There were not many things she feared, and while public speaking was not one of them, rejection was.
Taking a deep breath, with every eye in the room upon her, she drew the sword at her side and set it on the floor before her. She noticed that Simon was beaming. Yes, she had to admit, her love of the dramatic was, in at least a small way, a result of her respect for him. She’d been forced, since that horrible day twenty years ago, to walk in the foot treads of the giant who was her mother. Despite that, she felt that she had measured up and part of her knew that she would continue to measure up.
“Friends,” she began “from time immemorial, the vykati have fought against a world that has attempted to destroy us—a world that has allowed itself to be ruled by its own fear and superstition. Time and again, we have been tread upon and time and again we have risen, wiser and more powerful.” She took a few steps to her left and continued, “We could have, as a people, allowed others to dictate our destiny, or allowed ourselves to wallow in despair and be overrun, but instead we have eschewed a martyr’s mentality, and risen over and over again to meet our challenges.
“And now, that world that has so often attempted to reject us, stands threatened by forces from without. We could stand haughtily and arrogantly away from the conflict and allow what the lesser of us might call divine justice, to happen to those who may or may not have risen to our defense if our roles had been reversed. But I, for one, will not stoop to that level.
“We could allow that terrible force to overcome the rest of the world and hope that by the time it comes to our lands, by the time it threatens our people, it will have been worn down enough and ceased to be a threat. But I, for one, will not stand by idly and allow that to happen. I will not leave the fate of the people of Terah, vykati or otherwise, to such chance.” She walked back to where she’d originally stood and tried to catch the platoon leader’s eye, but he looked away.
“We could leave our former enemies to their fate and live only to protect ourselves. We could leave the world to its new conquerors and try to make peace with them as the enemy of our former enemies. But I, for one, will stand on the side of right. I will not allow evil to trample across the globe. I refuse to call that evil by the name of divine justice. I will call it what it is: pestilence, famine, destruction.” She looked out over the platoon. Every eye, except the lieutenant’s, was on her. Was this how her mother felt that day? Had she also been unsure how many, if any, would dare to follow her? Were they looking in her eyes out of respect: a respect that they could not or would not match in courage?
“Today you must decide where you stand. Today I ask you: resign the post that asks you stand idly, and sign on with those that will bring the fight for Terah’s freedom to the forefront.” And then she repeated the words of her mother, that she’d memorized as a young lady, “'There is no cowardice in refusing to face such odds as we face now. There is no hope for us, only hope that we can slow the advance long enough to protect our people. Here I stand. This I will defend. Cross by my sword and add yours to the line only if you are willing to die for your country.’”
There was silence for a long few seconds and then, a snap could be heard as Sergeant Tess faced left and began marching around the formation. She continued to march until she stood almost nose to nose with Sajani. She drew Simon’s sword from its scabbard and raised it in a salute, then briefly broke her military demeanor, smiled and set the sword down next to her own on the ground. “My lady,” she said sincerely, “I can still hear the cannons.” Then she stepped behind Sajani and fell silent.
One at a time, starting with the first soldier of the first row of the formation and in orderly single file from there, they approached her and tossed their swords upon the quickly growing pile and as they did so, they smiled at her and said, “My lady, I can still hear the cannons.” It was the most glorious and dramatic moment of her life. Simon was obviously very proud. He followed the soldiers and while he had no blade to add, he bowed deeply before her and said, “You are your mother’s daughter to be sure, my lady. I can still hear the cannons.”
Simon was followed by Ginger and Doc Cutter. Then, to the shock of all present, Ambassador Ghenis rose and walked before her. He bowed deeply, drawing a hidden sword from his cane, which he dropped between them. She didn’t know that the old wolf she’d seen the day previous could still balance himself so well without support and realized it must be taking a supreme effort on his part. His voice showed that he was concentrating heavily to stay balanced. “The Lady General of my people, you will always be. I, too can still hear the cannons, and in the name of all that is good in this world, I pray they will never be silent to my people’s ears.” He rose and took a few steps, proudly upright, to stand behind her.
That left only the forlorn platoon leader, who had been unable to meet her eye.
“My lady,” he said without lifting his eyes to hers, “I will not resign my commission.”
“And I won’t think less of you for it,” she responded. “Return to your post lieutenant. There is no shame in serving in the Vharkylia Army.”
And with that, and not another word, he left.
She turned to face the rest. “Thank you,” she said. She didn’t feel like she needed to say any more than that. “I am overwhelmed in the face of your courage. I’ll have your assignments by tomorrow morning and we’ll move out shortly after that.”
“You can’t possibly mean to keep the Ambassador with us,” Tess was saying. “He’s old. He can barely walk without help.” They were meeting in the old wolf’s office. He’d encouraged them to use it, since it was one of the more private (and he winked as he added, “and less listened to”) places in the embassy.
“He gave his word,” Sajani said with resolve. “I won’t make light of it by not holding him to it. Besides, Doc Cutter can use an assistant.”
“Great!” Tess added sarcastically, “Someone old enough to be my grandfather can have someone old enough to be my great-grandfather helping him out. And,” she added, “Cutter isn’t his name. It’s what we call him. You should probably know that.”
Sajani didn’t comment.
“He’s probably more needed here.”
Sajani let out a melancholy laugh and tossed a display box that had been sitting on the desk to her.
The sergeant’s eyes went wide. She read the citation at the base aloud. “'May Ahj, Komal and Indira have witness that the Drtithen Council and Riteyai Lords have seen fit to award the National Medal of Valor to Lieutenant Colonel Rass “Claw” Ghenis of the Second Regiment and Twenty-Second Infantry Battalion for selfless service during the Rhidayar Border Skirmish.” Tess looked up at her with her eyes wide, but returned to reading almost immediately, “Lieutenant Colonel Ghenis led the charge of his battalion against Rhidayar forces in the battle to retake the chapel located at Altaza, Vharkylia on 23 Chandra 1457. He engaged the enemy with rifle, and once out of ammunition, with saber.
“'Taking a shot to his left leg early in the battle, he refused treatment on at least three different occasions and sent medics to heal soldiers more wounded than himself. When the battle turned and left him and his aide stranded without support, Lieutenant Colonel Ghenis refused to leave his stricken aide behind, but despite his wounds, carried her back to friendly forces for treatment, taking three grazing shots to his side in the process. Despite the loss of blood and without regard to his health or safety, Lieutenant Colonel Ghenis rallied his troops for a second charge, taking a second bullet to his left leg. During that charge, his troops lost sight of him, but later passed his position. He’d taken down at least twelve enemy soldiers before being overcome by loss of blood and being left for dead.
“'His selfless and courageous service reflect great credit upon himself, the Vharkylia Army, and the nation he serves. Presented this day, 15 Zula 1457.
“'I can still hear the cannons.’”
Sajani didn’t interrupt and Sergeant Tess apparently could not bring herself to stop readi
ng once she started. In a very subdued voice Tess added, “I’m sorry my Lady. I understand now.”
“He pulled it from a desk drawer to show it to me and actually seemed somewhat embarrassed by it,” Sajani told her. “He said he wanted to serve with Malita’s daughter, since he couldn’t have been there for my mother.”
“Did you know about him before he showed you this?”
“No,” Sajani said thoughtfully. “I knew someone named Ghenis led the charge, but I would never have guessed that was him. I’ve walked among too many giants to recognize them all. In his case, better to die with us than die in a chair here.”
“It is a good omen, my Lady.” Tess told her. “That you’ve met someone that worked near your mother.”
“An omen of some kind, at any rate.” She didn’t mention the old woman at the shop. “What about this spark? He seems trustworthy enough and we can use someone to help figure out the elf magic and equipment, but…”
“I like him!” Tess confided.
Sajani wasn’t sure what to say to that.
The look Tess was receiving wasn’t lost on her. “It’ll be fine,” Tess reassured Sajani. “As far as Sparks go he’s…”
“…young.” Sajani said flatly.
“You’re just used to the old sparks, but to live that long, they have to be pretty tame.”
“Tame can be good…” Sajani began.
“But not nearly as fun!” Tess exclaimed.
Having never seen this side of Tess before, Sajani thought it might be best to drop this topic. She’d tasked the young sergeant with finding out if Ginger could help them and she wasn’t the sort to second guess her subordinates without very good reason. Besides, Ginger had managed to show them how to safely use the elven weapons. They’d see what he could tell them about the transports tomorrow. “You don’t question my choice of Ambassador Ghenis…” Tess tried to interrupt, but Sajani kept going, “… and I won’t question your choice of Ginger…”
“Deal.” Tess added before the name was even off Sajani’s lips. “I’ll get with Lieutenant Marshel then, and make sure he has everything before he leaves. There’s only so much we can commandeer.” She quickly and neatly jumped out the door. “I’ll leave you to your business, my lady.”
Sajani took a moment to place the medal and its display back in the rather large desk drawer it had come from. When she looked back up, Simon was just entering the room.
“Well, that’s done it, my Lady,” he said softly. “All packed and ready to go. I’ll need to be leaving shortly.”
He caught her eye briefly and she was surprised that he actually looked away from her. Good, she thought, he should feel guilty leaving at this point.
“I wish,” he began lamely.
“Don’t even start on that again, Simon. I can’t believe you’d shy away like this.”
“I never intended to go with you past Rhidayar.”
“No, but you promised last night…”
“In part I was taken up in the moment,” he began, “and in part, I’m being very true to my word. There is much to be done for you behind the scenes—things I cannot discuss at the moment, but I had this job before we even set out.” He smiled at her: not the ingratiating smile he used so often, but the almost timid smile she’d only seen a few times before. It was like he’d removed his mask and allowed her to see the real Simon Francis.
She’d only asked him to take her to Rhidayar. The days of them traveling together had been over for a long while now and parts of it, she honestly didn’t miss.
“I can say, though,” he added rather clumsily, “I’ll be meeting up with an old friend and he might be interested in helping out. Mauro is back on the western continent. “
She nodded slowly, mostly trying to placate him and hide the emotions coming to the surface. The next days would be frightening and the presence of her old friend would have done much to help her keep up appearances with her crew. Simon was a catalyst for those wishing to keep up a good façade.
He placed his hands on her lower arms and looked up at her. “I will be back, my Lady,” he said softly, “and when I am, you will be so grateful for what I’ve done.”
She pushed him away from her. “Get to your business, you old gong farmer.” Her voice was harsh and pitiless.
He turned and walked out
The old tailor at the shop was waiting for her when she arrived the following day. Saheeba and Bashim were dressed differently than before, in their Jahma finest. She curtsied as Sajani entered and her grandson, taking the cue from her, bowed low.
“Lady Sajani,” the poor old wolf said with a shaking voice, “I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize you. I should have known when Bashim said you looked so much like your mother. And then right after you left all the expatriates in the city were in a frenzy with the news that you were performing magic in the streets.”
Sajani gave a polite little cough to interrupt Saheeba and then motioned for her to rise. The old woman and her grandson rose, still beaming at her. The old wolf motioned to a display dummy near her where the armor the vykati woman had ordered stood in glory. She touched its sleeve and ran a finger down the side. There was not a single blemish on the leather.
“When the others learned it was for you, they all pitched in,” the old wolf said excitedly. “Alhan the tanner brought a special order of leather, dyed with dyes straight from Yenhel the alchemist. Mr. Merts came by with some silk thread for us, imported from Jzianrhun. And don’t you worry, noble lady, it’s all paid for. Not a one of us would take a cent from you.”
Sajani continued to stare down at the armor. She’d just wanted something to get her by until she could afford better. She hadn’t expected this. Lifting it carefully from the display, she looked askance at Saheeba. Bashim caught her unasked question and folded out a curtain for her to change behind.
The old woman continued, “There’s some gem work on the cuffs, collar, and belt. Those came from ol’ Teng.”
Sajani gasped when the chest piece changed slightly on its own to fit her.
“That’d be the work of our local magician, Calmar. He’s not a vykati, but he got caught up in our spirit. It’s already fitted exactly to you, but a little magic will go a long way to keep your fur from binding.”
When she stepped from behind the curtain, she was surprised to see Ambassador Ghenis standing in the doorway. He was holding a long and narrow black box in his hand, bound by a rust colored ribbon. He had a smile on his face as he hobbled towards them. A few other vykati whom she didn’t know entered the shop behind him, followed by a very old human wizard.
Bashim ran up to her, dragging a tall mirror on wheels and she was able to admire the armor. Its background was a deep black with rust colored highlights. The gem work was done in blues and reds. On the right chest was a symbol she’d not seen before: a rust wolf’s head silhouette with crossed cannons behind. The banners above and below it read, “I can still hear the cannons.”
Ambassador Ghenis cleared his throat and held out the box to her. She opened it to find a saber with a copper guard and a blackened blade. She held it out before her to test its balance, which was perfect, and took a careful swipe to her right to hear it sing.
She smiled as she struck a swashbuckling pose. A little public facing wouldn’t hurt.
“Behold the Copper Wolf, the Lady of Rust.” Ambassador Ghenis said dramatically. A crowd that had formed behind him cheered. Sergeant Tess and the troops were there already. There was food. She wasn’t sure who had provided it, but anyone who came up on the street was welcome to it. A group of musicians had taken up stage just outside the shop and as they started to play, Ambassador Ghenis held out his hand and bowed before her. “May I have the honor, my Lady?” He asked.
He had to lean on her a lot and he was far from quick on his feet, but there was a certain stiff gracefulness to him that spoke greatly of a younger self. He never once stepped on her. “How much did this cost the embassy?” she asked him.
“You?”
“Nothing,” he repeated.
She couldn’t resist casting a little spell. She tried to hide it from him, but apparently, he was too clever for her.
“Nothing,” he said yet again. “My lady I paid nothing for all this. Not even the sword.” He was looking her right in the eye and had been for the whole dance. She was barely taller than him.
“Then who?” she asked.
“Hope.” He said. She was surprised that his comment registered as truth.
“Who is Hope?” she asked, guessing that maybe he was referring to some wealthy citizen.
Ambassador Ghenis laughed. “You know all about hope, my lady. You’re the one who carries it with you.”
She scoffed at the diplomatic double talk he was pawning off on her. “It doesn’t pay the bills. I want to know who I owe. Who paid for all this?”
“They did.” His eyes swept the expanse of people, vykati and human, who were around them. “And you have already repaid them.”
“Each person donated some…”
“No, my lady, each person gave of himself.”
“I owe them something.”
The ambassador laughed and said “You’ve paid them already. Your currency is hope. There are forces in the world, powerful forces, that they know are coming their way. You stand between them and those forces, not because you have to, but because you want to. And you turn their despair to hope. You may feel indebted to them, but you have already paid that debt in full and will continue to overflow their coffers in the days to come.”
Wolf's Pawn (Sajani Tails Book 1) Page 7