Chapter 24: Slaughter at Land Gate
The captain sat on his heavy horse at the top of the hill
looking down on what had been a village as he soldiers made their way around
the ruins.
Smoke still rose from what had been many fires overnight but
now cinders. The scent of scalding flesh filled the air as the east wind brought
dust out of the plains.
Dawn had brought peace to the village as the warriors fled
ahead of the captain’s armored troop.
“Killing unarmed villagers is easy, but not so much when people
can fight back,” he thought, knowing, however, the matter was not as simple as
that.
They embraced night and took away their dead before dawn
could steal their souls. Warriors had died here, as the overmatched villagers fought
back. None of their bodies remained for the steel devils of the north to steal.
The captain did not need a body to identify the attackers, a
particularly savage tribe coming from the northeastern plains. Why they came
puzzled him.
His lieutenant rode up the hill from the ruins of the
village, carrying a sword and a cross bow.
“I found these among the ruins,” he said, when he got close
enough for the captain to hear. “It appears the attackers had these.”
The captain looked at both items, neither of which should
have been in the hands of any of the tribes, war weapons from the gulf states,
most likely from Htam.
“It is what the prince suspected,” the captain said. “These
attacks are not random acts by angry tribes but prompted by some unholy
alliance between Htam and the savages.”
Savage was the wrong word, the captain knew. Although his
people from the north considered them savages, the tribes of Dzafar had an old
and distinguished culture, as distinguished as any that boasted castles along
the coast.
This made the savagery of this and other attacks all the
more mysterious.
“What I don’t understand is why they took their heads,” the lieutenant
said, staring down the hill at the smoldering ruins. “Even the kids.”
“They believe the soul resides in the head,” the captain
said. “By taking the head, a warrior guarantees he will not meet his vanquished
foe in the next world.”
“These are farmers and merchants, not soldiers.”
“And yet they fought back,” the captain said. “I suspect you’ll
find the bodies of those who did not unmolest, those the natives saw as
cowards, who might have begged for their lives. Taking the heads of their foes
is a sign of respect.”
“I’ll keep my head, thank you.”
“Then you’ll have to make sure you defeat them before they
defeat you.”
“Do you think it will come to that, I mean, all-out war
between us?”
“It would seem inevitable,” the captain said. “It would be
wise for us not to be here by night fall.”
“Do you still think we should alert the other villages; I
mean the ones closer in?”
“I think they all need to evacuate,” the captain said. “I
fear this is only the beginning, and the next attack will come to those
villages closer to our border. People need to be brought back to the two towers
until this thing blows over.”
“People wont be happy,” the lieutenant said. “They have
crops to bring in.”
“It will be a choice between their crops and their lives.”
“Yes, but we do not have enough stores at the towers to feed
them all.”
“Then, they will need to bring as much as they can with
them,” the captain said. “Send out riders to each of the villages to have them
begin. We will escort the villagers to the towers on our way back.”
“And if you’re wrong about the natives attacking by
daylight?”
“Then, I suspect we’re all doomed,” the captain said.
*************
The king stood at the window across the room from his
throne, staring east at a tower he could not have seen even with eagle eyes.
News had reached him about attacks near Land Gate, savage
attacks that had left hundreds of villagers beheaded, and many more huddling
under the protection of the soldiers there.
“It is a terrible tragedy,” Blyord said, standing still near
the throne as if the king still sat there.
“And my son?”
“A winged messenger said Prince Ajax would be attending to
the matter himself and would take his legion south to the area.”
“I pity those poor savages,” the king said. “They do not
know the wrath my son can bring upon them.”
“Some of the soldiers believe this was the prophesy of end
days, when tales claim the tribes would rise up and put an end to their oppressors,”
Blyord said.
“I hope you are wrong,” the king said. “But I suspect we may
see blood shed that will continue their hatred of us for many generations to
come.”
“The only troubling thing is that we have not heard directly
from Prince Ajax,” Blyord said.
“These are not good tidings,” the king said, turning to look
at the wizard across the room. “What might be the matter?”
“I do not know, your grace, but messengers have gone out
seeking him,” Blyord said.
“And if something ill has happened, to whom will I pass my
crown?” the king asked.
“Your concern is premature, sire,” Blyord said, “both about
Ajax’s fate and Ely’s ability. You still have two good sons who can carry on
when the need arises.”
The king did not look reassured.
As much as he admired his sons, the king also knew their
limitations, a love sick son, or a son too much after his own heart in his love
for glory. Neither could be trusted to keep Amlor at peace. But he had no doubt
about either son’s abilities as warriors.
“I’m not worried about Ajax’s safety,” the king said. “He as
well as his brother are more than capable of handling themselves when it comes
to war.”
“And yet they are not immortal,” Blyord said, “as some might
believe.”
“Only foolish men with too much time on their hands for useless
chatter,” the king said. “What did we hear last about Prince Ajax’s whereabouts?”
“That he engaged in battle somewhere south of the two towers
of Land Gate.”
Ajax commanded his legion of some of the fiercest warriors
in the whole of Amlor’s army, warriors who had grown up with a single-minded adoration
for Ajax, troubling to some, warriors who would give their lives for him, even
more than they would the king or the nation. They stood or fell with Ajax.
Blyord had often expressed discomfort to the king about this
fanatical loyalty, claiming out of such passion revolutions were born.
Ajax, Blyord knew, loved his father, but loved the throne
more, lusted after it perpetually, and had some to despise his brother for being
first born.
In many ways, Ajax had built his own kingdom at Land Gate,
which he defended furiously, taking seriously every incursion by the native
tribes.
Blyord could well imagine the rage the prince felt over the mass
slaughter of villagers beyond the two border towers but wondered how Ajax would
enact his wrath.
The king recognized Ajax’s lust for power, partly because
the King had felt the same at the same age but believed Ajax would never go so
far as to seize the throne, either from him or from Ely when Ely ascended to it
– even if at the same time, the King seemed to wish Ajax had been first born.
“I wish both my sons could command such loyalty,” the king
said once, reminding Blyord how when at that age, the King as a prince had
commanded a similar troop, horsemen of long ago that had helped him win the
love of the nation. “Prince Ely will become a stranger to his own people if he
insists on his wandering ways.”
“His wandering was your doing, sire,” Blyord said. “You’re
the one who ordered him to his remote duties.”
The king’s statement about Ely’s fading popularity was not
completely true. Many loved him and praised him, but these were scattered across
the kingdom, while Ajax retaining a group of powerful mountain warriors, who
had practical combat experience fighting the natives, and when assembled were
nearly an invincible force, able to fend off the most furious native attacks.
But now, the king clearly was concerned about Ajax’s disappearance.
“They went out to deal with the attackers,” Blyord said. “None
of witness their return. Some believe his legion has been spirited away by evil
magic. Messages have arrived from those who keep guard expressing fear that Land
Gate maybe vulnerable to a massive attack.”
“As you pointed out, something is driving the tribes to
attack,” the kind said. “They may be an odd race, but they are not stupid to
risk open war with us. In the past, they have refrained from murdering women and
children.”
“There is rumor of a great drought in some of their other
grazing lands,” Blyord said. “Many areas have dried up and blown away. They
claim a dark force rises and they are fearful of that. Also, the men of Htam
may have made promises to bring their own magic to help solve their problems,
if the tribes would come after Amlor.”
“What would you have me do?” the king asked.
Here, a bit of Blyord’s guile showed in his eyes, the pieces
of his deceptive plan falling into place.
“I would send Prince Ely to Land Gate,” the wizard said. “He
is a powerful warrior in his own right and if something is amiss there, few
others could deal with it as well as he might.”
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