by Andrew Wood
Slipping back out of the door, he turned the corner onto an adjoining side street, and bumped into two men coming the other way. There was a silence, and for a moment, Jared thought his disguise, had been revealed. The two men were turncoats, the name given to Bashek citizens who served the Darekians. Jared kept his hooded head low, trying to keep the light off his face.
He noticed how the two men appeared unsure of him. If he were a Darekian, he would surely be admonishing them, as they were inferior they should be apologising and pleading for mercy. He was certain one of the men had noticed his face was not tattooed, and was lowering his hand to his sword. Jared had already slipped out his dagger, under his cloak. As quick as a flash he plunged the blade upward, into the first man's throat. Not dwelling, he pulled it back and lashed across the second man, catching him across the face.
The first man clasped his hands up towards his neck, making a gurgling sound, and falling to his knees. Blood spewed out between his fingers and fell face forward onto the ground. The second cried out, as the blade slashed upwards across his face, gauging an eye. Jared did not give the man anytime to recover; he quickly stepped behind him, and slit his throat. The fight lasted little more than a few seconds, and Jared gazed about afraid the cries may have drawn attention to further guards patrolling the area.
At first, he was going to leave the bodies to be found by others, and then he changed his mind and decided to move them. He dragged them one at a time, and dumped them on the floor, inside the house he had just been exploring. If as he thought, no one checked the empty houses, it would make sense, the bodies would not be found. He just hoped the family never came back, or else would find a rather unpleasant surprise awaiting them. Making sure the door was shut properly; he pulled his hood back up and taking the slow deliberate steps of a Darekian, made his way back to where Kaden sat waiting.
On returning and telling his colleague, Jared was somewhat surprised by the other man's reaction. "You fool, now when they find them, twenty innocent people will be slaughtered," Kaden shouted at him. Despite his claims he was certain the corpses would not be found anytime soon, his friend was still angry. "At least I am doing something," he finally answered. The two left it at that, and sat in silence. The being cooped up together in the dim dirty little room was starting to affect them. Since their arrival, more citizens had died because of them, than Darekians.
In New Easton, General Skalton was sat at his desk, with his assistant Levin, going through the mass of notes and statements from the soldiers and recruits that had fought the Orlacs. He was continually impressed by the information given by one of the recruits, a young man known as Dane. Not only had he given a good account of what had happened, but he had also suggested a number of options for fighting the beasts. Something that none of the regular soldiers had seemed fit to do.
The two of them sat on opposite sides of the desk, trying to devise methods and tactics, to give them the upper hand in their fight with the Orlac. Reading the individual accounts of the engagement, Levin could almost picture the fight in his mind. It sounded a somewhat gruesome affair, and he was glad he was not there. From reading the reports, it was obvious a lance thrust by a rider charging gave an instant kill. This however, would not work if the creature were anticipating the charge.
More than one report had said how ineffective arrows had been, and with a report from the King himself, on his experiences, confirmed it took many hits to have an effect. Caldar had written that it had taken fifty archers, firing two or three times, to down just five beasts. This was also from a distance of no more than fifty paces, and firing downwards.
It was obvious the thick hair and tough skin of the demonic creature, meant the standard broad head arrows used did not puncture deep enough. As far as fighting other men, these were always the best for causing damage. Levin made a suggestion, "Sir, my father used to make a sort of hybrid arrow head." The General gestured for him to explain. "Some of the local folk, near the foot hills of the Ulga Mountains, had problems with bears coming down attacking their livestock. A standard broad head did not bite deep enough."
He picked up a piece of paper and asked if he good show the General with a sketch. Using a charcoal pencil, he drew as best he could remember the shape of arrowhead, his father had made. It was a little like a bodkin arrow, in that it was thin, and used for puncturing thick armour. However, the head tapered wider. The General looked at the sketch. It had the puncturing ability of a bodkin, and then the damage of a broad head. "My only doubt is, it looks a little large. Will the arrow still fly true with such a weight?"
Levin nodded, "The men who used them, did say that they carried nearly as far as a normal arrow. However, they also mentioned they had to greatly increase the elevation of the shot, because of the extra weight. This did mean the head struck at a slightly different angle, and caused even more damage, because it was falling from an extra height." The General looked quite pleased with the explanation, "you know Levin, you genuinely never cease to amaze me."
The General scribbled on a piece of paper, and signed it. Then he used a candle flame to melt a blob of red wax, before pushing his mark upon it. "This is an order. I want you to take it down to our blacksmiths, with your sketch there. Explain to them what you mean. Get me a hundred made as soon as possible, and we can get them tried out." Levin saluted, took the papers, and quickly darted out of the office, and down the stairs.
The building work in New Easton was still proceeding, and with hundreds of men working on various projects, some progress was being made. Housing still was the top priority, and though still vast numbers were forced to live in tents and temporary builds, the numbers being permanently homed increased daily. The city wall was pretty much taken care of; though some pointing work was needed, it was deemed a non-essential task, and one to be done later. The dock area at the riverside was now taking shape; the wooden planked wharf would soon be ready. As it stood the area was outside the city walls, and work had started for part of the wall be knocked through to allow an entrance direct in the city. For now, goods would have to be unloaded and carted around the base of the outside of the wall, around to the main entrance.
Galliss and his son Darak were having one of their regular meetings with the King. Sat as they were in one of the top floor royal offices, they were discussing the apparent lack of success of the recent markets. The square for traders had been full on the two occasions, the market was held. Unfortunately, not much coin appeared to be exchanging hands. It appeared the city folk were being rather cautious with what little money they were earning.
At the present time, the only real employer was the crown. No businesses were yet up and running in the city, so despite all the work about, no one really had jobs. The army, the palace staff, the city staff that consisted of Lord Galliss and Darak were all being paid by the treasury. All the builders, Carpenters, roofers, glaziers and endless list working on rebuilding the city were all on the crown pay roll.
Caldar was first to admit he was no economic genius, but it did not take one to realise this could not continue forever. Therefore, he wanted ideas and suggestions from the two in his office on how to rectify the growing problem. If they could get business owners up and running, they would inevitably require staff. This of course would mean people not taking out of the nations coffers.
It was not all bad news, as Aric, the elder of the two of Lord Galliss' sons, was in the process of collecting the half-year taxation collection. As the south of Corlan had been mainly unaffected by the destruction, its economic and commercial activity had remained relatively stable. Darak, as treasurer, had advised against increasing the taxes for the people of the south, though not because that included his father's lands. It would have been easy to take more than normal, in attempt to make up the inevitable short fall.
The north, though technically contributing nothing in taxes, had in fact made up for more than would normally have been collected from that area, by means of the fortune donated by Lady
Sarena's estate. Her father was one of the wealthiest nobles, and she had wanted all the fortune to be put in the treasury, to help rebuild Corlan. When Hamalin had fell, Luken had had the foresight to grab as much from the treasury as possible. Though not everything was taken, it was still a large substantial amount. With them being able to take Sarena's entire fortune from Forwich, in real terms the coffers were still quite full.
Darak also put forward an idea, and run it by his father and the king. He suggested that perhaps, as things were not so bad as it looked, every citizen who resided in New Easton be given a tax break. They would pay no duty for any money they earned up until the current year's end. This he hoped would give the people confidence to spend a little. For businesses starting a fresh in the city, he asked for a similar deal. Many of the buildings being built to house business were actually being done so by the very people who wished to run them. Hence, these were not being paid by the crown.
Caldar knew very well that this was the case, as he had had Arthur, Vanessa's father, giving him earache, over that very same subject. He had subsequently had time to think on the matter, and put forward his own idea to Galliss and Darak. He may be the king but he was not that proud he did not ask what others thought. His plan was to give each business a small one off payment, to assist with the building and start up costs. Though giving them a tax break as well, as Darak had suggested, was a good thing also.
As a result, the outcome was now each and every person residing in New Easton, need not worry about any taxation for the rest of the fiscal year. Each new start up would get a single payment, depending on its size, in addition to a tax break. Caldar hoped, perhaps that might be a good enough sweetener to stop Arthur moaning at him. With that, the meeting was bought to a close, and Lord Galliss and Darak left him to stare at his increasingly growing amount of papers.
He was just beginning to feel it all getting to much when the young woman, whom had stolen his heart made her way into his office. She walked over to him, and seductively straddled herself across his lap as he was sat. She leaned forward and kissed him, noticing he was looking rather sullen. "What is the matter my sweet?" she said softly. He nodded at his desk, "that lot seems to get more every day. I really do not know how my father coped. No wonder I never saw him."
She turned to see piles of papers, "delegate dear," she said. "You are the king, get others to do some." He argued he needed to sign and authorise everything. She turned and looked at some of the papers, "so you need to say it is alright for some person you do not know to build a shop near the new entrance to the dock area." He nodded, "I do..." he started to speak, "no you do not. You employ Lord Galliss and a whole host of other men and women to do that. Just like you do not need to do this, or this," she started going through the pile. "And you most certainly do not have to sign an order for more nails, come on Caldar, really?"
She looked at him sternly, "listen, you do not have to do most of this. I know they all come to you and say, are these all right or is that all right. Tell them to do what they think is best, that is why you pay them for heaven's sake." He let her kiss him again, and he smiled, "you could always help me if you like?" She smiled back, "I don't think so." He knew what she said made sense and he did appear to be signing documents for the most trivial of things.
He asked her again for her help, to sort through the stuff he needed to check and the bits he did not. After all, if he finished quicker, that may give him more time to thank her later. She gave him a wicked smile and another kiss, which probably lasted longer than it should have, as they found themselves being carried away with the moment. After their frenzy of passion, the papers upon the desktop had somehow all ended up over the floor. As a result, Sarena had little option but to help sort it, provided she got a repeat performance later.
In Berston Lord Willem was being updated on the latest of the raids. Since attacking with archers a few nights ago, he had repeated the same tactic, though he had tried to vary the times. His scouts sent forward to spy on the enemy encampment, reckoned they did have a small success the first time, and a little less the second. Since then the North Besemians had taken to sitting away from the nearer side of the camp at nights. This resulted in a deluge of arrows landing harmlessly into the ground. "All we are doing my Lord is giving them free ammunition to fire back at us," said one of his men.
It was quite clear they needed a new tactic, but one that still carried little risk. Having not heard of any great uprising in Bashek, he was still stuck with the task of destroying the army camped opposite him, before he could make a move to recapture the city. He was certain his operatives were busy, making nuisances of themselves, and was tempted to send many more. Though he had been told too many would cause suspicion something was going to happen, so left it to just a couple for now.
For now he was stuck here, and though he knew he could overwhelm the enemy opposing him, it would come at a high cost of life. He either needed to draw them out or grind them down, and so set his officers thinking. It maybe that they needed a plan that did offer an element of risk, if that was the only way forward then so be it. He knew all too well that by autumn, many of his men would be needed back south to help with the vast harvests. That was not taking in to account his men had been stuck here now for a couple of months and many of them had not done a thing.
He also still had the problem of spies and undercover operatives in his own camp. Only yesterday, one of his men, on duty near the front line, had been found with his throat slit. With such a vast number in camp, all he could do for now, was to tell his men to be alert, and stay in groups of three or more. As precautions were being taken, it still meant he had been confined to certain buildings, in case the traitors saw fit to try to eliminate him.
Chapter 15.
It had been four days since Jared had killed the two Besemian guards, and hidden the bodies in an empty house. As far as they knew, there had been no further repercussions because of his actions. Jared had earlier even gone back to the house where he had hidden the corpses. He did not wish to go in; he knew too well the smell would no doubt be over-powering; the summer warmth would cause the bodies to decompose quicker. It was clear though that no one had been anywhere near the place, and the door had been as he had left it.
This lack of reaction from the Darekian's had gotten them thinking. Did they even know the two men were even missing? They had surmised that the Besemian's, who served the Darekian Guard, were probably not even considered important. They aimed to prove any theories, and so lay in wait for their next victims.
It was barely dark, and both Jared and Kaden stood quietly in a side alley. They both had on their stolen long cloaks of the Darekian's, with hoods pulled over their heads. Three men armed with swords walked past their position, and the two gave them ten paces before moving out to follow them. Making sure they kept a little distance, with daggers drawn under the cover of their cloaks, they waited until the men turned down a quiet side street.
Once satisfied the coast was clear, both Jared and Kaden closed the gap. Moving swiftly, they each selected a target. Jared grabbed the back of a man's head, and pulled his knife blade across his throat. Two men gurgled and spluttered as they fell to the ground. The third was stabbed twice in the lower back. Jared quickly scoured the area, before dragging a body down a narrow alley. Kaden followed suit, before dumping one corpse and fetching the third.
The three bodies were dumped in a rundown building that looked as if it could probably fall down, if anything more than a light breeze blew against it. Happy there deed had gone unnoticed they returned to their own part of the city, and into the house they had been using. Now they would wait a few days and hope absolutely nothing regrettable happened.
With the bright summer sunshine, making it a beautifully warm day, the last of the oversized targets were erected on the training ground south of New Easton. General Skalton and Levin slowly trotted their horses side by side, as they left the city, to watch the outcome of the impending tria
ls. Today the best ten archers would try out the newly designed arrowheads. Levin had a pang of anxiety, and the thought of failure gnawed away at him. This was all his doing, all this work and time was down to his idea. Though it had been something, he had recalled his father making in Lanber.
The targets were set at two hundred paces, and made from wood, and roughly shaped and sized to that of an Orlac. At least, he thought, with targets quite large the archers stood a chance of hitting them. As they arrived, he could tell straight away the men selected for firing the new arrows were not overly convinced the outcome would be a foregone conclusion.
Positioning themselves behind the archers, General Skalton was passed up an arrow with the new larger head on. He examined it closely, and then placed it across his palm, judging the weight. He passed it over to Levin, "here, what do you think. It does feel very top heavy to me." Levin held it, and even with the little he knew, thought the arrowhead must have weighed twice that of a normal broad head. However, the shape and size seemed about that of which his father used to make.
The archers lined up, and the field ahead of them was cleared. These men may be crack shots, but firing these for the first time could well see a few wayward arrows. "When you are ready," General Skalton said. Levin puffed out his cheeks and looked across to his left to see Jak watching. Well not just Jak, but the entire load of the new recruits as well. He gingerly gave a little wave, and Jak gave him the thumbs up.
Each archer placed an arrow onto his bow and pulled back, aiming as they would normally for the large targets. They all released simultaneously, and Levin watched in horror, as everyone thumped into the ground some fifty paces or more short of the target. He had remembered what he had already explained to the General, that the men his father made them for had described the need for increasing the elevation of the shot. "Sir," he said quietly, "do not forget they need to adjust the elevation, to allow for the increased weight."