A Warrior's Path Page 16

  But rest did not come when they arrived. Many of the captain's men groaned internally as they were sent out to collect whatever would assist in the building of a semi-permanent camp for the general and his forces. Some went to work felling a small group of trees for the necessary timber, while others hunted for food. Komeris had small groups sleep in shifts as the majority of the camp readied the site for the imminent arrival of the imperial soldiers. By the ninth day, the camp was beginning to take on a more finished look, and the captain eased up on the workload.

  It was just after midday, and many exhausted soldiers were resting and waiting, when a startled cry rang out from the edge of camp. Though they were tired from the labors of the past several days, every warrior rushed, weapon in hand, toward the sound. As they approached the line of trees that marked the entrance to the forest, they slowed cautiously and fanned out.

  The young diplomat Su-Ni lay motionless on the path into the wood. A figure, cleverly camouflaged in forest colors, stood over her, shifting purposefully as if to make itself noticed. It was the Shionen elf Tilon, and as the warriors realized his concealment, so did they also see a line of elven archers stretching out as far as could be seen on either side of him. Though they stood as still as statues under the overhang of the canopy, their intent seemed clear as they held every arrow-cocked bowstring taught and took aim at a human.

  While all of his warriors stood tense and ready for a fight, Komeris stepped forward, weapon down. “What is the meaning of this, friend? Have we offended in some way?” he asked pleadingly.

  “Friend?” came the cold response. “I think you use that word too lightly, or perhaps you do not know its meaning. Friends have need for deception?”

  “Tell me, Tilon, in what way have we deceived you? I do not understand.”

  The elf shot him a dangerous scowl. “Do not feign ignorance with me, human. It is a game your race plays all too well, but I am not fooled. A thousand warriors now approach our location from the east. They come to join with you, no doubt, trampling the forest as they go, causing almost as much destruction as you have here.” He waved angrily at the fresh stumps that had once supported healthy trees. “Do not say you know nothing of this.”

  Komeris nodded and sheathed his weapon before he answered. “Yes, Tilon, I did know of their approach, but only after our last meeting. A rider was sent to us with a message to return here and arrange a camp for the arrival of the soldiers led by our general. I say to you truly that I was as surprised as you to discover this.”

  The captain's voice was sincere and Tilon's scowl softened for a moment. He was now not so much angry as cautious. “Why do they come?” he asked.

  “Why do you not ask them yourself?” a melodic voice called from deeper in the forest. Marui emerged from a grouping of trees and stepped down the path toward Tilon. “As you should have done before you took this action.” She indicated the archers with a look of disappointment.

  Tilon turned to look at her, then back to Komeris. The air thickened with a tense silence. The elf's face was blank, his expression washed away in a wave of uncertainty. It was he who broke the spell, holding up his hand and calling out in Shionen. Many of the humans flinched at this, but it became clear that the order was to withdraw as the archers dissolved back into the forest. Tilon knelt. “Do not be afraid,” he said quietly to Su-Ni. “You may rise.”

  Komeris heaved a relieved sigh when he saw the diplomat rise unharmed. He noticed that Tilon glanced at him as he did so. The captain had momentarily forgotten how well elves could hear and realized that his sigh had likely been interpreted for what it was.

  As if he could hear the captain's very thoughts, the elf nodded. “Yes, captain, she is not harmed. I am not as hasty as you might think, merely wary. I know you are not equipped with the ability to hear them, but your countrymen approach. They shall arrive momentarily, and then we shall find out what your true purpose is.”

  “I assure you, Tilon, it will be as enlightening to me as it will be to you,” Komeris replied.

  Men and elves stood silently in their places as they waited for the general to appear. Minutes dragged on uncomfortably while the human warriors strained to hear what the elves already could. Eventually, the rhythmic sound of armored feet marching in time seeped through the light rustle of the leaves in the gentle wind. The sound grew steadily until it drowned out all else.

  To Komeris, who had been straining to hear like the rest of his men, each echoing footfall became a deafening boom. He almost despaired to hear it. It had been many years since that sound had been heard by any in the empire, and all of the warriors who were old enough to remember stood in apprehensive awe of its implications. Any who had not wondered at the purposes behind their mission before, wondered now.

  A call rang out over the thunderous march, and at once all was silent. Tilon turned to face the forest, presumably to wait for the appearance of the general, but Komeris noted how he cocked his head sideways and looked up to the trees. The captain knew that the elven archers were still watching, hidden among the boughs of the forest. Boldly, he stepped across the grassy space between his men and the opening from which the elf watched the foliage. Next to Tilon stood Marui and behind them, Su-Ni, who was not watching the forest, but the approach of Komeris with eyes full of trepidation. The captain nodded to her reassuringly as he passed and looked to the path for the first sign of movement.

  He did not have to wait long before that sign came. Around the bend came the reflection of the sun off a well-polished bronze helmet. Etrusin and two other soldiers stepped their way toward the awaiting party. He and his two men trod unflinchingly on until they were not more than a meter from where the captain stood and quite abruptly halted.

  “Hail, captain, report,” the general said, not acknowledging the elves' presence at all.

  Komeris bowed. “General, it is fortunate your messenger caught up with us when he did. We had not yet sent riders to the north and south. But...” he trailed.

  “But?” Etrusin prompted.

  The captain looked away. “We sent a small party up one of the peaks. Not everyone returned. We've lost four good men,” he said with sincere disappointment.

  The general gave an understanding nod. “Well, now we have a new mission. Do not worry yourself with the events of these past days, for much larger concerns await us,” he ordered.

  “Indeed,” cut in Tilon with an inquisitive tone. “What sort of concerns might you be referring to, general?”

  The general glanced briefly at Tilon, then back to Komeris. “Captain, introduce me to our guest.”

  Tilon stepped in front of Komeris who stood open-mouthed to answer the general. “I will introduce myself, general. I am Tilon Enshei and a warrior as well among my people, the Shionen, who have been your patient hosts for these past several days. While you are in our forest, you are a guest of the elves, and it is only because you are guests that you have not all already felt the bite of an elven arrow.”

  “Tilon!” snapped Marui.

  Komeris took this opportunity to step in front of Tilon and stretch out his hand, indicating that Etrusin should walk with him. As Marui and Tilon argued in Shionen, the captain and the general headed down the path from whence Etrusin and his men had emerged. “General, do not take Tilon's seemingly threatening nature to heart,” Komeris began to explain. “He is terse, but not without reason. He is simply concerned for the safety of his people and his home. All of this activity is leaving him a bit shaken. Honestly, sir, I cannot say he is the only one. I am not one to question you or the emperor, but what is going on? I believe we all should know.”

  The general nodded. “Yes, Komeris, I will explain everything, but for now I have many tired warriors who are in need of a decent camp. Let me move them out of the forest. Then, I will brief you all on the situation.”

  12. Plans

  In a small room hidden away in the corner of the castle in Niele'itio, three figures sat around a small table with meals
set before them. On the center of the table lay a drawing of some mechanical invention. Though the food was hot and sent twisting tendrils of delicious scent into the air, those at the table seemed more intent on a collection of carefully placed lines upon paper.

  General Vethisir gave a perplexed grimace to the large parchment on the table and looked back at his king. “What is this thing called again?” he asked.

  Orbein looked over to Agucho. “A catapult,” the shapeshifter answered with some measure of annoyance.

  “Cat-ah-poolt...” the general repeated intelligently. “And how is it supposed to help us?”

  The king frowned at Vethisir, drawing an apologetic stare. “It is a weapon, you dolt. A weapon of the grandest scale. Upon this catapult you may place a mass of flaming pitch and hurl it into the ranks of your enemies, or heavy stones to topple their towers.”

  “I see,” Vethisir said, though it was plain that he didn't. His confused expression was replaced quickly, however, by one of surprise as a piece of food flew into his face from across the table. He glared dangerously at the Fiu-Het, who was loading another morsel onto his fork to further demonstrate the physics of siege weaponry.

  Orbein grimaced. “Enough!” he yelled. “This weapon will be instrumental in our victory. I have explained our plans to your men, and they are eager to carry them out. They may start by working with my assistant on the construction of this catapult.”

  Vethisir held his breath for a moment. “Sire, will it be necessary for him to be present? My men are frightened of him. I fear it may interfere with their ability to work,” he said, speaking of Agucho as though he were not even present.

  King Orbein laughed. “What sort of womenfolk are you training out there? If they are scared, all the better. The sooner they complete this project, the sooner they will be done dealing with him, for a time. Contrary to what you think, I believe Agucho's presence will be an excellent motivation!”

  The general responded by scowling resentfully.

  “I advise you and your men to grow accustomed to the shapeshifter's appearance, else I fear you will all be in for a rude awakening,” he said threateningly.

  Vethisir swallowed nervously. “Yes, sire,” he sulked.

  Orbein nodded. “You are dismissed.”

  The shapeshifter and the king watched general Vethisir rise ungracefully and give a flustered salute before hurriedly making his exit. Orbein watched him go with absent amusement, then looked back to the scroll with the catapult design drawn upon it. He brooded quietly for several moments, and Agucho simply watched him, waiting for words that he knew would come. Eventually the king blinked and looked over to his shapeshifting servant.

  “Agucho.”

  “Yes, sire,” The Fiu-Het replied.

  “I know that this has been a difficult time for you. I would like to give you the opportunity to take some time to go back to your people,” Orbein said.

  Agucho cocked his head, and the folds on his brow deepened in the closest thing to a skeptical expression for a Fiu-Het. “Sire?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

  The king looked to the shapeshifter with seemingly sympathetic eyes. “They do not know of the death of their prince, and you have yet to report back to them. They are likely getting concerned about both of you.”

  Agucho's sticky tongue curled around his eyeballs absently. “Yes. Yes, I suppose I should go and tell them what has happened.”

  Orbein smiled. “Yes, you should. And how it happened. Your poor prince. I shudder to recall it. The shape he was in just before... I can't imagine what they did to him.” He shook his head as though forcing the image away.

  The distant stare in Agucho's eyes left, and his pupil dilated as he refocused on the king.

  “Ah,” the king continued, “but I am sorry. It must pain you even more to think of it. The horrible things that must have befallen him. I am sure your people will be very saddened by his loss.”

  The Fiu-Het's features began to twist dubiously. “Saddened and angry, highness. I assure you, they will not look well on the circumstances of his death.”

  Orbein nodded. “Yes, nor should they! The death of your prince has not only proven that there are violent savages beyond the mountains, it has also given us further inspiration to go conquer them, destroy them, grind them beneath our heel.”

  “This you already wanted to do,” Agucho stated matter-of-factly.

  “True, but now there is more, and not just for me. You heard Gayossha. He said you must fight. Kill the enemies of your people. You can fill your bellies on the entrails of our mutual foes,” the king explained.

  Agucho looked away, hiding his amusement at the king's misconception. If a Fiu-Het had ever actually filled their bellies with human entrails, he would become violently ill, perhaps even fatally. The race of shapeshifters was mostly herbivorous, but their unique ability to radiate fear, to emanate waves of horrifying imagery, propagated the myth that the Fiu-Het liked to feed on the other intelligent races. But Agucho was not about to tell the king that.

  Orbein smirked, mistaking the turned head for embarrassment. “Do not be ashamed. Does it make your mouth water to think of all the men you will kill?”

  The Fiu-Het nodded as convincingly as he could. “Although we prefer to watch you kill each other, as you seem to enjoy doing so frequently,” he added.

  Orbein nodded. “I see,” he said, pausing for a moment to think. “Listen, Agucho, your people are going to be angry about this, as you have said. I think you should heed your prince's advice and lead them here to stand beside my army. March together with them to claim our vengeance upon the murderers of Gayossha and of my own ancestors many generations before. Our two peoples will comprise an unstoppable force. Separately we will be an easy victory, but together...together we will conquer.”

  Agucho nodded slowly. “Perhaps.”

  “Go, Agucho. Go to your people. When you tell them what has happened they will want retribution, and you will see that my proposed solution is the only way.” The king's voice lowered and he muttered something imperceptible, then, “Go, Agucho. Tell them.”

  The shapeshifter's focus suddenly shifted again, and he was staring to some faraway place. When he responded, his voice sounded monotone and as distant as his gaze. “Yes, highness, I will tell them.” He then rose mechanically and exited the room.

  “Indeed,” the king muttered to the empty air. With this he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small patch of fabric that closely resembled Agucho's rags and twisted it onto his little finger with a piece of cord. He chanted quietly and waved several gestures over the makeshift ring. Upon finishing, he looked back to the catapult scroll. “The circumstances of my victory have been set in motion,” he whispered.

  * * *

  The lone candle cast a dim light within Etrusin's dark tent. It was midday, but the thick canvas blocked out most of the sun's brightness, leaving the general to sit in the faint glow of the flickering flame. He stared silently down toward the table before him but not at it. He seemed to be deep in thought, perhaps even meditation. On the table lay an incomplete map of the area, but its details, few though there were, could not be made out in the shadows. Etrusin, however, saw them all in his mind's eye. He even saw some detail that was not there. Always his attention was drawn west, to the mountains. He was filled with apprehension at the seemingly endless line of peaks, though he could not say why. He simply sat and stared, hoping the map would reveal some great secret to him.

  The brightness within the tent suddenly increased dramatically, and Etrusin squinted toward the source. One of the flaps had been pulled aside and in stepped Komeris. “Hail, general, you wanted to see me?” the captain asked.

  The general nodded. “Please, come in,” he said.

  Komeris closed the flap, plunging them into obscurity until their eyes readjusted. Etrusin began lighting some more candles and a lantern, which brought the ambient light to a comfortable level. When he was done, he leaned back in his seat
again and adopted a reflective pose. “Is everything alright, sir?” the captain asked.

  Etrusin looked up at Komeris and indicated the seat across from him. “Sit,” he offered. Komeris did so and watched his general attentively. After several moments of silence, his commanding officer spoke again. “Captain, what do we know about the mountains?”

  Komeris stared blankly for a moment, then responded, “Nothing much, really. To my knowledge we have never explored them successfully.” He looked down soberly, thinking of the terrible loss from his previous mission.

  “Komeris,” Etrusin began gently, knowing the captain's disappointment, “you must not dwell on the events of the past. It was not your fault. You could not know the fate those men would meet when you sent them up there.”

  Komeris nodded. “I know that. I do, but it has been a long time since I have been called upon to serve the empire. I feel like I have failed the emperor and you...I especially failed those men who were lost.”

  The general gave a sympathetic smile. “Yes. Unfortunately, that is sometimes the cost of leadership, but you mustn't let it interfere with your duty.”

  Komeris nodded. “Yes, sir. You are right, of course,” he said sincerely, understanding his commander's wisdom.

  “Are you ready to go back, then?” Etrusin asked.

  “What do you mean?” Komeris replied cautiously.

  “According to the emperor's visions, the threat to our people comes from the mountains, or somewhere beyond. With this knowledge, we would be foolish to remain ignorant about those areas. I need you to continue your exploration, Komeris. Take some soldiers, a small contingent. Go out and see if you can spy our enemy. Go quickly, but the moment you encounter danger, run. Leave the fight for our army. You must survive to return and tell us what is out there,” the general explained.

  Many uncomfortable minutes passed silently as Komeris processed the general's request. After much shifting, the captain finally spoke. “I will do as you command, sir, but should we be engaged I will not leave without all of my men.”