Young Lord of Khadora (8 page)

The Marshal of Fardale walked out of the study trying to choose which squad he would send to their death. Getting the defenses ready would occupy his mind and keep the rest of the men from brooding on what they all knew would happen to the squad sent out. He had actually proposed the reinforcements to Lord Marshal Grefon in the hopes that the Lituk Valley men would not be aware of what waited for them when they left for the Valley of Death, as the Fardale men had been calling it.

The squad of yellow and green clad soldiers rode hesitantly into the Sitari Valley. The Squad Leader discussed the available options with his men and they decided to try to draw the Chula out after them instead of sacrificing their lives for the Situ Clan. Their orders were to arouse the Chula into attacking and no one mentioned the need for the squad to commit suicide. The Squad Leader decided to sneak into the heart of the valley and then raise a ruckus as they galloped back out. Hopefully, the Chula would be incensed enough to chase them all the way home to the Fardale mansion.

The members of the squad were jumpy and every sound caused someone to shout or cry out. The Squad Leader cursed under his breath as he gave up hope of sneaking into the heart of the valley. The musty smell typical of a fargi forest hung over the trail and even the horses seemed to sense death all around the party. The Squad Leader decided that the center of the valley was too great a risk to take and set his new goal at the small clearing where the last group of men had been slaughtered. From the description given to him by Togi, the one lumberman to escape the massacre, the Squad Leader knew he was close and they could turn around soon. He hoped the cat people would chase them as he had no stomach for making this trip again.

The Squad Leader saw the slight notches on the fargi trees and looped around the clearing so his men would have room to turn around. As soon as he started heading back out of the clearing, he saw them. Six nearly naked men with spears sat upon tigers blocking the trail back home. The Squad Leader could not imagine how they had gotten into position to block the trail without anyone hearing them. They were only about six horse lengths behind the last rider in the column. The horses reacted to the presence of the tigers and tried to back away. The other soldiers finally saw the barbarians and their large cats and started cursing.

The Squad Leader looked frantically left and right for more of the Chula and breathed a sigh of relief that they were only facing six of them. He waited for his men to regain control of their horses as the barbarians just sat there. It suddenly dawned on the Squad Leader that there might be more Chula on the way and he must act quickly if he was going to survive. He shouted the order to charge at the top of his lungs and started forward to give his men the start they needed. He immediately halted his own horse as the first of his men went racing past him towards the barbarians.

Smug that he did not need to lead the charge, the Squad Leader watched in horror and fascination as several twirling masses of light lanced towards his group from the bushes. The masses of light flattened and transformed into blue-white blades twirling around a center. Even as he watched his lead men going down with barbarian spears in their chests, he saw the whirling blades slice through their first victim. The blades sliced cleanly through clothing, flesh and bones. Even then, the blades continued on to their next victim. More of the twirling blades came flying out of the bushes surrounding the clearing. The last thing the Squad Leader saw was the growing pile of body fragments, both human and equine, as the whirling blades slashed into his chest.

* * *

A shout rang out from the main gate to the Fardale estate and Marshal Garouk ran out of the mansion with Lord Lashendo close behind. They stood on the porch and watched a lone horse trot through the gate and head for the stables. Marshal Garouk needed no confirmation of the meaning of the returning horse. The animal’s back was covered in blood, the blood of its rider, no doubt.

“It is started, then,” Marshal Garouk declared. “Now we shall wait.”

“When do you think they will attack?” queried Lord Lashendo.

“I doubt they have the ability to strike quickly,” mused the Marshal. “It is close to sundown now. I think we should expect them in the morning if they can get it together that quickly. If not tomorrow, certainly the next day.”

“Well, I shall be sure to find my bed early this evening then,” chuckled Lord Lashendo. “I do not want to miss this massacre.”

“That is an excellent idea,” remarked Marshal Garouk. “I will check our defenses one more time and leave an order for an early wake up.”

A pair of kittens wandered through the main gate of Fardale while everyone’s attention was focused on the bloody horse. They didn’t wander aimlessly, nor did they walk across the open stretch of ground before the mansion. Instead, they hugged the wall single file until they reached an old shed and found entry through a damaged wall board. They climbed among the garden implements until they found a high shelf with sufficient room to lie down. There they curled up and went to sleep.

The sun set and gradually more and more of the Situ Clan went to sleep. After a time, the only yellow and green warriors who were awake were those on guard duty. The kittens rose and stretched lazily. Casually, they leaped down from the perch and split up, each taking a different path into the dark night.

One kitten walked around the mansion, avoiding the guards at the doors, until he found the smell of the kitchen and leaped up onto the window ledge. The kitchen was dark and empty and the cat jumped easily to the floor. With an extremely small flash of light, the kitten transformed into a young Chula shaman. The shaman looked around the kitchen and plucked a large meat cleaver from the worktable and padded to the doorway that led to the rest of the mansion. Silently, keeping in the dark, the shaman made his way out into the hallway and began his search for the Lord of the estate.

The shaman wasted no time examining rooms where the doors were placed close together. The Lord’s suite was obvious as there was no other door nearby at all. He gently turned the handle of the door and stepped into the empty sitting room. After a few moments, he found Lord Lashendo asleep in his bed. The shaman did not require the meat cleaver for his task as he had other methods of killing his foe, but the warning had promised that those who sent the next invaders would have their blood flowing upon the ground.

Ever since the Chula had given their warning, scouts, in the form of cats, had kept watch on the estate. The Chula knew who the Lord was and the location of the officers with plumes who commanded the soldiers to invade the Sitari Valley. This shaman’s other targets included the officer with plumes of green and yellow and the officers with the green plumes who lived in a separate building. The other shaman would make the rounds of the barracks, eliminating all of the officers with yellow plumes.

The shaman quickly located Marshal Garouk and left the meat cleaver behind as he once again took the form of a kitten. Dashing through the corridors and hallways as quickly as his four little feet could carry him, the shaman leaped out of the kitchen window and made his way to the building of the green plumed officers. This time the shaman used one of the officer’s swords to decapitate his victims. Having completed his task, the shaman paused and wondered if his partner needed any assistance. He gazed out the window and saw her in the form of a kitten heading back towards the shed. Quickly, he transformed himself and followed her.

At the shed, the kittens transformed themselves into tigers and leaped to the top of the shed. Together they let out a mighty roar and waited for the guards to notice them before leaping onto the wall and jumping down to make their escape. Part of their mission for this night was to make sure the Situ knew who had struck this night and why. Having accomplished their mission, the tigers ran towards the Sitari Valley to report to the others.

The guards noticed the tigers, but their eagerness to chase the tigers into the dark night was nonexistent. One of the guards ran to inform the Marshal about the sighting and ran into the first bit of evidence that the Fardale branch of the Situ Clan was without leadership. Within moments every member of the Situ Clan in Fardale who was capable of waking was awake.

* * *

Marak’s mother, Glenda, stood at the edge of the orchard, apart from the gathered soldiers, watching the ceremony. Lord Marshal Grefon had given the order which excused her from the fields for the short duration needed to attend. Marak stood on the porch in front of Lord Ridak and Lord Marshal Grefon to receive the yellow plume, which marked him a Cortain in the Situ Army. The presentation was short but very solemn. Attaining the rank of Cortain was considered a lifetime achievement and all of the soldiers not on duty were in attendance. Lord Marshal Grefon had already announced the retirement of Cortain Koors with a glowing speech for his long years of service.

As soon as the ceremony was over, Glenda returned to her duties in the field. Marak had arranged to meet with her each evening and would not otherwise interfere with her duties. After congratulations from the soldiers in attendance, Cortain Marak called a meeting of his new Corte. Botal had been quietly elevated to the position of Squad Leader in the Lord Marshal’s office and had taken over command of Marak’s old squad. Squad Leader Tagoro had long followed Marak’s lead in training his men and the purpose of the meeting was to bring Squad Leader Rybak into line with Marak’s philosophy.

The Lord Marshal was correct in his assessment of Rybak and the Squad Leader welcomed his new Cortain with open arms. Any thought of allegiance to Koors was dead and Rybak was falling over himself to praise the leadership skills of his new superior. Rybak’s men seemed genuinely interested in learning and training with the other two squads and the meeting was over quickly. Marak’s Corte was officially off the duty roster for the next two weeks in order to provide him with time to work the three squads into a cohesive unit. Marak ordered Tagoro to lead the three squads to their private practice field and begin integrating Rybak’s squad into the training sessions.

Marak left his men to their practice and went to Lord Marshal Grefon’s study.

“Yes, Cortain Marak,” greeted the Lord Marshal. “What is it?”

“Lord Marshal,” Marak began, “I was wondering if you have any books about the Chula. As long as we have two weeks to prepare, I would like to read about their fighting style and weapons, if that is possible.”

The Lord Marshal laid his papers on the desk and gave Marak an appraising gaze. He never had another Cortain show such initiative about studying an enemy’s methods and wondered if Marak was just trying to impress the Lord Marshal with his industriousness. Grefon stood and walked to one of his bookcases. He quickly selected a volume entitled
Indigenous Peoples of Khadora
and handed it to the young Cortain. It was a volume he had read himself, just recently, and he planned to take the wind out of the young Cortain’s sails. If Marak thought that Grefon would show him any favoritism because of this trickery, he would soon find out the opposite was true. Lord Marshal Grefon had been dealing with soldiers like Rybak for many years and he did not need to have another one.

“Try this, Cortain,” smiled the Lord Marshal. “It does not contain much on the Chula, but I think you will find it interesting. Make sure you return it before you leave for Fardale.”

“Thank you, Lord Marshal,” replied Marak. “I will make sure it is returned quickly.”

Grefon smiled as the young Cortain walked out of the study. He had no doubt that the book would be returned soon, unopened. Cortain Marak would soon find out that buttering a Lord Marshal was not as easy as it looked.

Marak took the book and went to the private practice field. He sat under a sevemor tree and watched the men practice for a while and then started reading. As the Lord Marshal predicted, he found the book fascinating. There was not a great deal written about the Chula and Marak quickly devoured that section. The one part of the text about the Chula, which really struck him, was a suspicion that the cat people used a type of magic that was unknown in Khadora. The author made light of these suspicions, but Marak wondered if there could be other types of magic.

Instead of putting the book aside, he found himself reading about other indigenous peoples including the bird people who were called Omungans and lived beyond the Kalatung Mountains, which were not far south of Stony Brook. The very fact that his eight-pointed metal disc weapon was called an Omunga Star made him read the section. The author explained why the Omungans were called bird people. They did not resemble birds in any way, in fact, they appeared quite human. What was different about them was the fact that they rode on extremely tall and fast birds. The author claimed that the birds were actually faster than a horse and stood about ten feet tall. The Omungan warriors used a variety of weapons, but it was the Omunga Star, which was thrown even while mounted, that captured Marak’s interest. He completed the section on the Omungans, paying particular attention to the odd weapons they used and their tactics.

Marak looked up briefly at the practicing warriors and was pleased with the way Rybak’s men were fitting in. He turned back to his book and started reading about the Fakarans, or spider people, who lived beyond the Fortung Mountains far to the East. Less was known about the Fakarans than either the Chula or Omungans and the section was short. Marak did read that the Fakarans used two-handed swords with a double edge, carried in sheaths on their backs and wondered if that was where the sword he purchased had come from. There was a reference to stories about the Fakarans getting the name ‘spider people’ from the fact that they rode on large spiders, but the author openly laughed at the stories. The author claimed to have visited the Fakarans and not seen any evidence of large spiders.

Again Marak looked up and noticed that the men were quitting for the day. He gazed at the sinking sun and couldn’t believe that he had been reading all day. The men waved and nodded to him as they filed past to grab a quick dip in the icy cold stream. Marak picked up his book and decided to read just a bit more while the men bathed.