“But what about the bow?” Saab asked. “Is that not a weapon of death and destruction?”
“On its own, yes. But its role along with the other great weapons is something I believe will be more than just to kill and destroy. I believe that it will serve a far greater purpose than any of us can imagine when the time comes. That is why, I believe it was given to a young woman whose true potential is a mystery even to herself.”
“Unfortunately,” Terri said, jumping in to the conversation. “That means that I have to go soon.”
“Unfortunately it does,” Kayla added sadly. She then handed a silver cup to Terri. “Drink this.” She told her. Terri drank from the cup and it tasted awful. Whatever it was tasted bitter and gritty.
“What is this…” and then she lost consciousness.
Terri awoke with the sun shining on her face through a thick, forest canopy. Her head felt heavy and her eyes hurt from the bright sunshine. There were figures standing above her and as her eyes slowly focused, she saw that it was Kayla with a few people (she couldn’t tell if they were men or women) standing around her wearing cloaks and having bows and arrows. Looking around her, she saw that she had been in a small bed that looked as if it had been carried like a stretcher for a wounded or sick person. She also saw that she was fully clothed and had her short sword on her equipment belt.
“What happened?” She groaned.
Kayla looked down at her smiling, but also a serious expression in her eyes.
“I’m sorry I had to do that to you,” she told Terri. “But at this time, it’s important that you not know how to find the Secret City.”
“What did you do to me?” Terri asked, confused.
“Just gave you a mild sleeping potion.”
“How long have I been asleep?”
“Two days.”
Terri nearly bolted out of the bed; and then, feeling dizzy, nearly fell over.
“Don’t worry,” Kayla reassured her. “During those two days, we have taken you here. You’re only a day’s ride through the hills to the Great Plain and then, less than another day to Kallesh.”
“Ride?” Terri asked.
Kayla then motioned over to someone that Terri couldn’t immediately see. She looked in the direction Kayla had motioned and saw one of Kayla’s guards leading a beautiful, light brown horse that looked somewhat familiar.
“This horse,” Kayla told her, “was a survivor from your battle and we found her in the forest. We fed her, healed her wounds and now she will take you to The White City.”
Terri looked at the gorgeous animal and saw a look in her eyes that seemed to say that she recognized her. Terri stepped up to her and the horse stepped closer to her. She lowered her head allowing Terri to gently stroke her.
Terri then felt Kayla’s hand gently touch her shoulder and she looked to her. Kayla had the bow in her hand and was holding it to her. Terri looked at it as if looking at something that had come to her out of a dream. It didn’t seem real and she felt as though she couldn’t take it. Half reluctantly, she closed her hand around the shaft and she felt the warmth and energy from the bow begin to flow into her again. She took the bow from Kayla and slung it over her shoulder. Kayla also gave her a quiver full of arrows.
“Where’s my stuff?” She asked Kayla. There was a tone in her voice that said that she knew it was time to go.
Kayla gestured to the horse and Terri saw that there were two packs tied onto the horse. Terri then climbed into the saddle and looked down at Kayla wanting to say goodbye, but not knowing quite how to do it.
“I’ve packed some extra provisions for you in the other pack,” Kayla told Terri. There was a hint of crying in her voice and Terri saw a tear begin to form in her sparkling brown eyes. Terri grabbed her hand, which was stroking the horse.
“Thank you for everything.” Terri said gently.
Kayla looked up with her sweet smile, then took Terri’s hand and kissed it tenderly.
“You are welcome in my city any time.” She said.
“But how will I find it?”
Kayla smiled even brighter and said, “Come to this point in the forest and I will find you.”
The Third Causton War
Whereas the first two Causton Wars were somewhat slow in developing, the third war came like a thunderstorm. Several expeditions had been sent to find Causton in the Hills, the Badlands and in the mountains. King Philas even offered a reward to other three nations if they found him and handed him over; but after five years, there was no sign or story of him.
Then, a fleet of ships with plain white sails come up the Serpent River and then a force of ten thousand soldiers began attacking and destroying farms and villages along the river. Causton made sure that it was known that he was in command of the massive force.
They crossed the bridge at Serace and continued their reign of terror until a force of one hundred met them before the city of Beyton and slowed them down. Under the command of a young general named Banner, they used hit-and-run tactics to attack from the forests close to the river to continually engage Causton’s troops. They attacked day and night, never even allowing Causton’s troops one night’s rest. By the time Causton’s new army reached Beyton, his troops were exhausted. Facing an army of equal strength near Beyton and still being battered by Banner’s forces, Causton and his army retreated. However, they were not finished.
They drove north along the same route they had attacked. However, having destroyed the farms and ranches along this route, Causton’s army soon began to run low on supplies. In addition, Walechia’s armies were close behind and growing in strength. Low on food and morale, many of Causton’s troops began deserting and fleeing into the mountain passes. It was rumored that they were Masallan soldiers sent by the King of Masallah to destabilize Walechia in preparation for his own war of invasion. This was never proven. By the time his army reached the Badlands, Causton’s army numbered less than two thousand.
King Philas then entered into a secret arrangement with one of Causton’s generals. In exchange for capturing Causton, the rest of the army would be spared and allowed to go home. The unknown general, without Causton’s knowledge arranged for the bulk of the army to disappear in the middle of the night, leaving only Causton and his most ardent supporters to face the massive Walechian Army. It was believed that Causton would likely surrender and himself be captured.
On the banks of the river, with the rocks and crags of the Badlands at his back, Causton awoke one morning to find only a few dozen soldiers left of his army facing over fifty thousand Walechian troops. Rather than surrender, he led his troops in one last, suicidal charge in which he and all who followed him were killed. None allowed themselves to be captured.
The Causton Wars had taken over twenty five years and cost hundreds of thousands of lives. Farmers lost their farms. Villages were destroyed and the city of Kasabbah was never rebuilt. Its ruins were demolished and a huge cemetery dedicated in its place. Many who supported the former priest scattered into the Badlands, the Hills or disappeared into the other nations.
Many questions remained after the Wars; including who might still be secretly supporting Causton’s beliefs; what happened to his followers and what was Masallah’s involvement in the third war? Had they really supplied the ten thousand soldiers Causton led? King Philas emerged as a hero; as did the young General Banner. But Farraday’s peace, which was supposed to last a thousand years was shattered and an entire generation that had previously never known war became accustomed to armed conflict; expecting the next great war to come at virtually any time.
Chapter Thirty Four
General Grail sat on a rock staring at the campfire. There had been nothing from his master since the battle of the “Merchant’s Gate” almost two weeks previous. No instructions. No criticism. No praise. Neither had there been any word from the Wolfen pack he’d sent into the forest to search for survivors. He reasoned they had likely just run away.
His soldiers were beco
ming more and more difficult to control. They had passed several farms and villages on their sweep across the south. The beasts wanted to destroy and pillage, but he and his officers needed to restrain them; needed to keep them focused. After taking Mobrey, he would need these farms and villages for supplies while the remainder of the army flowed across the flood plain. The stupid animals didn’t understand that. They only knew what they wanted; wanton death and destruction.
Suddenly one of his officers approached him and gave him news he couldn’t believe. He raced to a single tent in the middle of the camp, entered in and found his brother, Krall seated cross-legged and tied to the center post in the tent.
At first he was so amazed, he didn’t know quite what to say. Then he gathered himself and ordered one of the beasts to bring him a chair from his own tent along with two pipes and tobacco. The items were brought and Grail ordered his brother’s bindings cut.
“It’s alright.” He told his officer. “He’s surrounded by five thousand Wolfen. Even if he did get out of this tent, he wouldn’t get far.”
Captain Krall sat silently staring at his brother. His anger made him feel cold and his whole body rigid. There was a part of him that wanted to jump on Grail, grab him and shake him until he told him the truth. Why?
“I know that look, Krall.” Grail told him. “And I know you. You’re too experienced a soldier to have been captured by a bunch of mindless beasts. You wanted to be captured and you were willing to bet your life that I would have ordered that you be captured alive.”
“It wasn’t that much of a risk,” Krall responded, barely restraining the anger in his voice. “I knew wouldn’t have the stomach to be responsible for your own brother’s death.”
“I could have not known.” Grail almost teased.
“You would have known. At the very least, whichever one of those foul creatures that killed me would have bragged about it; possibly even bringing you my head. You can’t have that on your conscience.”
“Don’t be so sure, brother.” Grail argued. “I said I would kill you if I had to and I will.”
“Then why not do it now?” Krall barked at him defiantly.
One of the Wolfen poked its head into the tent.
“Is all good, master?” It asked.
“Everything’s fine. Leave us alone.”
Grail lit his pipe and watching him do it, Krall decided to do the same. The best way to get the information he wanted was to try and put Grail as much at ease at possible. Grail took a few thoughtful draws of the tobacco and leaned back in his chair.
“So, what questions do you have of me?” Grail asked.
“Me? Questions? I thought you were going to interrogate me.”
Grail answered with a confident smile.
“You have no information of any value to me. Everything I need to know in order to accomplish my mission, I already know. You, on the other hand…you do have questions. That’s why you allowed yourself to be captured.”
Krall chuckled a little.
“Allowed myself?” He said in a humorous voice. “What makes you think that?”
Grail sneered in response.
“You’re too skilled and experienced a soldier to have been captured by these creatures. No, you wanted to be caught.”
In between puffs of smoke, Krall nodded.
“So,” Grail continued. “Ask me any question you want. We shall have no secrets between each other.”
Krall took a thoughtful draw from his pipe and then let loose a plume of smoke towards the top of the tent.
“Very well,” He finally said. “Why?”
“Why?” Grail questioned back. “I would think the answer to that would be obvious.”
Krall took another draw.
“Assume it’s not.” He told Grail.
Grail took an even deeper draw from his pipe and leaned back.
“It’s about change, Brother.” He said. “Real change; not some holy war whose only real goal is wanton chaos. No. I mean the kind of change that will change this world forever; and for the better.”
“What is it about this world that you think needs to be changed?” Krall prodded.
“Surely that’s obvious even to you, Krall. A world divided into four parts, all constantly squabbling with each other; all thinking their way of life and culture is superior to the others. How long before these squabble erupt in open warfare? How long before the nations tear each other apart?”
“So you’re waging a war to prevent a war, is that it?”
“It’s more than that. It’s more than just a war. It’s a revolution. What’s coming is a sweeping change of ideas and ways of living. No more bickering among a greedy congress. No more weak King who can’t control those who should never question his commands…”
“So it’s Walechia and its own version of democracy to which you object.” Krall interrupted.
“Democracy has failed!” Grail barked. “More than that, it was doomed from the first place. Democracy is weakness. Democracy is chaos. Democracy is endless and pointless bickering while the ordinary people it’s supposed to represent suffer. What this land needs is strength and purpose. It needs one voice, one rider holding the reins. It needs a king; a true king; one who stands while others rightfully bow before him.”
“And you’re to be that king?” Krall interrupted.
The fire in Grail’s eyes died down and he sat back, as if to rest.
“No,” he finally said. “I am just a simple soldier doing my duty. There is another who will be king and not of just Walechia; but of all the kingdoms of this world. And when he is on the throne, an era of peace will come such as this world has never seen.”
“You’ll forgive me,” Krall added. “If I say that this sounds far too good to be true.”
“Some changes will be more painful than others. Some freedoms will have to be sacrificed for the common good.”
“Ah, there’s the catch.” Krall interjected. “Peace at the cost of freedom.”
“What you call ‘freedom’,” Grail answered sincerely, “I call dangerous to peace. Take freedom of speech for example. All it really accomplishes is argument. People bickering over ideals. Take away those arguments and people will never miss the divisiveness it causes.”
Krall felt amazed and sick at the same time.
“Great lady,” he sighed. “I think you actually believe that.”
“Of course I believe it,” Grail said desperately. “That’s why I’m willing to risk my life to fight for a better world. That’s why I want you to join me.”
Krall almost laughed at him. But he still had to play for some time, he remembered.
“I’ll have to think about it.” He told Grail.
“Don’t give me that.” Grail said gravely. “I’ve known you all my life. I know what that really means. I need your answer now.”
Krall thought carefully about the next thing to say. Some of what Grail had said made sense. Indeed the government of Walechia was divided and King Philas; although a brilliant military commander had shown weakness. But a dictatorship wasn’t a better answer, he reminded himself. And could he really bring himself to kill soldiers he considered brothers? He thought of Kenner and Terri and their missions. Could he bring himself to kill them?
“Don’t make me wait, Krall!” Grail demanded.
And then a human soldier poked his head inside the tent.
“The flame burns blue again, General.” The soldier told Grail.
Grail stood up to leave.
“Keep a sharp eye on him,” He commanded the soldier and referring to Krall. “If he moves a muscle other than to smoke his pipe, kill him immediately.”
Grail raced to the campfire and started moving the creatures away from it, so that he could have a private conversation with his master. He knelt before the blue flames.
“What progress have you made?” The face in the flames asked him.
“We have achieved our first objectives and are less than two days m
arch to the first post at the Wall.”
“Excellent.” The face answered. “But there seems to be something troubling you. What is it?”
“All is well, my master. Everything is under control.”
Suddenly the flame burned brighter and hotter.
“Do not hide your emotions from me, General. There is something you are not telling me.”
Grail bowed his head.
“My troops have captured Captain Krall.” He said lowly.
Suddenly he felt sharp, stabbing pains all over his body.
“I thought I made it clear he was to be destroyed.” The voice hissed. Grail fell to the ground and writhed in agony until his master stopped punishing him. Panting and still feeling some stabbing pains, he recovered himself to his knees.
“It will be done, master. I swear it.”
“See that it is done, immediately.” The face demanded. “You are not the only one capable of commanding my army.”
Feeling morose and frightened at the same time, Grail took his sword and headed towards the tent where he would find his brother. A hundred voices sounded as if speaking to him at once; some telling him that he could not kill his own flesh and blood; others reminding him of the consequences of if he didn’t. When he came to the tent, he saw a sight that thrilled and scared him at the same time. The two Wolfen guards outside the tent were both dead and their bodies ripped open. He looked inside the tent and saw that the guard he had placed inside had also been killed. Krall was gone.
Chapter Thirty Five
After killing the guards, Krall gutted one of the Wolfen and spread its blood and some of its gore all over him to hide his scent. Moving as silently as possible, he then went about the next part of his plan. He didn’t want to do this to the guards at the tent to give his idea away; and so he waited and then hunted along the edge of the encampment. He found two Wolfen sitting and watching the area in front of them. He snuck up behind them, killed them both and then skinned one of them. After doing so, he put the Wolfen’s pelt over his own body and hollowed out its head to cover his own. He knew he wouldn’t look exactly like a Wolfen, but he would look well enough and smell enough like one to be able to sneak through the encampment.
The Black Sword Trilogy: The Poacher Page 20