K B Forrest - [Fire Chronicles 04]

by Banner of Fire [eXtasy MM] (epub)

  The silent and furry form he was curled against stretched into the shape of a man. In the dark, Bulliwuf’s silver eyes reflected the stars in the sky. He put his arms around Atar.

  “I am happy to have you for my own, at least for this little time.” He covered Atar’s face with his sweet kisses. Bulliwuf’s long arms wrapped around him. His hot body rubbed against Atar, whose breath caught as the familiar but exciting sensations flooded him. He wrapped his legs around Bulliwuf’s body, opening himself for the one for whom he never stopped yearning. Finally, Bulliwuf brushed the hair away from Atar’s sweaty cheeks and looked at him. Atar wanted to look away.

  “No, I like to see you as I make you cry out. I never get tired of you, sweet Atar.”

  They stayed in each other’s arms until the rosy fingers of dawn touched the sky.

  Atar rode back into the town at dawn, making his way back to the inn. He opened the door and walked in scowling. Tiptoeing around the tables and chairs, he made his way to the bar.

  The woman from yesterday poked her head in and withdrew with a squeak. The man came in with a heavily laden breakfast tray.

  “No, no, I only came for directions,” Atar said.

  “To the Wildlands?” the man asked as the woman emerged from the doorway.

  “No,” Atar said, “to the Army of the People.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Gone? What do you mean gone?” Kava bellowed, impatient with the translator.

  “Gone,” Beerta repeated, unruffled.

  “Kava, sir, she does not know where he is,” Heslin the Speaker mage said timidly.

  “Honestly, I can’t imagine what the fuss is about,” Sugreeva said from his position lounging on some blankets. “You’ve got me. Clearly, this situation needs to be taken into hand by a true leader. Servant, fetch me some wine!” Sugreeva ordered a passing soldier. Beerta gave him a fond look and Sugreeva’s face blanched.

  “Listen, Kava,” Princess Sophene said, “there is no sense in panicking. This situation calls for action. If you set up your forge, General Monases and General Tiridates can begin training the new recruits. I’m sure there are artisans among the newcomers that will lend their skills to the cause. I will issue an order for all skilled persons to report and then we can begin to give out orders. Meanwhile, I shall appoint overseers to see to it that all have adequate food and blankets before the night sets in. I understand there has been no effort thus far to regulate such things?” Sophene inquired.

  “Uh…no. Okay, set up my forge you say?” Kava asked.

  “The sooner the better. Your skills in particular are most vital. Take as many assistants as you need. Atar’s absence shall not be spent idly. Come now,” Sophene said, gesturing to two men to follow her.

  As Sophene made her way swiftly toward her own tent, she cast an eye over the now enormous Army of the People. It had been quite a shock yesterday when they saw Kava and the Banner of Fire at the head of his somewhat ragtag force. For a few tense minutes, everyone had been convinced that an attacking force from the capital had been sent to hunt them down. When Kava had mentioned the name of the Horde’s chieftain, everyone settled down. Now came the mammoth task of keeping up the spirits of the people until the Firestarter could be located.

  Three hours later, Sophene reviewed the list of skilled persons. General Monases and General Tiridates stood before her. The sound of Kava and his assistants hard at work filled the air adding to the excitement and bustle of the camp.

  “Interesting, how very fortunate,” Sophene said rolling up the list and walking briskly through camp. “Pity we have so little money. Get these cooks in there and see if you can take command of these hunters. They will have to work fulltime to supply enough food for this lot.”

  Princess Sophene and the two generals sidestepped a woman with an enormous bundle of blankets in her arms.

  “At once, Princess,” General Tiridates said. “We have some good news to report as well. Kava has received an enormous donation of iron from the people. It will be no trouble for him now to convert all those pots and pans and shovel ends to swords, spears, and armor.”

  “Excellent. That takes a worry off my mind. What of our bows and arrows supply?”

  “There are four skilled craftsmen already hard at work on that. We have a number of people working on arrow production as well,” General Tiridates said.

  “Good, excellent! General Tiridates, have you seen to those volunteers?” Sophene asked.

  “Yes, Princess. There will be no shortage, in fact my officers have too many to train. Everyone wants to be on the front line. The acting chieftain’s daughter, Beerta has offered to take on what we can’t handle.”

  “Thank God for that!” Sophene said. “Have we got a total on the number of horses?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Monases said. “There will be enough to mount at least one third of our forces. The Horde, of course, already has mounts, but most of the townsfolk do not.”

  The trio stopped when Sophene caught sight of a rather large group of people. Sophene walked swiftly toward the group sensing trouble. As they approached, the speaker’s agitating voice rose above the general conversations.

  “And here we have come all this way, only to find that the so called Firestarter is not among his band of soldiers. What is one left to think? And now we are asked to give up our pots and pans, and any metal we can spare? I don’t know about you, but I certainly expected more. I came all this way with my wife so that we could seek the protection of the Firestarter’s Royal Farr. But since he isn’t here, what protection are we offered? What the hell do we think we are doing?”

  Sophene pushed her way through the crowd, which hastily made way for her and the two generals once they saw who it was. The speaker’s jaw dropped when he saw who approached and the man hastily gave up his crate to Sophene.

  General Monases and Tiridates handed her up to her vantage point and she turned to face the crowd.

  “As to what we are doing here, I’m sure you all know exactly what we are doing. The Army of the People is making a stand against the injustices perpetrated on us all by the Dragon King. We are lashing out against the corruption that has festered in our beautiful capital since the battle of Larzum and the ascension of Emperor Hergor of Tur. I ask you all to gather your courage, to stand tall despite the hard times to come. I ask you, the people of Persia, to remember your children taken in the tithe, to remember your hunger during the drought, and to remember the rights that are due to us. This is not a venture for the faint hearted. It certainly must have been a surprise to hear that the Firestarter, Atar, was not among us, but that is no reason to lose courage. He will return. I am certain of that. In the meantime, there is so much that needs to be done. Each one of you is needed for the cause. I beg you all to do your part, to fight in whatever way you can. When Atar returns, he will find a vast army standing where a ragtag band of citizens once camped.”

  The cheer that followed Sophene’s inspiring speech drew the attention of others, but she bade them to disperse at once. Many of her words were repeated during the next few days, but Sophene herself felt fear creeping over her. She was not at all sure Atar would return.

  Zohak saw Meruzanes crinkle his nose at the stench of blood. It didn’t bother Zohak anymore. The vizier ushered the cloaked figure forward into Zohak’s poorly lit dungeon study.

  The cloaked figure drew back in alarm, stumbling against Meruzanes when Zohak turned away from the gently trickling pool to face him.

  Hisssss.

  “Ahuramazda save me, oh Lord have mercy on me for my indiscretions!” The cloaked figure babbled as Zohak’s snakes wove in the air around the Emperor’s head.

  Zohak laughed softly and tossed a lock of his hair off his forehead. “Tavos, I’ve been wondering when you’d show your treacherous face.”

  “I’ve…uh that is to say… there have been s-some…uh…”

  “Hurry up, gather your wits. I tire of you,” Zohak said.


  “Uhh…” Tavos cleared his throat and swayed on his feet.

  Zohak smiled as the man’s eyes locked on two bodies thrown carelessly into a corner of the dark chamber. That was where the blood smell was coming from, of course.

  “Emperor Zohak,” Tavos hit the floor, groveling on his hands and knees, “I beg to be of service. I have vital information.”

  “Go on and say it then. Have I not just finished telling you that I am a busy man?”

  “Uh…of c-course, uh…at once…the people, Your M-majesty! They rally against you! I have seen Kava’s army. They mean to march on the capital.”

  There was a ringing silence in the dark chamber and then Zohak laughed. He clutched his stomach and guffawed. Tavos and Meruzanes joined in nervously.

  “What? They mean to march against whom? Let the weakling dogs come. But then,” Zohak paused, considering. He walked to the pool and gazed down into the dark water. “Perhaps I shall – Tavos, you will ready the armies for battle. See to it that the troops from Turania are given superior positions. Their loyalty hasn’t been corrupted by that…person.”

  Tavos babbled incoherently for a moment, then he backed out of the chamber.

  Atar drew Ishria to a halt, his jaw falling open at the sight of the thousands hurrying around in the camp below him.

  “Where the hell did they all come from? There must be thousands down there,” Atar said. His limbs felt like they were made of lead. If he hadn’t been mounted, there was no doubt in his mind that he would have sunk to the ground. “Impossible,” Atar muttered, fighting the intense desire to just stop and settle in for a nice long sleep.

  Bulliwuf loped toward the camp.

  “It’s been a week. A week!” another agitator called out. Princess Sophene broke into a cold sweat. There were no more empty promises she could offer. Desperately, she cast about in her mind for a way to appease the people and keep them working. There had been so much progress in the past few days. It would be a horror if it all stopped now. The new soldiers had been in training long enough for their muscles to be complaining loudly, and the people had been camping out long enough to become disenchanted with the hardship.

  “A week! And there is no Firestarter. Does he even exist? Perhaps Zohak is the rightful King. How can we tell? There has been much hearsay about footprints and boars, but a true king would not leave his people to fend for themselves. We have been kept so busy that there has been no time for us to realize this.”

  “Your Majesty,” General Tiridates said in an undertone, “would you have me remove this person?”

  Sophene knit her brows. “No, I’m afraid the situation is too volatile. It would appear as if we are acting as new tyrants. They are in a mood for rebellion.”

  The agitator’s voice rose. Sophene wondered if she should step in. She had already broken up so many of these little malcontents that she did not want her words to be cheapened by constant application. She also knew that she had nothing to offer but promises.

  “Were we ever this hungry at our homes? Perhaps, but we did not have the added danger of risking our lives. We are being worked like slaves, we have no real shelter, and we are suffering. It is time to return to our homes.”

  Sophene drew in her breath and stepped forward. None of the agitators had ever gone that far, although she knew that just beneath the surface, the desire to return home loomed temptingly.

  “Get off that platform, you traitor to the cause,” Sophene shouted before she had even reached the crate. “What business have you stirring up discontent? Can you imagine if Atar returned at this moment? What a shame your gratuitous display would bring upon us!”

  “I would rather be shamed than dead!” the agitator shouted.

  “Fine! Go home you pack of cowards, hang your heads in defeat, and warm your feet by the fire. Let future generations remember how the Army of the People dispersed all because there was not enough butter to satisfy your appetite. I shall lead whoever has the courage to go without sweets for a few weeks,” Sophene said with bitter defeat lending hardness to her tone.

  Excited chatter in the back of the crowd drew some glances.

  “Firestarter! He’s here?” a man’s voice boomed out.

  “What? Atar has returned?”

  Sophene’s heart leapt. Could it be? She turned to her generals, “Did you hear that?”

  “I’m going to check it out at once,” Tiridates said, but Sophene was already moving off toward Kava’s forges.

  Kava rushed over when he saw her approach. “Did you hear?”

  Atar followed Bulliwuf into camp. People stopped in their tracks, gaping at him as if he were an apparition. The lucky ones who had brought leather or oilskin tents came out to stare and run to spread the news. Atar noted how organized the dwellings and fur bedrolls were. In the distance, he could hear the clanging of iron on iron, as several blacksmiths no doubt were hard at work. His eyes swept over the cook fires. The groups of people were laboring on their appointed tasks. They stopped, exclaiming with wonder when they saw him. He tried not to blush and to sit easily in the saddle, but had the distinct impression that he bounced along stiffly like an imbecilic novice.

  He forced himself to acknowledge the presence of the workers, all the while realizing that his dream was slipping away from him. Every step he took farther into this camp was a commitment that he could not shrug off. There would be no freedom. He would be trapped under a burden of responsibility and duty. There would be no escape from his conscience, from the endless toil…

  The shouts and exclamations of the people began. They came in droves, howling, pressing in close to Ishria and forcing him to go slowly. On impulse, he directed Ishria towards the sound of the blacksmith’s hammer. The sound stopped abruptly. The noise of the people built. Atar continued in the general direction, wondering how Bulliwuf was fairing.

  When Atar reached the blacksmith’s awning, he saw Princess Sophene at once. He pulled a face when he saw Bulliwuf reveling in her attentions, tail wagging insanely, his obscenely long tongue lolling out of his mouth. General Monases and General Tiridates were standing next to the man called Kava.

  Atar dismounted, second-guessing his decision to come after all, as the crowd surged around them. He caught Sophene’s eye for a moment then was swept away. He turned and saluted Kava but was unable to do more.

  Before he knew it, he was seated like a king on heaped up furs before a fire. A goblet of wine was pressed into his hands. Atar’s head was whirling. He needed to think. He stared at the flames before him.

  “So you’ve decided to become one of my generals after all,” said a familiar voice.

  Atar looked up at Sugreeva and Heslin the Speaker Mage.

  Sugreeva settled languidly onto one of the furs. “How marvelous. Servant,” he called to a passing woman. She didn’t turn, caught up in the excitement. “What foul service one gets around here. I do declare I have to give my orders a dozen times before I am heeded.”

  “Most atrocious,” Heslin cooed, placating him.

  “Where is my man?” a booming feminine voice hollered over the general mêlée. Sugreeva ducked his head and turned pale.

  “Oh damn! She’s looking for me again.”

  “Hurry, let us hide! Oh what to do?” Heslin squeaked.

  “There you are,” Beerta boomed. Behind the chieftain’s daughter were Sophene, Kava, and the two generals.

  “You’ve returned!” Sophene exclaimed, the relief clear in her voice. Atar realized suddenly what his absence had put her through.

  “It is good,” Beerta said taking in Atar and Sugreeva. Heslin translated reluctantly.

  “I beg to differ,” Sugreeva proclaimed. “It is not good, with you giving me that leering look. I am aware that I am irresistible, but ladies are required to keep a lid on their passions. I am retiring now to the privacy of my tent.” Sugreeva got to his feet and turned to leave, but Beerta followed him. “Eek! Be gone woman!” Sugreeva squeaked when he saw that she followed him. “Go
away! I will not entertain your favors. Go away, I say!”

  “It is my greatest pleasure to meet you,” the man called Kava said to Atar. “I am so glad you’ve returned. Things were starting to get desperate.” From behind Kava’s form, a young boy peered out at Atar, a starry expression in his eyes. “Please meet our little standard bearer, my son, Jamshir.” Atar smiled at Jamshir, who held a stout spear in his little hands. Kava said, “Show him the Banner of Fire, son.”

  The boy unfurled the banner, revealing its glittering jewels and gold brocade. Atar stared at the finely sewn figure of a boar outlined in stunning jewels. His jaw dropped. “It is gorgeous! I can see how you managed to get such a following,” Atar said after a minute. The figure of the boar burned into Atar’s brain.

  “Get your hands off me! Eek!” Sugreeva squeaked. He came running back to the circle of leaders around the fire, Beerta close on his heels.

  “Do not be shy, little snail,” Beerta called in Mongolian. “I promise to be most careful, my little snail.”

  “What did she say? Heslin! Heslin where are you?”

  “You M-majesty, I-I am here,” Heslin said.

  “Well, protect me, you useless wizard!” Sugreeva squeaked, throwing Heslin into Beerta’s path.

  “Really…uh, Lady Beerta this is most improper, most unbecoming-AHH!” Heslin shouted as Beerta shoved him aside. Heslin fell in a great heap on the floor.

  “Beerta!” an admonishing male voice stopped Beerta dead. Atar turned to look at the man who had acted as the chief of the Horde. “What business have you chasing that little blonde?”

  “It is all in order, Father. I purchased him fairly from the Princess,” Beerta said, her eyes tracking Sugreeva’s hasty retreat.