,” agreed Mistake. “The Sage is my only goal in life. After that, we do what you want to do.”
Mistake removed the map she had obtained at the battle site and determined approximately where they were. She pictured where she thought Fardale would appear on the map and started casting the Air Tunnel. Nothing happened and she slowly moved the Air Tunnel further south. She could not make a connection by the time Bakhai returned, so she excused herself and went to the river to continue trying in privacy.
Rejji and Bakhai sat talking until the fire died to embers and Bakhai settled down to sleep. Rejji was about to go find Mistake when she appeared from the woods. Her face sported a large grin and Rejji did not need to ask if she had been successful.
“It will be easier next time,” she whispered as she passed Rejji and settled down for the night.