It was during Jalkan’s third year in Narasan’s army that the father of young Keselo purchased a commission for his son. At first, Jalkan was quite sure that he and the rather stuffy young aristocrat would become close friends, but Keselo remained aloof. Evidently, Keselo’s years as a student at the University of Kaldacin had given him an exaggerated opinion of himself. Jalkan had encountered that often during his years in the Amarite church. Some men simply could not accept the fact that their education had not really ennobled them. Jalkan turned his back on Keselo at that point. He didn’t really need friends anyway.
Then in the spring of Jalkan’s fifth year as an officer in Narasan’s army, a duke from the southern part of the Empire approached Commander Narasan with a very generous offer. As nearly as Jalkan was able to determine, an old baron had recently died without an heir, and the rulers of two nearby duchies had been squabbling for almost a year about which one of them should annex the barony as “a protectorate.”
The duke who’d approached Commander Narasan had evidently grown tired of the endless argument, and he’d decided to take a more direct approach.
The money was good, and Commander Narasan had quickly agreed.
Jalkan, however, had a few doubts. The southern reaches of the Empire had given rise to the heresy that had placed the usurper Udar IV on the holy throne of the Naos of the Amarite faith, so Jalkan had good reason not to trust anybody who came from that region.
As it had turned out, Jalkan’s doubts had been even more valid than he’d thought. The opposing duke had secretly hired three armies to oppose Commander Narasan’s force, and the results had been disastrous.
Jalkan never fully understood Narasan’s reaction to the unfortunate events in the south of the Empire. Twelve cohorts had been slaughtered during the battle, but very few officers had fallen. The vast majority of the casualties had been common soldiers, so they weren’t really all that significant. Narasan, however, had gone into deep mourning. Then he’d broken his sword and left the army compound to take up begging in a scruffy part of the city of Kaldacin.
That raised a number of very interesting possibilities. There were several officers who outranked Jalkan, of course, but that wasn’t really a major obstacle. Jalkan knew quite a few professional assassins who normally worked for the higher-ranking churchmen. Once Gunda, Padan—and most certainly Keselo—were out of the way, Jalkan would be the logical successor to Narasan.
That lit a warm little fire in his heart, and he began to work on his agenda. Quite obviously, the common soldiers in the army were being grossly overpaid. Once Jalkan assumed command, his first order of business would be to reduce those wages by half at the very least, and after he’d made examples of the more vociferous objectors, the rest of the army would accept the decrees of their new commander. If everything went according to his plans, Commander Jalkan would soon be collecting as much money as Adnari Estarg had been raking in, or more.
Jalkan felt that was only right and proper. His future was beginning to look brighter and brighter.
Six months later, the cursed foreigner Veltan arrived in Kaldacin, and in less than a week Jalkan’s grand plan tumbled down around his ears. Commander Narasan returned to the army compound and snatched Jalkan’s glorious future right out from under him.
Jalkan tried his best to conceal his disappointment, but when he was alone, he spent much of his time inventing new curse words.
5
Jalkan had been quite certain that the foreigner Veltan had deceived Commander Narasan during their negotiations, but when the advance force reached Castano after the long march from Kaldacin, Veltan sailed into the harbor in a rickety fishing sloop and delivered ten blocks of what appeared to be pure gold.
That definitely got Jalkan’s attention, and he made a point of being in Narasan’s cabin on board the large Trogite vessel Narasan had hired to carry most of the officers off to the north when the commander carried the blocks on board. Jalkan definitely wanted to know just exactly where that gold was located.
Commander Narasan almost indifferently put the blocks inside the large trunk at the bottom of his bed and then handed a large map to Jalkan. “Give this to Gunda,” he said. “It’ll show him the path to follow that’ll get the fleet through that belt of ice floes lying between here and the Land of Dhrall.”
“Yes, sir!” Jalkan replied crisply, coming to attention and saluting smartly. He was fairly certain that a pose of strict military behavior was appropriate just now. A number of very interesting possibilities had turned up, and Jalkan thought it might be best to keep his interest in that gold strictly to himself.
After Commander Narasan and Veltan had sailed north in the fishing sloop, Gunda took charge of the advance force and they made preparations to sail from Castano.
Jalkan agonized over the monumental choice that was facing him at that point. He knew exactly where those ten blocks of gold were stored, and Commander Narasan hadn’t even bothered to lock that trunk. On the other hand, Veltan had told them that the Land of Dhrall had whole mountains of gold just sitting there waiting for somebody to gather it up. To be sure, Jalkan could quite easily appropriate those ten blocks and be gone before anyone noticed, but that would forever put the mountains of gold in the Land of Dhrall beyond his reach. A kind of paralysis came over him, and he was unable to make the choice.
And then the fleet sailed, and the choice went out the window.
He began to seriously regret it when the fleet of ships reached the band of ice floes that lay between the Empire and the Land of Dhrall. The term “ice floe” was a gross understatement, to Jalkan’s way of thinking. “A mountain range of floating ice” would come much closer. The channels the fleet followed were disturbingly narrow, and the towering cliffs of blue-white ice rose up and up and up until they seemed to blot out the very sky. A lot of “ifs” came unbidden into Jalkan’s mind as the fleet carefully made its way north. “If the current changes” seemed to argue with “if the wind comes from a different direction” in Jalkan’s imagination. He realized that the cause wouldn’t really matter, since the effect would be the same. The ice-mountains would slowly, but inexorably, come together, crushing the ships—and everybody on board the ships—slowly into splinters and bloody pulp.
Jalkan went belowdecks at that point and refused to even look at the mountains of ice on all sides of the fleet.
The weather had cleared off somewhat when the advance fleet sailed into the harbor of a native village called Lattash, but there appeared to be a great deal of snow in the mountains that reared up behind the village.
Commander Narasan was standing on the beach when the ships dropped anchor, and he greeted his officers as they came ashore.
To Jalkan’s eyes the village of Lattash was so primitive that he half expected to see the natives walking on all fours like dogs, and the scruffy-looking Maag pirates weren’t much better. It did raise some interesting possibilities, though. A well-trained army could take just about anything of value from these primitives without so much as working up a sweat. Jalkan was very happy that he hadn’t just stolen those few blocks of gold and run off while the fleet had still been in the harbor at Castano. It appeared that there were all sorts of opportunities here.
He almost burst out laughing when Commander Narasan led them into a cave to meet Veltan’s sister. A cave took “primitive” all the way down to the bottom rung of the ladder.
Then he saw Zelana for the first time, and just the sight of her almost stopped his heart. She was by far the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
The pirate leader Sorgan was quite another matter. Jalkan had never seen a man so large, and the ones called “Ox” and “Ham-Hand” were even bigger. For some unknown reason, Commander Narasan seemed to think the small, wiry Maag known as “Rabbit” was somebody special.
After a bit of discussion, Commander Narasan and the pirate decided to leave their men on board the ships in the harbor, and that didn’t particularly bother Jalkan. The
less he had to do with pirates and savages the better.
Time seemed to pass very slowly as they all waited for the snow in the mountains to melt off, but Jalkan wasn’t in any particular hurry.
And then the day came when an old man from one of the native tribes told them all a wild story about people who were part snake and very dangerous. Jalkan dismissed all of that as pure nonsense. The less he had to do with these superstitious savages the better.
Jalkan’s hideous discovery of the true reality that lay behind this dreadful war quite nearly dislocated his mind. He spent most of his time devoutly praying to Amar to protect him—not only from the evil snake-men, but more important from the witch Zelana. There were several gestures he knew of that would hold evil at bay, and his fingers were moving almost constantly as the army marched on back to the village by the bay.
After what seemed to Jalkan almost an eternity, the army of Commander Narasan boarded the ships in the harbor and set sail for the southern reaches of the Land of Dhrall to fight the war they were being paid for. Jalkan privately wished that they’d just keep on going south. Everything here in the Land of Dhrall seemed so hideously unnatural.
Jalkan found the Domain of Veltan much more attractive than the region controlled by Veltan’s sister. The forests of Zelana’s Domain had frightened Jalkan, and the savage hunters who lived there appeared to have little respect for those of superior rank. The fact that Jalkan was an officer and a gentleman seemed to have escaped them. At least the peasants of Veltan’s Domain seemed to know their place.
Jalkan carefully questioned a peasant named Omago about the religious beliefs of the natives, and he was more than a little shocked to discover that the ignorant savages had nothing even resembling a church, and they were permitted to speak directly with their god without benefit of the clergy.
Jalkan concealed his outrage and rather slyly asked the crude bumpkin where the gold mines were located, but the fellow feigned ignorance. Jalkan swore under his breath and stalked away. He was fairly certain that in time he’d be able to find some peasant who’d be more forthcoming. There were unbelievable opportunities here in the Land of Dhrall, but Jalkan needed more information before he’d be able to exploit them.
After they’d walked a goodly distance up from the beach, they reached the castle of Veltan, and their host led them to what he called his “map-room.”
Then Commander Narasan and the pirate Sorgan became involved in a lengthy discussion of the terrain and probable tactics which might—or might not—be involved in their campaign, but Jalkan paid very little attention. It was fairly clear by now that the region around the Falls of Vash was most probably rich in gold. There was no other reason to defend the area, and it was equally obvious that it was also the reason for the enemy invasion. That made everything crystal clear. The volcanic eruption in the Domain of Veltan’s sister Zelana had buried any gold deposits at the head of the ravine, so now the people of the Land of Dhrall were desperate to protect the deposits here in Veltan’s Domain.
Now that Jalkan knew what was really happening here, his next logical step was to find some way to profit from that knowledge.
After a while, a peasant woman who was remarkably attractive came through the door to announce that the evening meal was ready, and Jalkan made a few complimentary remarks. Any peasant woman in the Empire would have felt quite flattered by his observations, and no peasant man would have found them the least bit objectionable, but the peasant Omago had the gall to respond with violence. Without so much as any kind of warning, Omago drove his fist into Jalkan’s mouth, knocking him flat on his back with a single blow.
Jalkan came to his feet, grabbing at his knife-hilt, but the insolent young Keselo drew his sword and began making threats.
Jalkan appealed to Commander Narasan for justice. The law was very clear in these circumstances. Any peasant who struck one of his superiors was supposed to be executed on the spot.
Commander Narasan, however, refused to uphold the law, and he even went so far as to revoke the commission Jalkan had bought and paid for.
Jalkan protested vigorously, but Commander Narasan ignored his fully justified protests, and then, to Jalkan’s utter disbelief, Narasan ordered Padan to chain him and take him back to the harbor where the fleet was anchored to await any final decisions.
The thing that none of them seemed to realize was that Jalkan’s comments had been intended as compliments.
6
The rank injustice of the entire affair filled Jalkan with a sense of outrage. His rights and privileges as an officer had been violated again and again, but not one fellow officer had come forward to lodge a protest.
It was quite obvious by now that Narasan had agreed to sell Jalkan his commission only to get his hands on all that gold, and he’d seized on the opportunity in Veltan’s palace to revoke the commission and keep the gold for himself. Now Jalkan was filled with a towering resentment and a hunger for revenge.
He considered the matter, and he soon realized that there was an extremely simple solution. He was very familiar with certain high-ranking members of the Amarite clergy, and he was certain that the word “gold” would get their immediate attention. The only problem there lay in the fact that sooner or later he’d have to show them gold to gain their support. That wouldn’t be much of a problem, though. He knew exactly where he could get his hands on more gold than any churchman had ever seen all at one time.
He was still chained up in the hold of the ship that served as Commander Narasan’s floating headquarters, but that wouldn’t really be much of a problem. During his novitiate in the Amarite faith he’d frequently dealt with locked doors, and the lock on the chain that held him wasn’t all that complex. Despite Padan’s thorough search of him when he’d been confined here in the hold of this Trogite ship, Jalkan still had several small weapons concealed about his person, and the little stiletto tucked away in his boot had unlocked any number of doors during his early years in the Church. Freedom was within his grasp.
Freedom here in the Land of Dhrall wouldn’t mean very much, though, but the solution to that problem was anchored not far from his prison. Jalkan smiled. There was a certain kind of justice involved. Veltan hadn’t stepped in or objected when Narasan had violated Jalkan’s rights, and Veltan was very proud of that little sloop of his.
Jalkan waited for a few days, and then he pulled off his boot, took out his hidden stiletto, and unlocked the chain that held him. He put his ear to the wall of his temporary prison and listened to the gradually diminishing sounds of activity. When all seemed quiet, he opened the door and climbed the ladder to the upper deck. He crouched in the shadows for a while longer, and then he moved on silent feet toward the stern and Commander Narasan’s locked cabin. He probed at the lock with his little stiletto and he was soon rewarded with a loud click.
The trunk at the foot of the bed was still unlocked, and Jalkan felt around in the trunk until he found one of the blocks Narasan had casually stored there.
Then Jalkan agonized over a cruel decision. He knew that he was going to have to swim to reach Veltan’s sloop, and gold was very heavy. There was just no getting around the fact that he couldn’t possibly take all the gold, since that much weight would pull him under. The decision to take only two of the blocks made him almost break down and cry.
Cursing under his breath, he left the cabin, unrolled one of the rope ladders, and silently climbed down.
The water was very cold, and the weight of the two gold blocks made it extremely difficult to keep his head above water. He was shivering violently with cold and exhaustion when he reached the sloop. He climbed on board and lay panting on the deck until he got his breath back. Then he sawed at the thick anchor-rope with one of his small, concealed knives for almost a quarter of an hour. When the rope finally gave way, Jalkan felt a surge of elation. He was finally free.
He sat on the bench in the center of the sloop, put the oars in place, and rowed in the general direction of the
open sea.
It was almost dawn before he was far enough away from the anchored fleet to feel at least partially safe, and the light breeze coming down from the north allowed him to set aside the oars and raise the single sail.
The Empire lay to the south, and Jalkan settled himself at the tiller, steering in the direction of incalculable wealth.
Adnari Estarg sat in stunned disbelief as he hefted the gold block Jalkan had just given him. “Why do they cast their gold in blocks like this, Jalkan?” he asked. “Wouldn’t coins be more useful?”
“They don’t use it as money, Your Grace,” Jalkan explained. “They’re primitives, and as far as I was able to determine, they don’t really understand what gold is worth. They’d make fairly good slaves, though.”
“Converts, Jalkan, converts,” the Adnari corrected.
“Doesn’t that mean the same thing?”
“It sounds nicer, and if we keep waving the word ‘convert’ around, it’ll justify what we’re doing in the eyes of Holy Udar IV.”
“Is he still alive?” Jalkan asked with a certain surprise. “I heard some rumors before Narasan’s army sailed off to the Land of Dhrall—something to the effect that the higher clergy had decided to eliminate him.”
“He’s surrounded by fanatics, Jalkan. Our assassins can’t get anywhere near him.” The Adnari squinted thoughtfully. “I think this Land of Dhrall you’ve described might just be too good an opportunity to pass up. There’s gold there—and thousands of potential slaves. That’s all very nice, but I think ‘distance’ might be even more important.”
“I don’t quite follow that, Your Grace.”
“The Naos has his hands in every churchman’s purse, and he’s robbing us all blind. I suppose he’s entitled to a fair share, but his definition of ‘fair’ goes way beyond what’s always been customary. Worse yet, he’s got spies everywhere, so it’s almost impossible to hide our profits from him. From your description, this Land of Dhrall is far enough away to keep his snoops out of our hair. We’ll see how it works out, but I’m beginning to catch a strong odor of ‘separation’ here. We’ll still worship Amar in our new Church, but we won’t be sending any of our money back here to Kaldacin. The merchants and traders will be very welcome, but the agents of Holy Udar will start having unfortunate accidents when they come to visit. After a decade or so, we’ll cut all ties with the Church here in the Empire and strike out on our own.”
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