by Guy Antibes
“What made you into a scout, Mesyrat?” Vish asked while he stirred the pot.
“My family was killed by the Cuminee two years ago while I stayed at my aunt and uncle’s farm further to the North. I had to avenge their deaths somehow. I knew I had a bit of power, so I tried to join up as soon as I became a man. When they learned I could make fire and water, they finally let me join a few months ago, just after your brothers, uh, died. I like it at the outpost, so far.”
“Have you had a chance to fight the Cuminee?”
“Yes, but I haven’t killed any yet. Clashes are not very common, as you know. By the time we get to a district where there are attacks, the savages have left the dead and all we can do is extinguish the fires and bury the bodies.” Fourth Mesyrat’s eyes glistened in the firelight. His experience had seemed to harden his outlook. “Tell me, can I learn to use a sling like you do?”
Vishan had to smile. “I can do that. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to show someone how to make one and here you are. I’ll show you right after dinner. We’ll make one out of spare boots. They are about ready for replacement, anyway.”
After dinner, Vishan showed Mesyrat how to use the laces, if his boots had them, for the thongs and cut out the soft leather tongue of one workout shoe as a pouch. He discussed how the leather should feel.
“Now, if you are out here, far from the outpost, how would you make it?” Vish said.
Mesyrat’s eyes brightened. “I could bend a wire pot handle and heat it up and burn two holes in the pouch. The pouch just takes a sharp knife and some careful cutting.”
Vish hadn’t thought of using the wire from a cooking pot. Good for Mesyrat. He brought out one of the two slings he always kept with him and showed Mesyrat the size of the pouch and the little leather pad on the loop.
“There. You’ve done it.” Vish said, as the boy finished the last knot. “Now, you get to show someone else how to do it. Promise?”
Fourth Mesyrat’s smiled with his mouth but not his eyes as he looked at his work, comparing it to Vish’s. The two slings looked much the same. Perhaps he didn’t like the work that he did, or he thought the little pledge was a stupid idea. “I promise. And to think I learned this from a Prince of the Dakkoran Empire.” The boy shook his head. “We can practice tomorrow?”
Haryr, the old soldier who had taught him to make this particular style of sling had recently retired and left the outpost. Vish felt good about teaching another person the simple task; something he doubted none of his other brothers would do. He didn’t want to be like them. It was a little thing, but it was something that would have made him feel better, except he felt that Mesyrat didn’t really appreciate the lesson.
“Until we get caught,” Vish said. That might not happen on this trip. Vish had used his power to cover his tracks with a tiny trailing wind. If they hadn’t been caught by the morning on day after tomorrow, they were to head back to the outpost. Part of the test rules that Second Restylu privately gave him would be to let Mesyrat be the one to lead them back.
~
Vishan sat eating his dinner by himself when Sergeant Vaka sat down beside him.
“I’ve got some news, Second,” Vaka said. “Half of the outpost will be heading east to stop a major incursion of the Cuminee. This time it’s reported to be as big a raiding party as we’ve seen in some time, including women, children and wagons. This time the Captain is worried. You’ll earn your rank on this expedition.”
“I assume I’ll get specific orders from Second Restylu?”
Vaka shook his head. “Restylu stays here as a reserve with a Third. I’ll be commanding the other Second, Third and Fourth as outriders.”
Vishan nodded his head. He didn’t know if he should be excited or worried about what Vaka was about to tell him.
“You will be leaving after breakfast tomorrow. You’ll take a pack horse with supplies and will lead us to the Cuminee. The Captain has orders for you to travel all by yourself.”
“As soon as you’re done with your meal, we’re going to take a stroll over to the quartermaster. I want to make sure you’ve got the best equipment we’ve got. We’ll also have to work out a way for you to leave trail markers. I don’t like the idea of you going out on your own, but you are a powerful Second, so you get the assignment. The Cuminee may be scouting us, so I’ve got some ideas to mix things up.”
“Were you ever a Scout?” Vishan asked. If there would ever be a time to ask Vaka, it would be now. He might not ever have another chance.
The Sergeant’s eyes lost focus as he dredged up some memories. Vish didn’t know if they were good or bad.
“I was. I made it to Third before they found out I couldn’t conjure water. I learned as much as I could as fast as I could.” Vaka laughed, in retrospect. “I always told them I could always make water. Every human can. It’s just that I couldn’t do it magically. I never lied.”
“You have a little talent, then.”
“I do. I keep it close. It helps me find things out, like looking for blood on gloves and weapons. I can use it to find people. Power instead of a bloodhound. I can see traces of it when it’s used.” Vaka shrugged his shoulders. “You noticed when we took your brothers out into the field, didn’t you?”
Vishan looked at his empty dinner plate for a bit, but shook his head and shrugged. “I put it down to experience. But since I’ve learned how to scout, I figured you had to have had the training to read tracks as well as you did.”
“Indeed. I can also tell traces of magic on kicked out barn walls.” He smacked Vish on the side of the head a little harder than Vishan expected. Vaka still had an edge and he just reminded Vish of it. “Time to gather equipment and come up with a way to blaze the trail.”
~
The sun wasn’t too hot. The rainy season had come to the plains and that just meant it might rain every week or two. The gray-green foliage turned bright green for a few months. Further south, great rains would pelt the jungle-like coast of Cuminee, where the civilized people lived.
Vishan wore a light leather jerkin and two chain mail coats. Even with the cooler weather, he had sweat all day and night. His boiled leather armor had a high collar. A silk scarf hid another layer of chain mail wrapped around his neck, gave him some peace of mind as he slept. The garroted neck of Havyr, his brother, still gave him nightmares. The Cuminee could cut throats just as easily as his brothers.
He wished he had the Assassin’s Blade with him, but Vaka suggested that he leave it behind. Vish gave him the instructions to send it to Peleor if something happened to him. He had to admit that he felt more than enough fear, going out on his own, but he knew how to prepare for most eventualities. That made his fear manageable.
He consulted with the scroll on trail codes that Vaka and he had developed. Each of them carried a leather roll that decoded Vish’s trail markers. Without the code, anyone following Vish would be sent off one way or another in the wrong direction.
~
Days later, Vish arranged the latest set of rocks and put the little red flag up. In a few leagues, Vish came across what he had been sent out to find. Perhaps one hundred horses, eight to ten wagons and people on foot had crossed his path heading north.
He set a trail marker and followed the tracks far enough to get a better count of the Cuminee band. He laid down one that notified Vaka of his estimates of enemy strength and that Vish might not need to set another marker, now that tracks were found.
These were genuine Cuminee this time. The nomads carved little totems in their horse’s hooves and along the rolling edges of their broad wooden wheels. When the tracks went over dusty dirt, they left distinct impressions.
Vishan had to leave the tracks and ride along their trail some distance in parallel, since a Cuminee scout could easily come on him from behind while he followed a raiding band this large. He increased the speed of his mount. His tracking duties were now over and Vish now had to locate the band and report back to the main group.
He couldn’t help but smile. He could find the band or return to the main column if he wished, at this point. The tracks were fresh enough that the band might be a day, but not more than two, up ahead. Cuminee wagons did not move very quickly.
Something gnawed at him as he rode a league to the West farther north. He pulled out his map and stared at it until he knew what it was. There weren’t any settlements or farmers anywhere close to the direction taken by the Cuminee. To his suspicious mind, that meant only one thing, a trap for soldiers.
~~~
CHAPTER ELEVEN
~
VISHAN MOUNTED AND RODE BACK IN SIGHT OF THE TRACK when he saw dust clouds further east. The Cuminee column had already turned around, heading back south. After two hours of riding, he saw another dust cloud on the horizon and began to hear the sounds of battle.
These Cuminee were a different group from the one he had been following. Vish had never heard of so many Cuminee on a raid before. This was less of a raid and more of an invasion into Dakkoran territory.
The Cuminee fought like madmen against the army. Vishan pulled out his sword and began hacking his way through to Captain Bishyar. Sergeant Vaka fought by his side. Despite their ferocity, the Cuminee warriors were no match for disciplined Dakkoran troops and the fighting began to die down.
Vish made it to Captain Bishyar. “The column that headed north is coming back this way. If the Cuminee regroup from this battle, they will press you from both sides. I’d suggest a withdrawal.”
Bishyar narrowed his eyes at Vishan as he surveyed the fighting. Vish had to turn to fight another Cuminee. He heard the Captain call for Vaka.
“Sergeant, call for a retreat. The Second is right; we’ll be caught between them. Get the soldiers to grab as many of their fallen comrades as they can and we will regroup to the West. Daryaku, stay and fight with me.”
Vishan ended up taking Vaka’s place, watching the Captain’s back, as they both hacked their way through the steadily diminishing enemy. Suddenly, the Cuminee withdrew.
“We can’t stay here, men.” Captain Bishyar said, as the soldiers began to drop where they stood. Exhaustion from the fight was evident on every face. “Another force is coming from the North. The Cuminee made a tactical error, they fought us too soon before their brothers arrived. We’ll have to return with a larger force. Move out. Walking is less effort that fighting.”
The Dakkorans began to head west. Bishyar gathered his officers and Vaka. The Sergeant collared Vish and brought him to the officers who rode as they talked.
“Sergeant, send your Third to the fort and have them empty the stables and bring every man who can ride. The quartermaster can command those left behind. The Cuminee will combine their forces and hit us from both sides, if I’m not mistaken.”
Bishyar mounted and waited for the scout to arrive. “You’ll be on a forced ride all the way to the outpost. The three villages we past on our way will have to know what they face.” He looked to the others. “We’ll head west as fast as our wounded will let us. We can’t take the dead.”
The men scattered except for Vaka and Vish.
“Second Daryaku, I want you to make contact with the northern group and find out how many warriors will be riding our way. You are on your own. Try to get back to us with the information. If nothing else, make sure you show up at the outpost, understood?”
“Understood, Captain,” Vish said as he saluted with his arm striking his chest. “Anything else, Sergeant?”
“Follow the same protocol that you used when you left. Danger abounds from every direction when you’re out on your own,” Vaka said.
Vish nodded to him and rode out of the line and headed south. He kept the road that the soldiers took in sight as he turned back east. The Cuminee must have met up, but they hadn’t begun to pursue. Would they bury their dead first? He didn’t know that much about them. A lack of knowing your enemy was a strategic mistake, and Vish knew it.
He crossed the tracks heading north and finally spotted the dust cloud of the Cuminee. He rode west a bit further and then headed north. The enemy would be less likely to look for someone in the opposite direction from where the Dakkorans withdrew. The day began to fade when Vish tied up his horse behind an outcropping of rocks and trees just east of the crossroads.
He felt a humming and realized that it was a tiny eruption of the nexus. His body filled with energy. Peleor had described the feeling before. He’d at least be able to use all of his power in a fight.
Vish crept forward. He estimated he’d have to move half of a league on his own. When he reached the crossroads, he found that the Cuminee had camped for the night. The savages had tied thirty people to poles staked into the ground. He’d seen this before on various farms, but these included both Cuminee and Dakkoran bodies. Vish had to concentrate on keeping his stomach intact. The victims were already dead, but the disfigurations upset him. He wanted to turn away, but he had to know what the shamans were doing. Vish forced himself to look on.
Four shamans flayed the men and removed their hearts. Buckets at the feet of the staked figures were filled with the victims’ blood. Vishan shivered wen he realized that no Dakkoran had ever seen such a thing done by the Cuminee before. Spells were sung and the shamans danced to their words.
A huge warrior began to yell at the shamans. He wore bits and pieces of armor and his frizzy hair had been twisted and turned into a head of braids that reminded Vish of snakes. The Cuminee spoke a variant of Dakkoran, but their accents were so thick, Vish couldn’t understand a word of what was said from such a distance. The warrior kept pointing towards the West, waving his sword.
The best Vish could determine was the man wanted to pursue the soldiers, but the shamans refused. Other warriors began to join in the huge man’s complaining to the shamans until one of the Cuminee shamans pointed to one of the warriors and turned him into a pillar of flame. Another shaman pointed to another man, turning him into a pyre as well. The big warrior continued to yell until his boots caught fire.
A woman threw a bucket of water on the man’s feet and pointed to the stand of hobbled horses. The big warrior hung his head in defeat. He walked a few steps and looked sorrowfully at the greasy pillars of smoke his fellow plainsmen made, and then he picked up a pile of belongings. He found his horse and left the camp, heading northwest.
The Cuminee settled down as the wagons bearing women, children and supplies trundled into camp. The shamans had done what they needed to and left the corpses on the stakes. The women began to set up the domed tents the Cuminee used. They wouldn’t be pursuing Captain Bishyar.
Vish looked for others to leave the camp, but none did. As the night darkened and the Cuminee cook fires began to light up the area, he rose to retrieve his horse. A wire slipped past his vision and someone behind him began to grunt in effort, while Vish’s throat constricted. The assassin! His armored neck didn’t keep the garrote from reducing his ability to breath completely. He began to wheeze.
He grabbed for his knife and slammed back into his assailant, knocking them both to the ground. The assassin’s grip didn’t fade until Vish jammed his knife into the man’s thigh. He heard a muffled grunt and slammed his free hand over the mouth of the killer.
The garrote loosened enough for Vish to turn around and face his would be killer.
~~~
CHAPTER TWELVE
~
THE FIRES FAINTLY LIT UP HIS ASSAILANT’S FACE. Vish sighed with disappointment as he plunged his dagger into the chest of Fourth Mesyrat. The boy’s unexpected strength ebbed until he dropped the garrote.
Vish felt awful, worse than when his brothers had attacked him. He had trained with Mesyrat. “Why?” he said.
“They said they’d kill my uncle and aunt. My only relatives!” His voice was little more than a whisper. Vish knew he had struck a mortal blow.
“Who! Who sent you?”
“Sorcerer’s Tower.” Mesyrat’s eyes lost their focus and his body
relaxed.
He shook his head in dismay. Now he’d have to teach another how to make a sling, but that thought hid his real concern. He had killed someone he knew well. He had eaten and slept out in the open with Mesyrat. Why hadn’t the boy tried then? Vish would never know, but he felt fortunate that he had endured the discomfort of his chain mail choker. The thing had saved his life, but his neck hurt too much to leave it on for now.
What had he done to earn the sorcerers’ anger? First, his father and brothers and now the most powerful force outside of the Emperor attacked him. What were his real chances for survival?
Vish would have to worry about it later. He’d have to leave the body where it was, but he still spent a few minutes covering the Fourth’s body with dirt as best as he could. There was no sense leaving it as an easy discovery.
Vish made the dust swirl to cover up his tracks as he left for his horse. He saw Mesyrat’s tied up next to his. The boy must have tracked him all the way from the battle site.
He looked out at the faint glow on the horizon from the Cuminee camp. So why did the shaman’s do such a disgusting ritual? What did they do with the heart and the blood? Vish looked off into the North. He had a Cuminee warrior to find. Perhaps the exile might have some answers.
~
The stress of the day and the night began to wear on Vish, as he pressed onward in the dark. Mesyrat’s betrayal stunned him. The Sorcerer’s Tower had contracted for the assassination and planted the Fourth in the army. Had someone told them of his exploits using magic on the expedition that had killed so many heirs?
He couldn’t think of another explanation unless someone had gotten to Peleor. Vish ran his hand through his hair and then he clutched his neck. Preparation. His worry about being attacked with a garrote had saved his life. Vish didn’t see his survival as luck, at all, but preparation. At least he wouldn’t have to be as concerned about someone killing him from behind as much as a huge Cuminee warrior killing him from the direction he headed.