“He’s your cousin?” Rokkman asked Clarian.
“Yes.”
“The Flamekeeper wants to see you. I’ll take Jolsani out to the practice fields and show him around. He might like to see the horses.”
Clarian translated what Rokkman had said.
“No,” said Jolsani.
“What’s the matter?” asked Rokkman.
“I stay with Selu. Clarian.”
A brief exchange took place between Jolsani and Clarian, with Jolsani shaking his head in disagreement. Clarian turned to Rokkman. “He wants to stay close to me.”
“He can’t go with you to see the Flamekeeper.”
“Yes, he can, and he will,” retorted Clarian.
“This is unthinkable, Clarian.”
“These are unusual times, Rokkman. Lead the way. I have some things to tell both of you.”
Rokkman came out of the inner chamber leading the Flamekeeper. The old man wore his violet robes, and his long, white hair and flowing beard and bright-blue eyes surprised Jolsani. The Flamekeeper smiled and hurried forward to clasp Clarian in a big hug.
“You’ve been away too long, Clarian!” said the Flamekeeper.
“Yes, Holy One. Too long but on some important journeys,” said Clarian, slightly stiff in response to the hug.
“Yes, yes. Rokkman told me, and I received your letters with interest. And who have we here?” He turned his attention to Jolsani, observing him carefully.
“This is my cousin on my mother’s side, Jolsani, a Kobani warrior.”
“In the name of the Flame, Clarian. You’re part Kobani? I had no idea!”
“Jolsani, this is the Flamekeeper,” Clarian said in Kobani.
Jolsani nodded.
“He looks like our holy men, Selu,” remarked Jolsani.
“What did he say?” asked the Flamekeeper.
“He said you look like the Kobani holy men.”
“You are welcome here, Jolsani,” said the Flamekeeper.
“I don’t know why you brought him here, Clarian,” said Rokkman.
“Because, old friend, there may come a time when we will want the Kobani on our side against the Maggan. Who better to speak for us among the Kobani than a family member?”
The Flamekeeper waved his hand dismissively. “The Maggan are beaten, Clarian. They will not venture out of their forest again.”
“I am not so certain, Holy One. They can’t be trusted and I don’t think they will relinquish their desire to steal the Flame.”
“No. It’s over. You worry too much. But now, I find your cousin, here, of interest.”
Clarian translated as the Flamekeeper asked Jolsani a few questions and then Rokkman led the young men out to the practice fields where the soldiers were drilling. Jolsani observed the training without comment, but he took a particular interest in the horses.
He approached a large bay that was picketed with other horses near the archery field. Clarian followed Jolsani over to the picket line. The horse was at first skittish but settled down as Jolsani held the halter and ran his hand over the horse’s neck and shoulders.
“Many of your horses are bigger than ours, Selu.”
“We feed them grain. I think that helps,” said Clarian.
“Do you think this horse is fast?”
“Only one way to find out.”
“To whom does the horse belong?”
“I don’t believe it is assigned to anyone in particular. These horses are all here to be trained. Saddle him up.”
Jolsani grinned and walked over and picked up a saddle blanket and saddle from the back of a nearby wagon and within a few moments was leading the horse out. He swung up in the saddle as the horse danced sideways. He reined him around and then kicked him into a canter.
The word had gone out like wildfire that Clarian had brought a Kobani warrior into the Citadel, and although almost no one had ever seen one unless they were from the Great Grasslands, all had heard of their fierceness. It only took a glance at Jolsani’s dress to realize that this was the Kobani. The archery practice came to a standstill, and a hundred eyes were on Jolsani as he urged the big horse into a gallop and headed out toward the open fields.
In the days that followed, Clarian took Jolsani down to the practice fields to work on archery and the lance. Jolsani left his short bow in the officers’ quarters and took up the longer Karran bow and became quite proficient with it, to the encouraging cheers of the Karran archers. They seemed to like Jolsani, and there were eager exchanges during which he used his growing Karran vocabulary. For Jolsani’s part, he overcame his shyness and distrust of strangers, namely the Karran, and did not require Clarian to be constantly by his side, although he would not go into the city without his cousin.
Jolsani was overwhelmed at the sight of the towering walls of the Citadel and stunned by all the houses and buildings of the city. When Clarian could spare the time, he took Jolsani to visit shops that sold clothing, furniture, kitchenware, pottery, and leather goods and the open-air market, which featured fresh fruits and vegetables brought in daily from the nearby farms. People stared at Jolsani but were polite, as Karran people are, and answered his halting questions with patience and friendliness. There were hard looks from herders who came into the city from the Grasslands, remembering how dangerous the Kobani were, but Clarian ignored them, and Jolsani did not seem to notice.
The meeting hall in the Citadel was filled with senior Citadel officers seated around a very long wooden table and along the walls on benches. Jolsani sat between two archery officers who had befriended him. On the wall was a very large map of all the known lands. This had been drawn up at Clarian’s orders, based on what he knew and what was known through reports by travelers and scouts.
Clarian waited until Rokkman joined them, along with the senior commanders from the last war, Martan, Tobran, and Amran among them.
“The Flamekeeper believes the Maggan will remain in their forest fastness now and will not venture out again. We gave them a terrible beating,” said Clarian.
The room erupted in loud affirmations, and after the noise died down, Clarian went over to the map. “But I take a different view. I think they will attack us again, but I don’t know when. They were humiliated, especially when we attacked and burned their city. We have received information that a large body of Maggan traveled northeast to a land populated by a people known as the Drumaggan, a cousin tribe of night people. Drumaggan means the Maggan of the north. I think they are trying to gather additional forces to make a sweep against us. They intend to outnumber us.”
Rokkman spoke. “I don’t believe they will attack us again. Neither does the Flamekeeper. But for sake of argument, when could they come against us after the horrific defeat we handed them?
“I don’t know. How deep is their hatred of us? How deep is their hunger for the Flame?”
The room was silent as the officers sat thoughtfully assessing these questions. Clarian pointed to the map. “Up there at the top are the Drumaggan lands. It would take some time to travel down from that land through the Forest of Darkness and into our country. But we would have to be ready long before they got here.”
“What if we attack them first and destroy them? Finish the task once and for all,” offered Martan.
There were nodding heads among the officers.
“We are not prepared. Much of our army has gone home to the farms and rangelands and the towns. We could not catch the Maggan by surprise this time. They watch us from the forest’s edge. We chase their patrols back into the forest. They probe our readiness constantly. Besides, the Flamekeeper has ordered peace.”
“What is your plan, Clarian?” asked Rokkman.
“I traveled to Madasharan and talked with our cousin people there and asked for their help in the event of an attack. I believe they may help us. I also tra
veled to the land of the Kobani. You have all met my cousin, Jolsani.” Clarian gestured toward him. “I asked for their help, too. I do not know what they will do. The Karran have fought against the Kobani for many years out in the Grasslands. There has been much hatred between our peoples. For them to join us against the Maggan would be unexpected. That is why I have brought Jolsani here, that he may see the Karran people for himself. And maybe I’ll show him a Maggan or two.”
The officers laughed, and Jolsani grinned. Rokkman shook his head and motioned at Clarian, who shrugged, as if to say, “What can I do?”
Clarian reached behind him and took Jolsani’s bow from where it had been leaning against the wall and held it up. “One other thing. This is a Kobani bow. It is shorter than ours. It does not shoot as far, but it does well from the back of a horse at close range. Many of you have seen Jolsani demonstrate what he can do with this bow on horseback. Jolsani can shoot three times faster than our mounted archers. With training, our soldiers can release their arrows as rapidly as a Kobani warrior. Jolsani is now helping with this. If the Maggan come again, they will face a wall of arrows.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Neevan left the enclave without a farewell to Ferman. After the uproar at the banquet, she decided to return to Minteegan. Having inquired among her soldiers as to who would like to go home, she assembled a band of volunteers and rode out the following night as the red sun dropped below the western forest. It was cool in the high country, and she had enjoyed the city and the inhabitants, but she was eager to see her mother, who had been unwell since the attack by the Karran, and she missed her cavern home and the forest she loved.
On the way back they met a few traders who carried the news that the reconstruction of the underground city was well under way. The fields had been replanted, and horses and cattle purchased from the Drumaggan were being herded down the trail to replenish the losses the Maggan had suffered in the Karran raid. Even with this resupply, their livestock numbers were sadly low.
The previous few days of traveling had been unpleasant, for a rainstorm had moved in and drenched the riders. By the time Neevan and her band entered the upper reaches of the forest, everyone was tired and miserable, but the forest canopy gave good protection from the continuing downpour, and the road through the forest was less muddy, making travel easier. It was with some relief that they came upon forest clearings where horses and cattle grazed, and fields were planted with vegetables and grain. Farmers were working the fields, and the occasional rider was herding animals. It was late at night when they came into sight of the cavern mouth. The whole area was crowded with wagons carrying building supplies and food down into the city and people heading in from the fields to return to temporary homes near the entrance and some, who were fortunate enough to have newly built houses, going down into the cavern. After turning the horses over to the grooms at the compound located near the entrance to the cavern, Neevan dismissed her soldiers, and they all made their way to their homes. It was dawn, the end of the Maggan day.
Neevan’s mother was overjoyed to see her daughter. After a hot meal, Neevan presented her mother with the gifts she had purchased from the Drumaggan and told her all about her visit to the wealthy, cliff-dwelling people, leaving out the part about a possible future war with the Karran.
The next day she would inspect the progress the builders were making in reconstructing the city. She was also interested in plans for defensive walls to be erected to hold back the Karran should they attempt to attack Minteegan again in the future.
After helping her mother into her bed, she sat before the dying fire in the hearth, thinking about Ferman and his plans of conquest, torn between wanting to capture the Flame and wanting peace. Having lost so many friends and comrades in the war and seen so much dying and suffering, she wondered if she was up to another conflict with the Karran. And then there was that strange young man, Clarian, with the clear, blue eyes. A Karran, no less! She smiled to herself and wondered whether she would see him again.
Deep in the night Ferman sat with Zefran, the new Flamekeeper of the Maggan people, in Ferman’s Minteegan apartment, their cups full of wine. Several candles and a small fire in the hearth lighted the room. The stone floor was covered in rich carpets, and the walls were draped in colorful tapestries.
“You know, Ferman, as you’ve described this Clarian, he won’t be easily defeated.”
“We’ll overwhelm him with numbers and sheer force. He’ll have to fall back, and we’ll drive him back to the Citadel. He’ll make his stand there, to protect the Flame, and he’ll die there.”
Zefran, a younger man than Ferman, listened, his dark hair combed straight back, his heavy mustache drooping over thin lips. “Maybe, Ferman. Maybe. But he is no ordinary warrior.”
“I have a superb plan.”
“Wars are won or lost by someone’s mistakes.”
“What do you mean? He won’t be able to stop two armies at one time. And he won’t be able to ambush us this time. We will share in the joy of possessing the Sacred Flame! Can you imagine that, after all this time?”
“Force is one thing, but force sometimes has its short comings. Look at what happened to you, and you had the greater force of troops.”
“Ah!” Ferman drank deeply from his cup and wiped his wet lips with the back of his hand, his eyes flashing in anger at the thought of his humiliation.
“You almost caught the Karran sleeping, and if it wasn’t for Clarian, you would now hold the Flame.”
“True.”
“Why not put the Karran back to sleep while we prepare our armies?”
“They won’t fall for it this time.”
“Maybe they will, if it is done correctly.”
“What do you have in mind, Holy One?”
“Send a message of peace to the Karran. And with it send emissaries to open trade. Lull the Karran into thinking we have changed our warlike ways.”
“Our warlike ways? What about theirs?”
“Exactly.”
Ferman grinned and laughed, his ample belly shaking with mirth. “I am not going. I don’t know who I could send to the Karran. What an assignment! You would have to be with those people during daylight hours and get little sleep. Plus, I don’t know if we could trust the Karran to honor emissaries.”
Zefran pulled at his mustache, his yellow eyes gleaming and sly, as he turned over the possibilities in his mind. “I know who you could send.”
“Yes? Who?”
“This may surprise you.”
“Come on, tell me.”
“Neevan.”
Ferman sat dumbfounded for several moments and leaned back in his chair. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
Zefran laughed. “I am. She has fought against Clarian. She has talked to him. She negotiated the current peace with him. She refused to give you up to him. She even spoke highly of him. She’s perfect.”
“I wonder if she would go?”
“Of course she would go. But you couldn’t tell her of our plans.”
“She already knows. She was there at the banquets and heard all the speeches, remember?”
“But you could lead her to believe that peace is possible with her help. She would be more convincing to the Karran if she believed that peace could be achieved. Remember, this Clarian is smart. He’d smell subterfuge. She can’t know about our plans.”
“Lead my own granddaughter…”
“Stop that way of thinking, Ferman. We’re after the Flame! That’s what is at stake here!”
“She’d never forgive me! Besides, I don’t know whether Clarian would fall for it.”
“Neevan is charming when she wants to be. And she’s beautiful. No man can turn his eyes away from her sheer loveliness. Clarian would be blinded by her, and what could be better for us?”
“Use her as a trap? By the Flame, Holy One, y
ou’re devious.”
“She’ll never know. You’ll find an excuse to break the peace when we are ready to attack. In the meantime, she’ll charm the Karran and this Clarian, and that will give us time to prepare to erase them. Besides, she’ll be able to give us good information about what they are up to, their troop strength and training, all that. That’s better than scouts.”
“Holy One, you are a clever man. This has never been done before. An emissary to the hated Karran dogs…”
“Think of the sweet victory when we storm the Citadel and take the Flame. The dreams of our people, over the countless years, yearning for the Flame. Now, it is within our grasp. We have only to plan carefully.”
Ferman leaned close to Zefran, his face inches away. “Holy One, it is a good plan, although not one that I truly like. I find the Karran distasteful. But if we can put them to sleep with Neevan’s help, when we are ready, we will put them to sleep permanently and forever.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The word had been relayed to the Flamekeeper that the Maggan wanted to talk. Rokkman was sent to the edge of the Forest of Darkness. He waited with a strong contingent of heavily armed Citadel guards at his back, as three Maggan soldiers broke out of the protection of the trees and rode toward them. In a brief exchange, one of the Maggan gave Rokkman a letter for the Flamekeeper. They abruptly turned their horses and galloped back into the dimness of the forest.
Clarian was summoned to the Flamekeeper’s office. He stalked into the room to find Rokkman and Martan seated, conferring with the Flamekeeper.
“Clarian, my son,” said the Flamekeeper, handing the letter to Clarian. “Here is the Maggan proposal. They wish to send an emissary to the Citadel and establish a friendly relationship with us. They even want to conduct trading. It’s all here in this letter.”
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