The First Compact: The Karus Saga (The Karus Saga: Book Book 3)

by Marc Alan Edelheit

  “Guess I’ll soon be learning a new language,” Pammon said, “this common tongue.”

  “You’ll need to if you want to communicate with our allies,” Karus said. “Pammon, make no mistake … you will need it.”

  “To communicate with the elves and the dwarves?” Pammon asked.

  “Yes. The sooner you learn it the better.”

  “Yes, sir,” Pammon said and turned his gaze back to the enemy. “Why’d they turn on the Adile? Did the prisoners say?”

  “It seems,” Karus said, “the Adile refused to go back on their word and betray us.”

  “Well,” Pammon said, “that’s something, I guess.”

  “Yep,” Karus said. “They were pretty much left alone … that is, until they found a stock of food.”

  “Any idea on how many women and children are in there?” Pammon asked.

  “A little over two thousand noncombatants,” Karus said. “And it seems they’re short on food. They’ve begun to go hungry.”

  “Stupid bastards.” Pammon spat on the stone paving. “They should never have crossed us. Had they honored their word, they’d all have full bellies. I hate it when children suffer. I really do.”

  “I can’t disagree with that,” Karus said. “Barbarians never seem to miss an opportunity to miss an opportunity.”

  “Seems that way, sir.” Pammon sounded thoroughly disgusted. “They just don’t think like the civilized.”

  There was a clatter behind them. Karus turned to see Amarra making her way through the ranks of men. Behind her trailed a somber-looking Si’Cara. Amarra carried her spear, point upright. She was using it more as a walking staff than anything else. She joined them and gripped his arm briefly in welcome.

  “You didn’t need to come all the way down here,” Karus said to her.

  “True,” Amarra said, “but I wanted to be here for this, as well as be with you.”

  “It could get unpleasant,” Karus cautioned.

  “You need to stop trying to shield me,” Amarra said, sounding slightly irritated. Her gaze bored into his. “Just as you have, I’ve seen the ugly side of the world. I will no longer look away. To do so would be wrong. The only way to improve things and do some good is to take it in with both eyes open … to see things as they really are. Besides, I felt the need to be here.”

  “The High Father?” Karus asked. “He wanted you to be here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sir,” Pammon said and gestured toward their front. “Something’s happening.”

  Looking around, Karus saw there was movement amongst the enemy. Three men had appeared along the center of the wall. Karus recognized Logex and Ord. He felt an intense wave of dislike wash over him at the sight of them.

  The third man, Karus did not know. He carried himself with a natural confidence that spoke of being accustomed to authority. Karus’s hand came to rest on the sword hilt again. He found himself intensely disliking this man as well, though he could not find any rational reason for his strong feelings.

  “Who is that man there, on the right?” Karus asked Pammon. “Do you know him?”

  “That’s Garvin,” Pammon said. “A real mean bastard. I don’t remember his people’s name, but he was part of the group we took in after you left. Along with Logex, he was directly involved in the killing of Dio and the fighting that followed.”

  “You asked to speak with us,” Logex called to Karus in an arrogant tone. “Let’s get this over with. What do you Romans want?”

  Karus felt a stab of annoyance. He badly wanted to end Logex.

  Pammon looked over at Karus. “What did he say?”

  Amarra translated.

  “Cheeky bugger,” Pammon said, when she finished. “He knows why we’re here. Karus, we need to teach them a lesson they won’t soon forget.”

  “Agreed.” Karus turned to Amarra. “Would you continue to translate for Pammon? I would have him follow what goes on.”

  “I will,” Amarra said.

  “Don’t keep us waiting all day,” Logex said, sounding exasperated.

  Karus took a step forward.

  “Careful, sir,” Pammon cautioned. “It’s a long toss, but some of them boys over there might be able to use a javelin.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Karus stopped, going no closer. He turned back to face Logex.

  “Ah, the great leader has returned,” Logex said, pretending he had not seen Karus. The man rested his hands on the lip of the barricade. “We all thought you’d run out on your people. And I see you’ve brought your little witch too. How sweet. From the looks of her, she’s good in all the areas that count. I guess that’s what matters, especially when the suns set, eh?”

  The three laughed nastily amongst themselves. Even a few men on the wall joined in. Though Karus thought most appeared nervous. With the might of First Cohort on display, an overstrength cohort, nearly seven hundred men, they had a right to be.

  “Watch your tongue, cur,” Si’Cara snapped. “You are speaking of the High Priestess.”

  “I thought you said she was a witch,” Garvin asked and looked over at Logex. The mirth and amusement had gone from the man.

  “She is.” Logex gestured toward the Romans. “That’s what their own people called her. She is but one more pretender, another charlatan peddling a false religion.”

  Garvin turned back to look on Amarra, his gaze piercing, almost unnaturally so. He did not appear convinced by Logex’s argument. In fact, Karus thought he appeared seriously concerned.

  “What god?” Garvin asked her. “What god do you serve?”

  Karus thought the man’s sudden interest odd. What did it matter?

  “The High Father,” Amarra said, a cold, hostile note in her tone. Surprised, Karus glanced back. Amarra’s entire attention was focused on Garvin.

  “What is it?” Karus asked, for he sensed something was not quite right. He took a step nearer. “Tell me.”

  “That man,” Amarra said, lowering her voice, “the one named Garvin …”

  “Did I hurt the witch’s feelings?” Logex asked. His men along the wall laughed at that, enthusiastically. “If you send her over, Karus, I am sure we can comfort her in ways you simply can’t.”

  “What of him?” Karus ignored Logex.

  “He is not what he seems,” Amarra said.

  “What does that mean?” Karus asked, feeling himself frown.

  “When I look at him,” Amarra said, “I feel a coldness. Perhaps the right word is not cold … but wrong. Yes, that is a better word. I feel wrong and it upsets my stomach, like I’ve eaten meat that’s gone bad. There is something dark about him, evil. I think he is a priest of some kind … or something else … Whatever he is, he’s not one friendly to the High Father.”

  “A dark priest or holy warrior,” Si’Cara hissed. The elf had an arrow loosely nocked in her bow. Eyes narrowing, she slowly turned her gaze to Garvin. “He could be very dangerous, if he has will and the ability to use it.”

  Karus was suddenly reminded of the Elantric Warden and her occult power. He went cold at the thought of facing such power again.

  “Can you hit him from this distance?” Karus quietly asked Si’Cara.

  “Easily,” Si’Cara said. “Do you want him dead now?”

  “Not yet,” Karus said. “They need to hear my terms. Once I have laid them out, his life is forfeit.”

  “If he so much as twitches before you finish,” Si’Cara said, “I will take him down. When you are ready for me to kill him, just say so.”

  Satisfied, Karus turned back around. He eyed Garvin for a long moment. The man was dressed in a stained and dirty light-brown tunic. He carried a longsword belted and sheathed at his side. That he was potentially a dangerous enemy capable of an unknown power was more than concerning. There was nothing really to mark him as different from the others. That worried Karus.

  “Are you going to bore me to death?” Logex asked in an impatient tone.

  Amarra con
tinued translating for Pammon.

  “No,” Karus replied. “I promise, I will keep this short.”

  “Oh good,” Logex said. “I can’t tell you how much a relief that is … I hate long speeches.”

  Karus had the sense the man was enjoying his moment on stage. Perhaps, he was even playing it up for the benefit of his men … a false bravado. That would soon change.

  “We’ve sealed you into your camp,” Karus said. “You know that. All avenues of escape have been cut off. You’re outnumbered, and badly too. There will be no negotiation. You will surrender … or … all of you will die.”

  There was silence from those on the wall. Then, Logex laughed. The laugh seemed louder than it should have been and somewhat forced. Karus noticed several of the men manning the barricade shift uncomfortably, looking to their leaders for reassurance. This time they did not join him.

  Saying nothing, Karus simply waited for the man to stop laughing.

  “You’ve already tried to force your way in,” Logex said, “and your people failed miserably.”

  “The legion was sick and understrength,” Karus said. “No more. We’ve recovered.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” Logex said. “I saw thousands fall sick. There’s no possible way you could have recovered so quickly.”

  Garvin leaned over and whispered something to Logex, while he gestured at Amarra. Logex stared for a long moment, then said something back. It seemed when he turned his attention back to Karus, the man had paled slightly.

  “It does not matter what you believe,” Karus said, before Logex could speak. “I’ve brought the entire legion to this party.” Karus gave a shrug of his shoulders. He turned and glanced back at the legionaries of First Cohort briefly. “But they’re not here to dig you out.”

  “Do you intend to impress us with the show, then?” Ord asked with a nasty chuckle. Logex did not join in the mirth. Neither did Garvin. Both had become grave. “You legionaries do seem to like to impress with all of your spit and polish.”

  “As I’ve said, we’ve sealed you in to keep you from escaping.” Karus paused and then raised his voice, addressing the men manning the wall, for they were the ones who really mattered. Several of the enemy on the nearest rooftops had also gathered along the edges and were watching. “Anyone who comes over the wall and surrenders will live,” Karus said. “You will be made slaves, even your women and children. But, in the end, you will have your lives. In time, you may even have the opportunity to buy or earn your freedom.”

  “You would make me a slave?” Ord was clearly incredulous. “I come from a long line of noble warriors. I would never willingly take the yoke. It would be a stain to my ancestors and honor. I would die first.”

  “The choice I am offering is not for you,” Karus said bluntly, “but your people. They can either choose life or … death.”

  “We’d rather die than live in bondage,” Logex snapped back.

  “You don’t get a say,” Karus said. “I’m not here to negotiate. I am simply stating my terms. You, Garvin, and Ord do not get the chance to become slaves. If you surrender, you will be put to death. Resist … it does not matter. You three will die this day. I will personally see to that.” Karus pointed skyward, toward the clouds. Everyone along the wall looked up. High above, Kordem, great wings outstretched, was flying in a lazy spiral. “I will give you an hour to make up your minds. When the hour is up, the dragon will burn you out … all of you. None of my men will be put at risk, but in the end, you will die if you decline my offer of servitude and life.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Garvin said. “You people follow the teachings of the High Father. He would never condone your actions.”

  “The High Father,” Amarra said, in the same cold tone, “gives all free will. You chose poorly. As such, your people must pay the price for betrayal.”

  This was followed by silence.

  “Had we not a great need for labor,” Karus said, “I would simply kill you all. But now … you get to choose … so choose wisely.”

  “You’re not serious,” Logex said, in a horrified tone. The man’s voice trembled slightly.

  “You’re a bastard,” Garvin hissed.

  “That’s true. I can be a real bastard, especially when crossed.” Karus hardened his voice. “We are of Rome and when betrayed we do not forgive … but seek vengeance.” Karus paused, his gaze locking with Garvin’s. “Si’Cara, now, if you would.”

  The arrow was away before Karus could even blink. It flew true, striking Garvin directly through the throat with a sickening sound. Both Logex and Ord looked on in stunned horror. Garvin gazed down in shock at the missile that seemingly had sprouted from his throat. He opened his mouth to scream. Instead, a shocking amount of blood fountained out, pouring down his chest. A heartbeat later, he toppled forward, over the barricade, landing heavily on the paving stones. Garvin twitched, then lay still, while his lifeblood pooled around his body on the street, running like tiny rivers through the spaces between the paving stones.

  There was a moment where no one moved. Then common sense and self-preservation took over. Logex and Ord hastily ducked down behind the barricade, along with all the men manning it.

  “Good shot,” Karus said to Si’Cara, satisfied that the unknown threat the man had represented had been neutralized. He would have liked Garvin to suffer a bit more, but it had been an excellent demonstration for the other two leaders and their followers. Karus’s message had been reinforced. Resist and die. He was sure Garvin’s death would also be a blow to the morale of his people.

  “Thank you,” Si’Cara said as she slowly nocked another arrow, while holding her bow loosely and keeping her gaze on the enemy’s defensive wall.

  “I’d say the parley is over.” Pammon clapped his hands together. He eyed Si’Cara for a long moment. “She’s a damn fine shot.”

  “You have one hour!” Karus shouted. “Surrender or die. The choice is yours.”

  A man on the barricade suddenly stood and raised his javelin to throw at Karus. Si’Cara’s bow was up. It once again twanged. Barely a blink of an eye later, the arrow hammered into the man’s chest. He gave a clipped cry and fell back and out of sight, landing with a clatter on the other side of the wall.

  “One hour!” Karus shouted again and turned his back, moving away from the barricade and toward the men of First Cohort. As he did, the men of his old cohort gave an approving cheer.

  Pammon, Si’Cara, and Amarra followed. They made their way through the ranks and to the other side of the formation. There they found Ugin, along with the century Karus had assigned and the rest of the Anagradoom, including Kol’Cara.

  The Vass was completely healed of his injuries and looked to be in prime health. The guard detail, with so many watching one individual, suddenly seemed a ludicrous precaution. But then Karus noticed how the elves watched Ugin. It was kind of like how one might warily eye a dangerous animal that had wandered too close.

  Several shifted their bows and nocked arrows as Karus drew near. Then he remembered the scores of dead goblins on the hilltop. Ugin hulked over the elves and men of First Cohort, in an almost intimidating manner. The Vass seemed not concerned in the slightest. Perhaps, Karus thought, the massive guard detail wasn’t such an overreaction.

  “I like how you negotiate,” Ugin said to Karus, baring his teeth in what clearly was an amused grin. “If I did not know better, I’d think you might have some Vass blood running through your veins, human.”

  “What are you doing here?” Karus asked Ugin, deciding to get right to the point. It was too hot out to waste time, and Karus had played enough games for the day.

  “I heard there may be fighting.” Ugin looked over the heads of the formed-up legionaries of First Cohort, toward the barricade. He turned his gaze back to Karus. It was then Karus noted Ugin wore not only his armor, but his massive sword. The weapon was strapped to his back. “I came to help.”

  “You mean to fight with us?” Karus asked, di
sbelieving. “Really?”

  “Well,” Ugin said, “not at first. Then … I saw your elf take down the priest of Pattor. So … now I offer my services in the fight to come. Where there is a priest, there are followers. I would help you send them from this world to the next. You will let me help.”

  “Pattor?” Karus had never heard of such a god.

  “It is another name for Castor,” Kol’Cara said. “He is worshiped by orcs of this world, goblins, and some humans.”

  “Pattor, Castor,” Ugin said. “Different name, same master. All who follow such a god deserve death.”

  “How could you tell he was a priest?” Karus asked, curious, for he could not recall the man wearing any religious pendants or sporting markers.

  “My people have a natural affinity for such things,” Ugin said. “We can spot most priests right off and with some, especially our race enemies, tell which god they belong to. The Great Orttessa has given us this power, so we might carry out her will and purify the land of the unholy.”

  “Do you know if that’s true?” Karus asked Kol’Cara. “Can he truly tell such things?”

  “You doubt me?” Ugin demanded, seeming to grow inches as he took a step toward Karus and leaned forward. Bows coming up, several of the elves took an alarmed step toward the Vass. The men of the guard century drew their swords as Karus’s hand found his sword hilt.

  Kill him, the sword hissed in his mind. The Vass has will. Let me take it.

  Ugin noticed the reaction his move had caused. Grinning, he relaxed slightly, taking a step away from Karus. The elves lowered their bows. Feeling the threat had passed, Karus removed his hand from the magic sword. It was only then that he realized Ugin had been testing his guard’s reaction.

  Kol’Cara hesitated as he eyed the Vass, then answered Karus’s question. “I understand it to be one of their given abilities. Their people can sense servants of gods opposed to their own.”

  “I would not lie,” Ugin said, sounding scandalized.

  “No,” Si’Cara said, “you’d just mislead, like the rest of your people. Just as you did with the healing potion.”

  Ugin shrugged his shoulders at that, as if what she had said was no big deal. He looked over at Karus. “So, great leader of men, what now?”