Sensing weakness, Kutrik was more determined and came at him with a flurry of volleys, driving him about the room. One of his passes got through and wounded Satreka in the left thigh deeply, causing him to fall backward onto the floor, very near the place where the battle had begun. He made no effort to back away as the big man came and stood over him.
Kutrik was struggling for breath as he said, “Honestly, I wish you would have reconsidered this situation. I always enjoyed our working together. Your insight was refreshing and bold, and I hope in your next life you will put it to good use.”
The clan leader raised his sword with the point down, ready to thrust it into Satreka’s chest. At that moment, a bright flash of green light in the far corner of the room took everyone aback. As the light quickly diminished, from within it Juun and Natilya appeared.
“Natilya?” Satreka was desperate. “Juun, what are you doing?!”
“Nice trick, my young friend, but it will not save you,” Kutrik announced as he tried to push the sword through him. He grunted in an effort to move the sword, but it was held back. He tried again with a bit more effort and a louder grunt, but to no avail. He looked over to Juun, who was standing with an arm outstretched, using his magics to hold him and his sword in place.
Natilya strode confidently toward Kutrik while saying, “So you thought to kill my lover and the father of my child, did you?”
Kutrik stated loudly, “You stupid girl! He’s not in love with you and you are not in love with him. He’s just using you to further his own demented goals.”
“Are you referring to the spell he had Dulica cast on me?” Natilya said over a disdainful laugh. “It must be you who is stupid, old man. Don’t you realize that Dulica is an inept, incompetent peasant? His spell never really worked as he planned. You see, from the first moment I set eyes on him, I was in love with Satreka with all my heart.” She eased up in front of the clan leader, caressed his cheek with her fingers and continued, “And now you stand over my love with a large blade intending to take him from me. What am I to make of that?”
Kutrik grunted as he tried to move, but Juun’s talents were unmatched as he held the large man in place with what seemed so little effort. His eyes hinted at desperation as he explained, “Your presence here is a dire threat to our clan. The Valtyr will most certainly demand your return.”
“Well, they can’t have me,” Natilya flightily responded with a smile as she spun around and looked at Satreka. “I have already sent word that I have renounced my birthright. I have a new life here in this place and it is the life I choose for myself.” She turned back to him and posed, “But you are a threat to that life, aren’t you?”
Kutrik remained silent, his fear a faint light in his eyes.
Natilya answered the question for him, “Yes, you know you are. So, what to do with you?” She touched his face with her soft fingers and ran them along his furry cheeks slowly down to his neck. “You know that the Valtyr are extremely passionate. We would never let anyone get in the way of our love.”
She pushed out her claws on her left hand and pressed them against the side of his neck, then she tipped her head slightly to the right and firmly concluded, “And you are in my way.” She drove her claws into the arteries that led to his brain. The blood spewed out onto her hand and arm and flowed down onto her white dress.
Resali saw the blood and screamed, “No!” He took a few steps toward Natilya with his sword at the ready and suddenly found a knife in his chest. Satreka’s number one had acted in defense, delivering a throwing knife into his heart.
“Zakrell….” was his last word as he collapsed face down on the floor.
Gushol lifted his sword with the intent to attack.
Zakrell pointed at him and said, “Ah,ah, careful Gushol. You could go the way of Resali.”
Gushol backed down as Kutrik began to have difficulty breathing. Natilya had punctured his windpipe. It was not long before Kutrik had bled to death. Juun released him and he collapsed to the floor in a lump, his sword crashing loudly onto the stone floor.
Zakrell announced, “Kutrik is dead. All you who supported him must now pledge your allegiance to Satreka or face a similar fate.” He waited a moment, and when no response was forthcoming, he demanded, “Well?!”
Those loyal to Kutrik looked at each other in a contemplative moment, and then sheathed their swords as a sign of capitulation. For now.
Natilya knelt next to Satreka and looked at his wound. The blood was pulsing out from it, creating a small pool on the stone floor. “It doesn’t look like it damaged an artery, but it is very deep. Zakrell, can we get him to my chamber.”
“Of course, my lady.” He pointed to two of the loyal soldiers who knew without instruction what was expected of them. They lifted Satreka up and put his arms over their shoulders, then carried him out of the room. Juun followed closely, just in case his talents were needed.
Zakrell watched them through the main doorway and then turned to Gushol, “Take some men and prepare the funeral pyres for Kutrik and Resali. We will be out in about an hour.”
Gushol had a sullen look about him as he stood over his former leader’s body, the blood slowly seeping across the floor toward his boots.
Zakrell continued, “I understand your consternation, my friend. But have faith. Satreka has a vision for our people that will bring us great success and prosperity. If you give him a chance to prove his worth, I believe you will be pleased with where he takes us.”
“I hope you are right,” he responded with diminished confidence.
The two soldiers performed efficiently and with great determination, quickly carrying their wounded leader up the stairs and down the long hallway. They placed him on her bed, propped up by some pillows. Satreka was in a great deal of pain.
“I need something to sew up the wound,” Natilya stated. “Does anyone have any herbs to assist in healing?”
One of the young soldiers spoke up, “I have a concoction my mother prepared in case I was wounded.”
“Bring it here,” she commanded.
He came over with a small leather purse and handed it to her.
She opened it, smelled the contents and noted, “Excellent.”
He opened a small pouch that was attached to his belt and pulled out a metal needle with cat gut already attached, “This should serve to seal the wound.”
She took hold of it and smiled at him, “Your mother was watching out for you.”
“Aye, my lady, she still is,” he stated with a smile.
The Valtyr said, “Please express our gratitude to her. We will make sure that your supplies are replenished.”
“Thank you,” he said as he backed away and reclaimed his place near the door as Zakrell entered.
“My love, I must sew up the wound. This will be very painful.”
Juun interjected, “Please allow me to assist.” He reached his hand under Satreka’s left hip and a faint golden glow could be seen.
Satreka’s eyes showed his surprise as he stated, “I’ve lost all feeling in my leg.”
Juun explained, “It is only temporary, but it should give you some comfort.”
Natilya lost no time in sewing up the wound, displaying a talent she had nurtured for many years. She placed the herbal mixture on it and wrapped it tightly with some cloth she had ripped from the bed sheets. “My lord, please try not to move. It will take a few days for our efforts here to take hold and it will probably be painful for several days.”
Satreka looked over at the soldiers standing in the room. “Zakrell, Juun, please stay. Could the rest of you give us some privacy, please?”
The soldiers bowed and left the room. The young warlord and the sorcerer came closer.
Satreka shifted a bit in the bed. “Zakrell, I need you to be most vigilant. There will be those who might see these events as an opportunity to take control for themselves, so we must act quickly to consolidate our leadership position.”
“I understand
,” Zakrell responded.
“If I may be sold bold?” Natilya interjected.
“Please, my love, speak your mind.”
“I suggest that you hold court in the great hall to explain your vision for our people. Once they understand the important work being done on their behalf, they most certainly would support you.”
Zakrell noted the smile that came across the face of his friend and stated, “We could place several loyal soldiers on the perimeter of the room to provide protection, while, at the same time, demonstrating the depth of support for you. An action such as my lady suggests would also demonstrate your courage and determination to lead.”
Juun offered, “We could provide a bit of unseen security just in case it is needed.”
“Forthright and direct,” Satreka said with eagerness. “It is a good plan. We should proceed immediately. Zakrell, see to the arrangements. I want this to happen tonight before any thoughts of grandeur have a chance to conjure. Before we convene court, however, we should see to the funeral pyre for Kutrik. I want it to be reverent and solemn. He was a great leader and we must honor his achievements and his courage. We may have disagreed with him, but he still deserves our respect and gratitude for all he has done for our people.”
“I have already instructed Gushol to prepare for the funeral. But your injury…?” Zakrell was concerned.
“I will be all right,” Satreka said determinedly. “This is our moment, my friend. We must grab on with both hands.”
“Very good.”
Satreka looked over at the sorcerer and asked, “Juun, what were you thinking bringing Natilya into that hornet’s nest?”
“She commanded that I help her to see you through your most trying moment. What was I to do? I have not the strength to stand in the way of her demands.”
Satreka laughed at his sarcasm and took Natilya’s hand. “I believe she has that effect on everyone. You and your men wear hoods so your faces are always covered. I want to look you in the eyes and thank you.”
Juun hesitated momentarily, then pulled back the hood of his robe with both hands and let if fall onto his back, revealing his chiseled masculine lines and dark black eyes. For a man in his mid-thirties, his skin was incredibly smooth and unusually light. The warmth of the sun must have never touched him. His long blond curly hair polished off his attractiveness.
“Better,” Satreka commented. “Thank you so much for your help. And most importantly, thank you for protecting my Natilya.”
“I am your lord’s servant,” Juun said as he bowed.
“Gentlemen, may we have some privacy, please?”
Zakrell stated, “I will gather the clan as requested. The funeral rites should be held within the hour.”
“Thank you, my friend. You have earned a place at my side for all time.”
Juun pulled his hood back over his head. Both he and Zakrell bowed and left the room, closing the door behind them.
Satreka asked with a hint of disbelief, “What you said to Kutrik, is it true?”
“Yes, my love.” She leaned over and kissed him on the lips.
He carefully shifted himself over in the bed so she could sit next to him. “So you truly have renounced your birthright?”
“I am happier here than I have ever been in my life. You bring joy to my spirit.”
Satreka could not hide his surprise, “It just seems so surreal. Having you with me feels like a dream that I never wish to awaken from.”
Natilya laughed. “But it is real. Soon our child will be with us. The three of us, we will do great things together.”
Satreka said, “If I were to die tomorrow, all would be well knowing that you were with me, even if just for this moment.”
A short time later, Natilya had cleaned herself of Kutrik’s blood and had changed into a dark blue dress with embroidered silver accents, which was one Satreka most favored because it drew out her eyes. A young soldier had helped Satreka by lashing a piece of wood to the outside of his leg in an effort to immobilize the wound. It was fashioned cleverly so that it was concealed under his pant leg. She finished running a comb through her hair when a knock came from the door.
“My lord and lady, the clan has gathered,” Zakrell announced from the outside.
“Come, my friend.”
The big man entered followed by a loyal soldier who carried the fine cloak previously worn by Kutrik. “We believe that this properly belongs to you now,” Zakrell stated as the young soldier laid it out on the bed.
“Thank you, Zakrell,” Satreka said as he caressed it with his fingertips and noted, “It is quite beautiful, is it not?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Satreka took a deep breath and stated, “On this night, it is most important to solidify our hold on power. Wearing this might be perceived as antagonistic. I shall wear my normal clothes.”
“Very good,” Zakrell agreed. “Juun has positioned himself strategically in case he is needed. How is your leg?”
“I’ll be fine.” Satreka paused and looked at his friend, “Did I just steal your favorite phrase?”
Zakrell and Natilya laughed. The big man answered, “I think you did.”
“Actually, it feels quite good, all things considered. It’s still a bit numb from whatever Juun did earlier.” Satreka looked over at Natilya, “Are we ready for this?”
She smiled, “Of course, my love. Your greatness will light our way.”
He took her hand and they walked out of the room with Zakrell and the young soldier closely behind. Satreka had a noticeable limp, but he was able to walk reasonably well. He had a bit of difficulty with the stairs down to the main level of the castle, but then he strode confidently along the hallway and out into the courtyard.
Zakrell pointed toward the south drawbridge and directed, “This way.” He led the procession across the moat where two pyres had been constructed, Kutrik on the taller one and Resali on one a foot shorter. A layer of those loyal to Satreka had been arranged within the gathered throng to protect their leader and display support. Satreka and Natilya stood reverently in front of Kutrik as Zakrell took an unlighted torch from Gushol, who stood at the ready to light the fire for Resali.
Satreka winced in pain as he carefully climbed up a few steps on the wood structure to get one last look at Kutrik’s face. Despite their disagreements, Kutrik had been his mentor for nearly ten years. They had developed a bond not unlike close brothers and he relied on the older man’s counsel to mold his maturity and internal strength. He took off a silver pendant that Kutrik had given him years ago and tucked it in the dead man’s grip. He remained for a few quiet moments with his hand resting on Kutrik’s chest and then he whispered, “My friend, I truly wish we had not come to this moment in this way. Much of whom I am today I owe to you. I will miss you. May your lives ahead be full of adventure. Be happy and content in all you do.”
The young warlord was careful where he placed his feet as he stepped down off the wooden structure. Zakrell lit the torch from a small fire that burned near him and handed it to his friend. Satreka pushed it into the lower reaches of the pyre in several places to ensure that the fire burned evenly. Gushol did the same with the fire for Resali. They all stood back in quiet reverence as the flames quickly worked their way up through the wood and slowly consumed the bodies. Satreka stared up at the smoke soaring high into the sky. A lone tear slowly crept down his cheek. Natilya noticed, firmed her grip on his hand and looked over to him, intending comfort for his sadness. They watched for several minutes, until the wooden structures began to collapse.
Satreka moved next to Zakrell and whispered, “Natilya and I are going back into the castle. Have the leadership gather for court in the great hall in one hour. Use your judgment on the security arrangements.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Satreka took her hand and they walked back across the drawbridge into the castle courtyard. He stopped as they were about to go into the main entrance with something obviously hanging on hi
s mind.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Did I mention how beautiful you look this evening?” Satreka asked lovingly.
Her eyes smiled with surprise, “No, you did not.”
“Then I am a fool. In not taking every opportunity granted to me to express my appreciation for you, I let the most important aspects of life pass into the void.”
“But, you had so much on your mind….”
He smiled as he interrupted her, “That is no excuse for my failure.” He pushed a few stray hairs back over her ears and continued, “You are the most important person in my life. No one has ever meant so much to me, so the depth of what we have together is still a bit strange for me. I will make a more concerted effort to express my appreciation for you and for our family, and I ask you to admonish me firmly if I ever fail you in this way again.”
She laughed a little and replied, “As you wish, my love.”
He kissed her passionately and then wrapped his arms firmly around her, holding on for a long time. At one moment, he could feel her claws gently touch his back as she reciprocated.
At the appointed time, Satreka and Natilya approached the main entrance to the great hall. He stopped at the threshold momentarily, observing a contingent of loyal soldiers lining a path to the far end of the room near the left wall. ‘A good security precaution,’ he thought to himself.
And security was a paramount concern. Before him were two dozen of the most powerful leaders of the Scecian clan, each supported by more than a handful of their best soldiers. He sensed that the room was divided more-or-less equally between those who would support him unconditionally, those who would oppose him without hesitation, and those who were neutral, but could be swayed to his benefit if they felt his cause was just and achievable. His presentation needed to be direct and forceful, with a hint of humility. Apprehension caused his stomach to flutter just a bit, so he took her hand in an effort to bring calm to his spirit.
Into the Fray: Volume 1 of The Sorcerers of Jhanvia Series Page 16