Chapter Nine
Man of Respect
I made it to the edge of the city when my conscience couldn’t take it anymore. Skewed reasoning aside, I was essentially stealing this horse. I wasn’t a horse thief. My real father no doubt had been, but I was not.
I dismounted in a deserted street and slapped the stallion’s rump hard. It took off with a snort for the inner-city, no doubt already missing its royal oats.
“So long Urgallon. It was a short ride.”
I turned away and made my way back out onto a populated avenue. One of the city gates was ahead and I instantly noticed the heightened security. I kept one handle on my sword beneath the cloak, as I slipped into the pressed throng of a passing caravan.
I kept my head up, as I relied on the stolen helmet to shield my features from view. Yes, it was quite ironic. Too noble to steal a horse, but apparel and weaponry were free game. What could I say, other than I wasn’t as bothered by the latter as I had been by the former. It didn’t make much sense, but that was the way of it.
“Has anyone seen the Prince’s horse?” called out a soldier on horseback near the gate.
I felt relief wash over me. It had been wise to listen to my conscience. It paid to do the right thing and this was a great example of that and I marked it well.
I was abreast of the gate when a voice rang out, “Hey you! What’s your business?”
Instinctively I knew they were referring to me and my hands started to pull my sword free from under the cloak, when all action was arrested by a feminine voice that spoke confidently and with authority, “Why, he’s one of my guards. Move on and pay no attention to these paranoid Thyanians.”
“Hey, watch what you say Lancossian Mistress or we’ll impound your goods and you can return home devoid of wealth!”
“Impound my wealth! What wealth is there to be found trading with you Thyanians? You talk more than you’re willing to trade and you have even less worth talking about. I practically operate at a loss as it is to even come here!”
“Enough! Get on with you!” The gate guardsman said, with an angry gesture towards the open country beyond the city wall.
The caravan continued on past the gate and I slowly turned my head to regard the woman riding the camel behind me. She was watching me cattily and I sensed trouble. Trouble or not, she had saved me a bunch of it, but what did she require in return?
Her eyes turned merry and it seemed as she spoke that she was able to read minds along with lying convincingly, “I always have need of an extra sword hand to ensure the safety of my caravan’s travel. Not to mention the joy I receive having pulled one over on a Thyanian. Tell me, what is it you did to bring the paranoid lot of them down upon you so hard?”
“I refused to honor a Prince's command.”
She whistled softly in a very unladylike fashion. She was an attractive woman, but easily 20 years my senior. She looked me over thoroughly as she drew abreast of me on her camel. “Safe passage in return for safety. Is it a deal?”
“Deal,” I said, having to give it little thought.
She smiled smugly and I immediately regretted the hastiness of agreeing to the assignment of being a caravan guard. My benefactor looked ahead and gestured to me as she said, “Bruton, see that the young man has a tent allotted to him when we camp.”
“Yes, my Mistress Siryian,” said a man of black skin color that would’ve easily made three of me.
The man was far from fat though. Quite simply, he was the strongest looking man I’d ever encountered. The camel he rode on was larger than the rest and for good reason.
Bruton gestured to me and then to the rear of the caravan and the meaning was clear. He wanted me to fall back to the rear of the column and join the rearguard.
Obediently I did as commanded. All along the way there I couldn’t help but think I had just signed by life away. If we were attacked I would most likely be the first to go, positioned at the rear of the caravan. Such was the price of freedom.
I reached the rear of the caravan and joined the ranks of the rearguard. It was readily apparent that I might find my death by way of choking on dust before the blade of an enemy.
“What did you do to get put back here?” asked one of my fellow guardsman disinterestedly, as he made a pass with the sleeve of his tunic to wipe the sweaty grime off his face.
“I’m not quite sure.”
“Well, you’re here now. Welcome to the south end of a camel. The name's Thanuel and this is Jarken.” Thanuel finished by gesturing to a short but powerfully built man, who was also sweating profusely from the heat of the day and the exertion of walking.
Jarken gave me a congenial enough word of welcome and I attempted to do the same, but found myself hacking on the dust. “Pleased to meet you,” I said hoarsely after a moment.
“The pleasure is all mine,” the man said formally and then both he and Thanuel laughed uproariously.
Thanuel asked after a moment, “Where’d you learn to talk all proper like that?”
I shrugged, “I guess some of the mannerisms of my teacher of the past few years have rubbed off on me.”
“And who would that be, young man?” Jarken asked.
“He was called Kurios, but I called him Kuri. I’m not aware of him having a last name.”
Jarken and Thanuel shared a meaningful glance with each other before Jarken said as an aside, “The first name's enough. If I was you I’d keep it to yourself as to who your teacher was.”
“Aye, I’d do as he says,” Thanuel said, glancing around to see if we’d been overheard by the other men around us.
“Why?” I asked, but both men would say no more.
I walked on in the dust pondering as to what their hints could mean. Kuri apparently had a reputation within the seven kingdoms. If they only knew. The problem was that they should know, yet it seemed that, if anything, Kuri was regarded by some as a nuisance instead of what he was, the King.
Thanuel was handing a rag to me and gesturing at my face. I took it and tied it across the lower half of my face. It helped with the dust, but not the heat. My new job was thoroughly miserable, but at least I wasn’t on the menu.
*****
The water wasn’t cold, but at least it had a cooling effect, if only for the moment. I stopped splashing my face with it and instead I rubbed at my eyes. They still felt gritty, but I had to have gotten all the sand and dust washed out of them by now.
Of all the occupations on Ayenathurim this had to be the worst. I put it just a step above slavery, but just barely.
A shadow fell across me and I looked up to see my benefactor standing there. Her eyes roamed over my bare torso staying the longest upon the scars that ran across my chest.
Her eyes rose to mine and I could see curiosity reflected within the depths of her green eyes. I saw lust as well. I felt the need to put my shirt on, but I stayed as I was.
“You look as if you have quite the story to tell,” she said softly, as her eyes fell back down to the scars.
I said nothing. Her eyes rose to mine, curiosity seemed to vanish from them as it was replaced with magnetic sensuality. Now I felt the need to run away, but I stayed still.
She shook her head slowly, “My, you are a shy one. I could help you with that. My tent is right over there.” She pointed to the largest tent that lay beneath the tree fronds of the oasis.
“If you should choose to drop by, perhaps you can tell me how you came about those scars,” she said and then turned away and moved off toward her tent.
I swallowed with the relief of not having her green eyes on me. It was hard to look away from her retreating form, but I made myself do it. She was older, but still extremely desirable.
Desirable or not, I felt nothing but distrust for her. She struck me as the type that used others for her own purposes and desires, in order to fulfill her need for control.
I knew all that and more about this strange woman and yet some part of me ached to even now be lifting the flap of her tent and joining her inside. It made no sense!
She was nothing but a path to destruction. What was wrong with me; that any part of me still longed for what she offered?
I had to be better than my weakest parts though and looking upward I said, “El Elyon, I’m sorry. I know better and yet you know how close I am to going over there. Please help me.”
I put my shirt on before I weakened any further and then I hurried out of the trees and into the surrounding desert, upon which the shadows of night had already begun to fall.
*****
Jarken looked over to Thanuel, who was lying back against a boulder. They had been silent witnesses to the whole scene.
Thanuel looked thoughtful as he watched Benaiah disappear into the dunes, “Rare man.”
Jarken nodded sharply and then asked, “You think he’s the one?”
Thanuel shook his head looking undecided, “Perhaps. Time will tell. Not such a boring trip after all, hey?”
Jarken looked thoughtfully out at the surrounding desert scape, upon which night was fast approaching and asked, “Do you think we should alert the caravan to the presence of bandits out there?”
Thanuel shook his head, “No, let Benaiah do it. We’ve had our glory in the sun. Time to help a rising star reach the zenith of his potential.”
Jarken nodded resolutely and said pragmatically, “He’s the one. I feel it.”
“I hope you’re right my friend. El Elyon knows we’re not getting any younger,” Thanuel said, still thoughtfully gazing after Benaiah.
*****
I stared out across the scene of sand and moonlight. Here in the borderlands of the Kingdomer Nation of Lancandia it was sand and sun. There was beauty to be found, but I preferred the sight of green grass and cool breezes. The nights were at least cool here. The cold air was a relief on my impassioned senses.
I looked up. The sky was bright and every star seemed to stand out in stark relief against the black backdrop of the sky. It was an awe-inspiring moment of quiet reflection.
I felt small. The created universe was so huge and here I was stressing about the completion of one assignment. An assignment that I had already been told wouldn’t be accomplished for several years. What was I going to do in the meantime?
I looked back to the oasis and the temptation that beckoned there. If El Elyon had done all that I saw in the sky above, then He could help strengthen me in my weaknesses to do something that surely wasn’t as major of an event as things that He’d already performed in creation’s past.
Movement caught my eye and my head swiveled from its view of the oasis to the fast approaching rider coming towards me with a lowered lance. Alarmed, my mind seized up for a second.
No doubt the rider expected me to run and so I did, only I ran toward him instead of the other way. My actions seemed to jar the rider’s confidence and in the dim light I saw the rider’s head move side to side in search of what was giving me the confidence to attack instead of run.
I added to the unrest by waving my arms up and down and screaming out a nonsensical garble of sounds. His horse wanted no part of it and started to stutter out of its headlong gallop and turn off to the side.
The rider regained control, but in the moment of lost concentration the lance point dipped out of the way slightly and I seized on the opportunity and stepped off to the side and jerked it hard. The rider came along with the lance.
The rider had only just begun to rise up out of the dust when I crashed a rock down on his head. There were more riders coming and I wasted no time, but vaulted up into the saddle of the fallen bandit's horse and turned tail for the oasis.
I did my best to give out a warning, but something about a rider coming full tilt down a sand dune closely followed by a half-dozen others had a way of galvanizing a restful camp into action more than words alone. I saw guards and camel riders grab for weapons and arrows were soon whistling by my head in the direction of my pursuers.
I streamed into the trees and pulled the horse up sharply. Looking back I saw three pursuers were down and that the other three were retreating. There were shouts of triumph to be heard throughout the oasis. It only lasted for a moment though.
All laughter abruptly died at the sight of about 200 moon outlined forms against the horizon. The caravan only had 45 people in total and only 30 of them were trained fighters. I heard Bruton calling out commandingly and before I could believe it over half of the caravan’s camels were saddled with cargo and moving out of the oasis at a fast clip.
What were they doing?
Almost half of the caravan’s cargo still lay upon the sand of the oasis, unloaded. I saw my benefactor on a fast looking horse up by the caravan’s master and it was suddenly obvious to me what their plan of action was. She was sacrificing the guards, who had no means of escape other than their feet, along with what looked to be the less expensive items of cargo, on the wild chance that it would give her the time needed to escape with at least half the caravan’s cargo intact.
Her plan seemed to be working, because the large body of riders was converging on the oasis and not on the fast disappearing line of camels. The men who remained abandoned by their mistress were running about in evident panic as it became clear to them what was about to take place. The enemy riders were closing in.
I rode into the midst of a panicked bunch of men and called out authoritatively, “Get into the water! Get into it now!”
I got blank stares in return, but my audience was then brutally shoved along by Jarken and Thanuel, who seemed to know what I was about to do.
I spurred the horse I rode onward and, leaning out of the saddle, I snatched up a burning torch from near the caravan mistress’s tent and wasted no time firing it and all the cargo I could find. Arrows zipped about me, but none landed.
The cargo ablaze, as well as many of the tents, I dropped the torch and wheeled the horse toward the central waterhole. The horse gave out from beneath me as a javelin plunged deeply into its side, but a few inches from my leg.
I kicked my legs free of the stirrups and bolted from the saddle in a head first tumble. I somersaulted up to my feet and just kept running. Flames had already spread from the tents to the overhead canopy that was as dry as tinder.
I heard the sound of a horse’s neigh of terror from behind me as burning embers from the overhead canopy fell to the ground. A lance thrust past me by the barest of margins and I reacted aggressively. I dodged to the left and slammed into the horse’s shoulder, whose rider had just about gored me through.
The unexpected shove sent the horse into a tumble of horse and man. I launched into the shallow water and sloshed my way to the tight formed group of men near the pool’s center. None of the marauding raiders were as interested in attacking the men in the pool as they were with escaping the blazing inferno that was erupting all around us.
The cargo was beyond salvaging and with angered shouts the raiders fought free of the blazing oasis, leaving us alone. Through the smoke we watched as they regrouped and threw their mounts into hot pursuit after the departed caravan.
My plan had worked. Now all we had to do was survive the fire.
Coughing on smoke, I kept low in the water and watched for opportunities to escape, but the entire oasis was well ablaze. We were alive, but still, this smoke wasn’t good for anyone.
I gestured to the others when I saw a route open up and reluctantly they left the shelter of the water to follow after me. Being completely soaked helped combat against the heat of the flames, but it was still hot!
Finally a way opened up to where we were breathing fresher air and then suddenly we were free of the oasis. Gasping in relief, we pressed on until we were entirely free of the smoke and breathing the cleaner air of the desert.
Beating at the burning embers in my hair I watched the almost comical antics of the others, still fully clothed, beating at themselves and rolling around in the sand. I’d used my shirt to filter out smoke in order to breathe while still in the water, but I’d lost it at some point in the escape through the flames. I hugged my arms to my bare chest. The burning oasis was warm at my back, but the desert night air was cold.
A cloak fell about my shoulders and I glanced to the side to see that it was Thanuel who had done it. He was laughing as if it was all a big joke instead of being the dire circumstance it had been. We had just nearly all been burned alive.
Thanuel’s arm came around my shoulder and he shook me good-naturedly, “Ahhh what a good head you have on your shoulders Benaiah! If it wasn’t for that stunt, even now we would all be dead or being roasted alive over a bandit’s fire. Well done!”
“I just about got you killed and yet you’re thanking me for saving you?”
“I was but singed. It’s nothing! Now what are your orders?”
“Orders?” I responded back blankly.
“Yes! Orders! We are yours to lead. You saved our lives and we are now indebted to you. Aren’t we boys?” Thanuel called out. Roars of approval echoed out from the men gathered, the loudest of which being Jarken.
I separated away from Thanuel and turned to face the group, “I’m not your leader! I’m the youngest of you all to be sure!”
Thanuel pointed a big finger at me, “Ahhh but you are the smartest!”
Giving him a direct look I said, “I very much doubt that Thanuel.”
Thanuel shrugged his shoulders and smiled ruefully before then kneeling down on one knee and saying authoritatively, “It does not matter! You are a man. A good man. A man worth helping and I for one want to be a part of what you get yourself into. Here is my sword and my hand is ready to wield it, but it lacks direction as does the course of my life. Now, what are your orders?”
The others echoed much the same and I found myself staring down into the expectant faces of 14 battle hardened men who stared at me as if I was the source of their purpose for being. How had this come about?
Feeling unsure of what was expected of me as a leader I said by way of an order, “I’m headed north.”
Thanuel clapped his hands and rose to his feet, “North it is then!”
I shook my head as a sudden thought came to me, “We should see if anything remains of the cargo and catch up those camels grazing over there. I have no money. I can’t pay you anything, but if we complete the journey then maybe we’ll have something.”
Jarken nodded and walked toward the grazing camels slapping me on the back as he passed by. Half of the group followed, while the other half headed toward several piles of cargo that had gone untouched by the flames.
I stood there with Thanuel as I watched the others move off to accomplish the orders that I had just given.
“Why?” I asked aloud.
“Why not?” Thanuel responded.
I shook my head, at a loss for the way things were changing. I felt overwhelmed and excited all at the same time. Panic seized me all of a sudden. What if I messed up and got these men killed?
Thanuel stepped beside me to view the burning oasis. The mistress’s tent was gone and yet when he spoke I instantly knew what he was referring to, “That was special, what you did. I have seen few men, and none of your age, resist temptation such as that. You’ve already succeeded in one area where most have failed.”
“I’m nothing special, Thanuel, so don’t build me up as such.”
Thanuel smiled, “And yet, I believe that you are.”
He started to walk off to where they were loading cargo up and I said, “What if I get us all killed?”
Thanuel turned and shrugged, “Death comes to all of us at some point. The difference, though, is in how one faces it. You have a choice Benaiah, live in fear of death or live life fully and do what needs done. I think you’re the latter and that’s enough, as it’s better to go out like a lion then choked off like an old hound on a leash.”
He continued on and I shook my head at his twisted logic. He did have a point though. What good did worrying get me right now?
Now was the time for action, with the future being a new surprise around each corner of life’s path. I wanted to see what lay ahead and now I had a company of men to go along for the journey. I wasn’t alone anymore and I had the respect of others. That was a rather nice feeling.
I saw some more camels and I headed off to help Jarken round them up. My life had just jumped once again in a way I hadn’t expected. Would I ever be ready for what life threw at me next?
Reversely, what did it matter if I wasn’t ready? I had purpose in the belief in El Elyon and He directed my steps and provided the abilities that I lacked. Should death find me it would not be an end, but rather the start of another journey.
At peace, at the realization of the slack hold of the fear of dying, I headed back toward the oasis tugging on the lead strap of the string of wide-eyed camels. They didn’t like the flames, but oddly for me as I gazed at the fire consuming the oasis, I had a vision of seeing the sight again, only it would be houses on fire and not palm trees.
*****
A day into our journey we found what was left of the caravan. There wasn’t much.
The bandits had been thorough and merciless in their cleanup of the forward caravan. Buzzards lifted off the ground from the scattered corpses that littered the desert.
The caravan had been caught strung out and on the move, with no chance of mounting a defense. Strangely I felt no sympathy for the dead as they, by their own actions, had sold us down the river to die in their place. It hadn’t worked out that way though.
A pair of jackals broke away from the carcass of a camel and sped off a distance to wait for us to pass by. It was a large camel and instantly I knew it to be that of the caravan master.
The big man had impressed me and it didn’t surprise me that I didn’t see him lying on the ground. Bruton would have taken out a lot of the enemy and yet I saw no sign of a struggle. I did see spots of blood though, leading up a dune.
I paused and the caravan stopped. While the others waited behind me I debated about what to do.
I owed the man nothing. He’d had little to say to me and yet I had respected him. He’d run a tight ship when it came down to doing his job. Somehow, leaving him behind to bleed out or die of dehydration in the desert didn’t seem a fitting end for such a man.
I dropped the rope of my camel and headed toward the dune. Without saying anything, several of the others followed along.
I crested the dune and saw more blood. Following the trail, I came to the gully bottom between two dunes and the trail of blood abruptly ended. The hair on the back of my neck lifted. How did a blood trail just disappear like that?
The only possible solution was that he…..I jumped to the side as a blade thrust up out of the sand directly at me. I felt the breeze of it pass by and had instant reflection on just how short life could be. I seized hold of the black wrist that was easily twice the size of mine and held on for dear life.
The man was desperate to survive and sickeningly I saw him bringing up his other fist to smash into my head. Jarken seized hold of the incoming hand and together we immobilized the weakened man, who at full power would’ve smashed our heads together and pulped our brains.
“Bruton it’s us! Friends!” Thanuel yelled out, trying to reach into the caravan master’s panicked consciousness.
Some part of me couldn’t believe what the man had done. Wounded, he’d buried himself here in the sand and waited patiently for a chance to either kill one of his hunters or buy the time needed to survive. The broken off haft of a javelin still protruded from the man’s left side. He’d been smart not to remove it as he would have bled out by now, but it was doing him no favors to leave it in.
Sand clung to Bruton’s sweaty body as evidence of the fever that now gripped him. His eyes traced from one to the other of us in disbelief as he breathed hard.
“You should kill me, for that was what I did to you by leaving you at the oasis!”
“And yet we’re not. Jarken, go get some wood. That spear needs to come out and the wound's going to need to be cauterized or he’ll bleed out,” I said matter-of-factly.
We let Bruton settle back to the ground as the majority of those who had followed rushed off to get supplies and wood. Bruton’s bloodshot eyes had never left me and he continued to probe for an answer, “Why?”
I shrugged, “Why not.”
He snorted sharply and I could tell he wasn’t content with my answer so I gave him the truth, as much as I knew of it, “It wouldn’t have been right to just ride on and let you die out here in the sand.”
“I did just the same to you!” he barked out.
“But you see, I’m not you. I’m me.”
He was silent then and the others were back with the supplies and enough wood to make a fire. I watched as those more skilled in the art of caring for wounds took over.
The big man didn’t even so much as flinch as the spear shaft was removed. Not even when the hot knives were pressed against the wounds. I flinched.
I hoped I’d done the right thing by saving this man, but I wasn’t sure. For whatever reason, he seemed angry at me for saving him. I hoped he’d get over it because as an enemy I never wanted to face him.
*****
We passed through several Lancandian towns until we reached the mistress's home city of Fortoran, the capital of the Kingdomer Nation of Lancandia. It's appearance was even more garish and well-off than Thyana's had been.
That was kind of a surprise. Thyana was already showing the stress of the constant raids along her southern border and yet I saw none of that here and Lancandia actually bordered the Itarga Mountains from where the lion men came.
Lancandia was a much closer target to be raided than Thyana. Lancandia had always been known as the most peaceful of the seven kingdoms and as a result they fielded the smallest of the seven armies. What was protecting them from invasion?
Looking about at all the expensive wares and how well-off everyone seemed to be, I couldn’t quite get out of my head that perhaps the invasion had come from a different means. Had they sold their soul?
We soon found out, from asking some questions, that the mistress had surprisingly survived the attack on the caravan and had arrived within the city several days before. We headed with what remained of the caravan toward the mansion that we were told was hers.
With everything we’d been able to salvage we’d come up with about a third of the original value of the caravan. Even though there had been so much lost, the caravan was still going to pay for itself.
I just hoped that we were paid.
*****
I mentally reined myself in as I did not want to anger another of the seven kingdoms, but still it was with the expectation of being cheated that I traveled down the marble hallway in the wake of the finely dressed servant.
The journey through the mistress’s mansion brought me through numerous groups of jabbering people, whose conversations came to a halt as I passed by before starting back up again. Just who were all these people anyway?
They appeared, for lack of better words, to simply be the idle rich. I did not care for them, as they seemed blind to any familiar reality in the way they talked and dressed.
At last the servant brought me to a room that contained only one individual. She had played my temptress in the desert, but today the temptress side was gone, much to my relief. She was staring pensively out a large window at the streets of the city beyond. I stopped at a respectful distance from her desk and waited.
Finally she spoke, “How much did you manage to save?”
“You’re not asking the right question,” I responded evenly.
Her head swung to me sharply, “What?” she asked, surprised.
“I said you’re not asking the right question,” I repeated firmly.
Something about my tone seemed to shake her up and in a meek voice she asked, “What should I be asking?”
“How many of us