Authors: John Buttrick
Daniel ignored them. “Simon, you seemed to have anticipated my plans and arranged things to the point where I have nothing more to do tonight. You are all creative and resourceful people and it’s a rare pleasure for me to just sit back, close my eyes, and listen while you all wrestle with the problems for awhile.”
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Standing oil lamps provided the light. General Jathem Tallen sat at the head of the conference table in the command center at Fort Casum. The log fort was the first of twenty he ordered built since arriving. Each of the hill forts had a log wall and was manned with two hundred fifty cavalrymen in addition to seventy-five support personnel from the regular army. The compound included a mess hall, barracks, supply depot, command center, smithy, signal tower, and stable. The forts were ten spans apart, stretching east and covering two hundred spans of border. In between each fort was a line of signal towers, each equipped with kettle drums and a huge light, similar to those used in lighthouses. Messages could be relayed either by beating rhythms or a sequence of flashes. The light was generally used at night and the drums during the day, but the decision which to use lay with the sender.
Jathem glanced at Sir Laurence Dugan, seated on the right side of the table beside Sir Carlo Bencofer. Dugan had a touch of gray in his hair that served to make him appear distinguished rather than just a man on the other side of his middle years. Jathem could see the man was fit, as was the much younger Knight beside him.
Bencofer was in his late thirties with dark hair and brown eyes. His mustache was neatly trimmed. In fact everything about him was neat. The Royal Knights of the Realm were all dressed in their field uniforms, except for the helmets. No one wore head gear at the table.
Seated on the left side of the table were Sir William Bonner, tall and thin with about as much gray as Dugan, and Sir Tomas Zollaf,
a rugged man with a weathered face. Word was, Zollaf devoted twice as much time patrolling the kingdom than did his brother Knights of the Realm, and seeing him up close caused Jathem to believe it. The man clearly spent a great deal of time exposed to the elements.
At the opposite end of the table sat General Sanfred Malcus,
a lean, gray-haired man, who commanded the Northwestern Legion, and who was older than Jathem. Sanfred had stopped shaving since leaving the capital and now sported a neatly trimmed white beard.
Sir Laurence was shaking his head. “I tell you San, these were professional soldiers we encountered. Fifty riders stormed the town and we caught up with them half
a span from the border.”
Malcus sniffed. “But can you be sure? Bandit gangs are not unheard of and some of them do have numbers that high.”
Jathem did not need convincing. The report was much the same along the entire range and similar to what Captain Johannan told him of his own encounter shortly before the current meeting. This was not the first patrol to make the observation. The only differences were the amount of horsemen and the involvement of a Royal Knight of the Realm, whose testimony is not so easily shrugged off.
Laurence shook his head again. “No, they fought like trained cavalrymen, matching us nearly man for man in skill. When the fighting was over, eight of the raiders got away, forty-two lay on the ground, and each one of them fought to the death. Forty-five of my men were wounded, of which thirty-three died. I have no doubt we were facing the Sutten Guard, Pentros
a’s elite fighting force.”
Malcus finally nodded his head. “I do not doubt what you say, Sir Laurence, I just wanted to be sure of the facts. Still, we can only speculate the raiders were of the Sutten Guard, we have no tangible proof. If only you had been able to take some prisoners, then we could question them. Until then I cannot buy into your conclusion.”
Jathem leaned forward. It felt wonderful not having any aches and pains. Daniel Benhannon had banished them, a mere side affect of the miraculous healing he had performed. At sixty-seven, Jathem had the strength and stamina of a man in his twenties. Malcus was being unusually stubborn and it was time to find out why. “San, you seem to be having a problem accepting the facts.”
General Malcus lifted his hand from the table and pointed at his host. “You understand the ramifications as well as
I. An accusation like that will have us on the brink of war.”
Sir Carlo was shaking his head. “I don’t believe it would come to that.”
Sanfred turned to the Knight. “No, perhaps it is because you seem to have forgotten our journey? Allow me to refresh your memory. Xavier refused to travel faster than a trot and insisted on stopping every two marks, for an entire mark, and then demanded we stop and set up camp three marks before nightfall. The escort took twice as long as it should have, but we had no choice but to accommodate him. He is not a reasonable man and is known to have dreams of redrawing the borderline.”
Sir Carlo swiped his hand through his hair, front to back, and took a deep breath, “Oh, you need not remind me. The man loves his comforts. One would think the death of his older brothers would be a good enough reason for has
te, but such was not the case.”
“When we met General Kall at the border, he told us of the death of King Jarred, and then bowed to the prince. Xavier is the King of Pentrosa now, his coronation when he reaches the capital is only a confirmation of the fact. Pentrosan border guards crossing over and causing trouble, as we originally suspected, is one thing, but what you are suggesting Laurence and you Jathem, is worse. Kall is the commander of the Sutten Guard and has two legions, twenty thousand men just across the border from mine. For him to be sending men across the border implies he has either gone rogue or is following orders. If he is involved and is acting on his own, it could mean civil war in the north with the elite soldiers following Kall and the regular enlisted men siding with Xavier. If he and the soon
-to-be-crowned king are behind the raids, they may be tempting us to act rashly, giving them the excuse they need to invade Ducaun without appearing to be the aggressors,” Malcus shared what he knew along with his concerns.
He was correct. Jathem did not need the situation explained to him. This was like fuel for a fire soaking into the region, and one spark is all it would take to set it off. “I understand what is happening and what could potentially happen, but we cannot neglect our duty to protect the citizens of Ducaun from these raiders. An additional quarter of my legion is on the way and should be reinforcing the hill forts within a few days. All I am asking is that you stick around at least until Kall’s legions withdraw.” After all, the northwest region was once again San’s responsibility now that he delivered Xavier to Pentrosa.
“They seemed hostile, tense, ready to fight at the slightest provocation,” Sir Carlo offered his take on the matter.
“As I said,” Jathem resumed, “It is my responsibility to protect the good people of Ducaun and I will do so no matter how the Pentrosans feel about it. Any horsemen from their side who crosses the border will be sent back, any that actually cause trouble will be arrested, and any that come here armed for a fight will be killed.”
“Yet, I agree with General Malcus,” Sir Tomas spoke up in his deep voice. “The deaths in the royal family, the prickly and quarrelsome attitudes of our neighbors to the north, and the constant raids across the border have elevated tensions. A single misperceived act against Pentrosan sovereignty, conspiracy theories aside, could result in a declaration of war. The raids are likely to continue. Jathem, I know you are zealous in the performance of your duty, as are we all, but I recommend extreme caution.”
Jathem shared the concern. “We in this room are official representatives of the Queen. I assure you all I will not order pursuit across the border. If one of my patrols gives chase to a band of raiders, and that band manages to cross over, my standing orders are to cease pursuit. Not a single arrow or crossbow bolt is to be launched. Neither San nor I have authority over you gentlemen, but I think you all understand what could happen if a Royal Knight of the Realm crosses into Pentrosa, even in the pursuit of justice.”
“We understand,” Sir William assured him. “The Pentrosans would look at one of us crossing into their territory as an official attempt by the Ducaunan government to test the strength of the new king.”
Jathem sat back in his chair. “Yes, and potentially igniting the spark leading to all out war.”
The morning was still young yet they were already halfway between Tomrus and the Taltin Sea. Daniel was amazed it had only taken two marks to travel so far up the mighty Hirus. He was stretched out, relaxing on the bench in the front room of the cottage. The back room with the bunks was filled from top to bottom with supplies. He noted a large amount of space onboard was taken up with supplies for his company of guardsmen, yet the added weight did not seem to be slowing the aptly named Javelin down. He decided this was the best way to travel short of teleporting. Too bad there was no river leading directly to the Foothills.
His mother and father were up in the wheelhouse where she piloted the riverboat while the carpenter sat waiting for his turn. Tim and Gina were on the other side of the table from Daniel, seated on the bench, laughing and whispering as if they were the only occupants of the room. Silvia and David sat at the bow holding hands. Simon and Samuel were at the waterwheel. The Accomplished of the Eagle Guild had just turned over the powering
of the wheel to his colleague.
The quiet time gave Daniel the opportunity to work on composing music, namely a spell that would convey the caster from one place to another, much the way
Tarin Conn’s Melody, Teleportation, worked, except requiring one bolt of potential rather than six. Daniel rearranged the notes in his mind, changing rhythms and tempo, and changing eighth notes to sixteenth and half notes to eighth. He felt as if the composition was nearly complete yet still lacked something. Perhaps if he was not also trying to compose a series of spells to save Queen Cleona his creativity could be more focused. Trying to compose multiple Melodies and then turn them into Symphonics was not always easy.
From the cottage windows he could see maple trees along the riverbank with their colorful autumn leaves. The climate was cooler and soon the men would be putting on the thicker coats over their lightweight chain mail. Jonah and some of the guardsmen were on the first vessel behind the Javelin, Keenan and his group on the second, Zaccum and his on the third, Carlin and his group on the fourth, and so on. Ten boats had been hired and were connected by ropes of solidified air created by Samuel. It took all of them to transport the men, horses, and supplies. They would only raise their sails after being separated before entering the port, sooner would be a hindrance, and potentially damaging, due to the incred
ible speed of Simon’s creation.
One mark before mid-day, the Javelin, piloted by Ronn Benhannon, entered the
Taltin Sea, and Daniel was pleased with the progress. Samuel was powering the waterwheel and Simon came forward to the cottage. “We are making good time, I’ll grant you that,” the Aakacarn responded to an observation made by Tim, “but we’re traveling at about one third of the speed this boat can go,” the sandy-haired Accomplished added proudly and then took a seat on the bench opposite the married couple.
“Then why not go faster?” Daniel asked the affable Aakacarn beside him.
Simon’s eyes reflected the intelligence behind them. “I formed the Javelin whole out of a living tree. The hull is no thicker than the average boat of its size, yet it is denser than a hull three times its thickness, sealed tight against leakage, and can take stresses that would tear the fishing boats apart.”
Daniel rubbed his chin. “I never thought of that. Did you learn about stresses from the Willow Guild?”
Simon leaned toward him. “The information is in the guild literary library, which is why I can discuss it with you. Anything in the Library of Melodies would be off limits, but general knowledge is not forbidden. I read a lot and study the world at large and how everything works together in harmony like a grand symphony. Sunlight, wind, water, minerals, plants, and animals are all codependents, and subject to certain natural laws. Most of us Aakacarns are so focused on our specialties we fail to see the interrelationship of the ecological system.”
This was the first time Daniel heard anyone put the concept in words to such an extent, but had marginally been aware of the codependence from a hunter’s perspective. Everything living thing had to eat. If the plants die, bugs that eat them die, and then the critters that feed on them will starve, and so on up the food chain. He remembered
the spell, What Is This? and how everything is made up of those little worlds with tiny moons circling them, and realized the planet was complex beyond his imagining and yet tied together in fundamental ways. “We have a few marks before reaching Valeen. I see on a small scale what you mean and am interested in hearing more, if you don’t mind sharing at least some of what you know about those laws and the ecosystem with me.”
Simon grinned and was clearly pleased at finding someone as interested in how the world works as he. “I
t would be my pleasure. I’ll start with plants,” he began and spent the rest of his break time happily sharing his knowledge. Tim and Gina left the cottage a quarter of a mark into the discussion, apparently not interested, but Daniel appreciated the opportunity to gain a better understanding of how things related to each other.