by S E Turner
The group of women nodded their heads grimly.
'Thank you for warning us, Lyall,' said Myra sharply. They shared a grave look and she spoke with her contemporaries before divulging their own origin.
'We are Smilodon people,' she began. 'We are like you. We are clan. More than ten years ago, our small community was ravaged and depleted by the same General that you have mentioned. He was looking for the Seal of Kings.' She stood up and made her way towards him. 'The same search that took him to your castle in Durundal, it would seem.'
Lyall looked sickened but was equally mesmerised by the Matriarch before him. Her long white robe hung elegantly off her statuesque frame, and he could see her face bore the lines of age but was still incredibly beautiful. He was transfixed as she spoke.
'Only a few of us survived, and after we buried our dead, we set to work to build a fortress that would withstand any attack from any type of threat, so our people could live in safety again.'
'It is truly spectacular,' praised Lyall looking around in earnest. 'I applaud your determination and steadfastness.'
'Thank you.' She looked at every clan member in turn, as they too, hung on her every word and held her gaze. She reached out her hands to them. 'We meet today as friends and family, all of you. You rid us of the enemy that slaughtered our mothers, our fathers, and our children. We are indebted to all of you.'
Lyall swallowed hard, and his friends stood proud.
She continued. 'We have the same blood, we have the same dreams, and share the same ambitions. We want only to live in peace and harmony with our fellow human beings.'
'I agree,' said Lyall, with a following echo from his group.
She addressed only him now. 'Your brother has not been here, and unfortunately, I agree with you. The new Emperor is not to be trusted. But if your brother should end up here, then he will be welcomed and looked after until we get word to you at Castle Dru in Durundal. I can promise you that, Lyall.'
'Thank you,' he quivered with an emotional stance.
'But for now, you are my honoured guests for the evening. Rooms will be made up for all of you where you can bathe and get changed, and then I invite you to join us for a celebratory supper. I want you to meet with the people who run our community. There are many of us that keep this fortress safe and answer all needs. It is a working progress that I want to share with you. We will work together to fuel the rewards of peace and celebrate the honour of friendship.'
'Hear, hear!' came the collective response. The elder stateswomen stood up on the raised dais. They saluted with fists on their hearts and spoke passionately with their souls. 'To peace, to prosperity, to pride.'
Lyall's accommodation was particularly splendid and the fragrance of aromatic petals and essential oils wafted round the room. A deep tub with ornate taps in the shape of a sabre toothed tiger bubbled in the corner as it was being filled. He looked out of the window, and from his high elevation, stretching out before him, lay the magnificent Smilodon fort.
The moonlit glow from a bright full moon had turned the white buildings a sheen of silver, and the jewelled spire of the Grand Committee Room shone like a beacon reaching up to the sky. In the square below, hunched figures rushed about their business; lovers found a quiet corner to embrace, and the porter was sweeping up the dusty walkways. He watched for a while before moving into the comfortable warmth of his spacious room. It was sparse in the way of furniture, but the wood panelled walls intrigued him with more golden inlays of the Smilodon amid a range of stucco carvings of wild beasts and mythical figures. He went to a table and found a simple goblet next to a decanter of wine. He poured himself a glass, sat back in the deep winged chair, and savoured the taste of the smoothest, sweetest claret he had ever tasted.
'Your bath is ready, King Lyall,' came a trill sound from the other side of the room.
'Thank you,' he called out to the chambermaid. Finishing off his wine, he placed the goblet back on the small round side table and made his way to the tub. He pulled the decorative screen between him and the rest of the apartment, discarded his clothes, and sank down into the well of the bath. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the roll of the lip. Mixed furious thoughts filled his worried mind.
He took in deep breaths and tried to relax, but the thought of his brother coiled up somewhere in excruciating pain furrowed his brow and he found himself grinding his teeth. He lowered himself right under the water and let the warmth spill over his face. He massaged his scalp and blended the oils through to the ends of his hair. 'This feels so good,' he thought to himself and then sat up again. 'I'm sorry, Namir. I feel like I am betraying you somehow. You are living in hell and I am here in these palatial surroundings. But I know you are somewhere, brother. I know you are alive, and I know this is not the end. I will have you safely back home soon.' He lowered himself under the water again and let the warmth spread over his entire body.
Fearing he would fall asleep in the glorious comfort, he stepped out of the bath and into a robe that the maid had left him. He poured another goblet of wine and sipped it slowly as he looked beyond the window again.
'Would you like some help dressing, my lord?' asked the maid.
'No, no, I will be fine,' he chuckled quietly before turning round to acknowledge her. The last person to dress him was his mother, and he found it amusing. Though his amusement was benevolent rather than mocking, and he didn't want to offend the girl.
The maid was small with short, black bobbed hair. She only looked about fourteen years old, wearing a long pale blue dress with a white pinafore apron, and moving about her errands on brown leather, lace-up boots. She busied herself arranging his evening attire.
'I have left a gown on your bed, my lord. If it pleases you, I will take your clothes and have them cleaned by the morning.'
'Thank you. That would please me greatly.' He raised his glass as a sign of his appreciation. Smiling courteously and dipping down into a curtsey, she then went to the bath and emptied out the water. He heard it disappear down a pipe and into a reservoir under the streets of the fort.
'Amazing,' he thought to himself, listening to the last drops draining away. 'Castle Dru shall have this when I return.' He went to his bed and put on the white silk tunic top over grey flannel trousers, then slipped into the black velvet slippers that were left beside them. His hair, still wet from his bath, clung in dark strands to his scalp. He tousled it into place with his fingers and sat in the chair again: thinking, contemplating and sipping on wine.
A gong sounded an hour later which brought him abruptly out of his doze. He went outside to greet his friends, all wearing the same ensemble. He was quick to notice Lace in her long shirt and loose flannelette trousers. 'Wouldn't you have preferred a glamorous robe?' He asked with a wide grin.
'Not at all. These are more than adequate and extremely comfortable,' she stroked the soft material and performed a twirl with ease.
'The maid offered her a robe,' said Torré. 'But my good lady wife said she would be fine with what she had been given.'
'I suspect the maids weren't expecting a woman in our party,' suggested Lace.
'Very true,' said Lyall. 'But with their Matriarch and her Deputies preceding over events, I am glad we have you here to represent the women of our clans.' Lyall took her hand graciously to seal an honoured kiss.
'Well, thank you, kind sir,' she smiled and curtseyed before him.
'I think we all look fine specimens,' said Dainn, glowing from head to toe.
'I agree,' said Silva. 'I have never felt so clean.'
'Or smelt so good,' said Hali.
'The girl trimmed my beard,' said Siri, smoothing a finely razored stubble.
'And mine,' said Hass, sharing the same experience .
'There is lot we can take away from this experience,' proclaimed Lyall, enthusiastically. 'I shall endeavour to incorporate as much as I can into our own Castle Dru. But now, my friends, let us go and meet our hosts and enjoy the rest of our
stay.'
They collectively took their seats in the Great Hall amongst others wearing the same silk tunics with grey flannel trousers and those higher up who wore white robes with gold sashes. Here, they spoke with honoured guests and friendly acquaintances who all had a story to tell.
The chatter died down as the huge doors opened, and dozens of young people entered carrying platters and other containers of every imaginable sort of food.
At the head of the procession walked the Matriarch, looking even more beautiful and radiant than when they had seen her earlier. Her braided silver hair was piled up high on her head, and she wore the purest, whitest silk dress that moved elegantly with her and hung on her tall, slender frame like a second skin. She took her place at the head of the table flanked by her deputies and she remained standing to address the assembly. When everyone was quiet she made her announcement. 'Honoured guests, ladies and gentlemen, it is my very great pleasure to introduce the young people that sit amongst us.' She gestured towards Lyall and his party. 'These are my friends, they are your friends, also. I invited them here today after I heard their story. These are brave people from the same blood as us, and I have welcomed them into our home.'
Fearing they had all suffered the same fate, a sympathetic wave rumbled round the assembly room.
The Matriarch held up her hand for order.
'But these young people have done more for us than you perhaps are aware of.' She looked around the room at the rows of elders. All of them concealed the trauma of watching their own people being burnt to death or hacked to pieces by the General and his legions. Each one of them now hanging on her every word and eager to know what these courageous people had accomplished. And she delivered what they wanted to hear. In a strong, passionate voice she raised the roof. 'For they have defeated the General Domitrius Corbulo, they have killed The Emperor Gnaeus of Ataxata, and they have put to death the countless soldiers and adversaries that assisted them in burning down our land and massacring our people a decade ago.'
A wave of shocked surprise rumbled through the tables, and gasps of delight echoed round the room. Faces worn with a lifetime of unending horrific visions were now replaced with the guise of retribution. A roar of appreciation went through the rafters: they stamped their feet, they clapped their hands, they rattled their goblets, and tears flowed in as much abundance as the wine. She had to wait a while for calm to be restored again.
'Please, raise your glasses to Lyall, Hass, Hali, Silva, Siri. Dainn, Torré, and the undeniably exquisite Lace. Because now, with the undisputed heroism of these young people, at last, vengeance is ours!' The whole assembly rose together and lifted their tankards, goblets, glasses and vials. Anything to raise a toast in. They stamped their feet again, cutlery was rattled, the table was pummeled, and the rafters nearly came off the joists as they proclaimed: 'Vengeance is ours.'
'And one last request, my lords and ladies and honoured guests,' her voice rose loud over the celebrations. 'To Namir, who is lost at this time, but I, and all my people, will pray for his safe return.'
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Two weeks had gone by, and it was now well into November. They had travelled west from the palace and been to the clans of the Giant's Claw and the Hill Fort Tribe, but to no avail, Namir was not there. No one had seen him.
Siri and Dainn stayed with their respective clans and assured everyone they would keep a vigilant look out. The only clan the party hadn't been to was the Marshland Tribe, but as that was so much further north, and Namir would have needed to pass the other two first, it wasn't on Lyall's list of high importance. But Torré and Lace knew what to do, so they bid their farewells and made their way back home ahead of the bad weather coming in from the north. The rest of the party ventured east, across the waste land of the kingdoms, and into mountain lion territory.
By now, Lyall had decided what to do. He needed to move the Clan of the Mountain Lion.
Skyrah was with her mother and Meric at the castle. All Lyall had to do was to get everyone else to move out, and that was going to be the hardest part. The remaining followers sat on the edge of the forest and discussed their options.
'I have to build a fortress like Smilodon to take everyone.' Lyall was thinking out loud.
'Everyone?' asked Silva, quite overwhelmed at the mammoth revelation.
'It can be done,' Lyall said with the courage of his convictions. 'You saw Smilodon. You saw how it accommodated all those citizens. I am tired of our people living on dreams and schemes, running away, always fearful—never safe.'
'What do you propose to do?' asked Hali.
'I am going to build another Smilodon Fort with a school and a place of worship. I am going to spread the fields to have more livestock and yield more grain. There will be additional outbuildings for animals, extra barns. and storerooms for produce. If they can do it, we can do it. We must do it.'
'But what about the clan members who don't want that, the ones who chose to stay here because they don't like change,' Silva put the realistic perspective on Lyall's vision.
'Did you see the Smilodon people? Was there anyone there who looked unhappy? No, because they felt safe. Namir can't guarantee safety here. It's too open, and it's too vulnerable. We live in changing times where people kill and steal or any other number of dastardly means to take what is not theirs,' Lyall shook his head. 'We have to be more protected. No one can guarantee absolute safety, but Smilodon has done a darn good job… and I want to do the same.'
'I still say that people won't like it,' said Silva, accepting Lyall's reasons but stating the awful truth.
'You are right,' said Lyall. 'People don't like change and given a choice, they will always stay with what they know and what they are familiar with. But our people don't have a choice now, and I am not going to let anyone die.'
'We could take a chance and leave them,' suggested Hass. 'You will have to knock parents out to get them through the tunnel, and there ain't no way they goin' over any mountain.'
'I am not prepared to take that chance, Hass,' raged Lyall stoically. 'Castle Dru and all its land is equal to Smilodon. We can do it. Those people did it. Come on, think of your children's future. Think of your future.'
'You are right,' said Silva. He had been listening to all the points raised and was considering all of them carefully before he came to his conclusion. 'If we want peace and prosperity, then everyone has to be moved. Whether the Emperor lives or dies, there will always be someone out there depraved enough to take what is not theirs. I say we do it, Lyall. The Clan of the Mountain Lion has been attacked too many times now, and with two leaders up at the castle, only the foolish would try to challenge you.'
'Thank you, Silva, and I appreciate you coming forward with your support.'
'We need to do this as quickly as possible, then. The weather will be turning soon,' said Hali firmly. 'I think we should make haste.'
'Agreed,' Lyall was relieved. 'So, my strategy is this. I will talk to the clan and convince them that this is in their best interests. Then, Silva, I would like you to stay here with me and help me get the clan packed up. Make sure they don't take too much in the way of provisions. It will make for easier transporting that way. Hali and Hass, could you go through the tunnel and explain to everyone up there what is happening? Make sure you inform Skyrah first. She will be out of her mind by now. Silva, I want you to start leading the animals over the mountain pass. You know where to put them when you reach the paddocks and fields, you have turned and fenced them, after all.' He smiled with a grace to his expression.
'What will you do with the camp when everyone has gone?' said Hass diligently.
'I will burn it to the ground. The winter is upon us and that will bring snow. Whatever is left in the form of embers will soon be covered over and all evidence of that civilisation will be gone.'
'What about the tunnel,' said Hali.
'I have thought about that, as well.'
'And...' they collectively said together. 'On
ce Namir is back safely with us, I'm going to blow it up.'
'What?'
'I know, it pains me to do it, but I have no choice. Namir will agree with me, I know he will. After what has happened here recently, I can't leave it open.'
Worn faces looked at each other with raised eyebrows, but who were they to argue with his reasoning? Instead, they kicked their horses into movement, and the party trooped into the Clan of the Mountain Lion amid a rapturous welcome.
All were jubilant to see the warriors return safely, but spirits quickly waned when they saw that Namir was not with them.
'I can see you are troubled, Lyall. Do you have news of Namir?' voiced Ronu beneath a furrowed brow.
'I'm sorry to say that I do not. I am deeply worried and need to speak to the clan as quickly as possible. Can you get everyone together for me?'
'Of course, I will. I shall do it at once, but is there anything I should know?'
'You will find out soon enough, dear friend, but please, make haste and get everyone together, for this is a very important decision I have had to make.'
Ronu looked at him for answers, but Lyall jutted out his chin in an attempt to speed things up.
The clan were summoned amid whispers of concern. Bustling bodies weaved their way to the meeting house, trying to make sense of it all. To be honest, most of the clan had gone anyway. It was only a handful of elderly people left there now. These were the members that were happy with what they were born into, who believed that their totems and spirit guides could protect them against anything, and that the menhirs were their walls of strength. But now, a far greater predator was out there: a predator that needed a stronger defence.
'Friends, colleagues, families, I come to you with urgent news.' He looked at all of them in turn, looking every inch the regal lord. His dress evoked an air of righteousness. 'I have been to the Palace of Ataxata in search of Namir,' he paused briefly. 'I could not find him.'