Chapter 4

I wasn’t sure why we didn’t start for home in the morning, but I wasn’t in charge, so I didn’t worry about it. I figured we were probably awaiting word from the Donnakian scouts who were following the retreating remnant of the Kahjohngi army, making sure they didn’t regroup for another attack. I doubted that they would, since they knew the Donnakians would be better prepared now. They also knew how near to impossible it would be, and how horrific the cost of such an attempt would be in terms of Kahjohngi lives.

I spent time honing and oiling my swords. Then, after finding a secluded area, I instructed Ashia and Doreta to keep people from wandering into the area while I began what had been my daily practice routine using two swords before I joined the army. While I considered myself far from proficient with two swords, I had noticed during my dash to escape the Kahjohngi camp that my simultaneous use of two swords had come naturally and without thought.

I hadn’t consciously thought about each blow or strike I delivered. My entire body had worked in concert to keep me balanced and to deliver the strikes effectively, usually to the neck. Nor had I delivered a strike that caused one of my swords to become stuck, so I would’ve been forced to abandon it.

Half a mark later, I was sweating after going through my forms. Feeling a newfound confidence in my work with two swords, I began a second repetition, setting an even faster pace than the first time through. I was sweating profusely when I finished and turned to Ashia to get my gourd of water. I was embarrassed when I realized that more than a hundred of the Congraian troops had been watching me.

“Amazing,” Lieutenant Fosser exclaimed. “I would have cut myself so many times that I would have bled to death before finishing the first routine. Where did you learn to do that?”

“Once we’re strong enough to wield two swords, it’s a routine every clan member chosen to serve as a warrior practices daily. We start with unsharpened swords and go through the motions very slowly at first. It took me two years of daily practice before they let me do it with sharpened swords.”

“I heard a report that you ran through the Kahjohngi camp and killed twenty of their men with your swords but wasn’t sure whether or not to believe it. I believe it now,” he said.

“It helped that I was already inside their camp. I’d just killed two officers in their tents when someone shouted a warning. I was trying to escape the camp alive and used the swords on any of their troops in my way. They were looking towards the village and weren’t expecting an attack coming from inside their camp.”

After cleaning and oiling my swords, I headed into town with my retinue following me to where I had heard there was a bathing facility. After only bathing with a cloth from a frigid stream or a bowl of water for several days I wanted a real bath. We found the baths and I was surprised to learn that they had separate areas for men and women. Our clan has a single bathing facility. When the weather is cool, we use coal to heat the water in four huge copper kettles, so we don’t get chilled while bathing.

Once the water in a kettle is hot enough, it’s dumped into a concrete cistern that feeds the water into the bath. A long, brick and mortar viaduct runs underground the length of the north side of the bath. It has ten openings where the water flows into the bath near the bottom. The south edge of the bath is two fingers shorter than the rest and the extra water flows over the edge and into a culvert that leads into a holding basin used to irrigate crops.

As a child, you quickly learn not to stare at people just because they’re naked and quickly become accustomed to being naked in front of others. Still, it gets a bit embarrassing when guys reach puberty and begin getting erections over which they seemingly have absolutely no control.

I felt much better after my bath and had noticed how Aito and Elii had tried to imitate me as I bathed and washed my hair. After bathing, we dressed, and then had to wait nearly half a mark for the girls to finish.

On the way through town as we headed back to camp, I noticed a woman staggering across the street, looking around as if she were searching for something. Worried that she was hurt, I approached.

“Are you okay?” I asked, startling her. I had to catch her to keep her from falling. She reeked of ale.

“I’sh fahn,” she replied, her words slurred. She was obviously drunk, and it was barely midday. “I’sh jush trahn tuh fahnd muh brats a’fore they getsh in tru ... trouble,” she stammered. Holding her arm to keep her upright, I helped her find her three children. When we found them, they looked terrible, and terrified. They looked as if they hadn’t eaten properly in weeks, and all three had bruises on their faces and arms.

“Nufin but tru ... trouble from thosh three,” she said angrily when she saw them.

“If they’re so much trouble, why not sell them?” I asked, hoping she didn’t notice my shudder of revulsion when I said that.

“Ah trahed, nobody wansh ‘em.”

“I’ll give you one silver piece for each of them,” I offered, fully expecting her to be indignant at the low price.

“Deal,” she replied excitedly. Her enthusiasm about ridding herself of her children saddened me. As much as I hated taking them away from their mother, I had a feeling they would quickly be glad that I had, especially once they had enough to eat and their bruises healed.

I flagged down one of the Donnakian troops patrolling the city and had him witness the transaction. I doubted that the woman would sober up for at least a couple days, but if she did, I didn’t want her telling everyone that I stole her kids. She might not remember selling them.

“Not that it’s my business, but what do you want with three little ones?” the soldier asked after the woman staggered off, happily clutching the three silver coins.

“I plan to take them back to our clan where they will be taken in by a family. They will be raised just like the other clan children. The boys will become apprentices when they’re eight. The girl will learn how to run a home of her own for when she’s old enough to marry,” I replied.

“You’re a good man,” he said, and then resumed his patrol.

We bought food for tonight’s dinner, and bread and cheese for lunch. The girls managed to find sandals and better clothing for the three children. The kids scarfed their food down like they were afraid someone would take it away from them. Seeing their condition tore at my heart. I felt bad for the woman, too, but doubted that there was anything I could do to help her.

The females in our group oohed and aahed over the three kids. The two boys, Xalo and Koto were seven and four. Njosi was six.

“Are you going to be our father?” Njosi asked hopefully.

“I will be for now. Once we get to my home in a few days, we’ll find you a mother and father who already have children your age. They’ll take care of you just like they do their own children.”

We fed them a small amount again mid-afternoon. As shrunken as their stomachs had to be, I didn’t want to give them more than a little bit at a time.

Lieutenant Fosser stopped by while we were eating dinner. “There will be a ceremony midmorning tomorrow. Our King should arrive tonight. The two kings will announce a formal alliance in the morning and then publicly thank the troops, both Congraian and Donnakian. After the ceremony is over, we’ll prepare to return home. We’ll leave shortly after sunrise in two days.”

“Still collecting?” he asked with a grin, nodding to the three newest members of my entourage.

“The clan will raise them as clan children and teach them what they need to know. The boys will be apprenticed when they’re eight and the girl will have a mother to teach her how to do the things necessary to take care of her own family when she marries.”

“From what I heard, it’s a good thing you got them. Unlike your clan, Donnakian men and most of the men in Congra are only allowed one wife. When the girl was older, she would probably have spent the rest of her life in a brothel, or in an abusive situation,” Fosser explained.

That night, while the three newest members of our group slept soundly, several of the females rewarded me for rescuing the children.

After breakfast, I dressed in the only shirt I owned with a clan insignia on it. Mother had given it to me the night before I left for Bellcaava.

“Just in case you need it,” she had said proudly. The only time anyone wore our clan insignia was to an official function of some sort. The insignia was an embroidered patch worn over the heart. It was small enough that I could cover it with three fingers. Only the Clan Patriarch and Seamii wore larger insignias, which were slightly bigger than my hand. Seamii were allowed a similar sized tattoo over their heart.

Over the shirt, I wore the “uniform” I had been given by the Congraian military, a dark green cloak with an embroidered mountain lion on the left shoulder. Instead of an official uniform, scouts wore non-identifying clothing designed to blend into their surroundings. We only wore the cloaks when we needed to identify ourselves as Congraian troops.

Sergeant Baekor gathered us together well before midmorning and Lieutenant Fosser led us to a large practice area for mounted troops that was just outside the castle walls. Captain Karbo and his men were already there, right in front of us. Several large pavilion style tents had been set up against the castle wall. In front of the three center tents was a wooden platform just over two paces high.

Captain Karbo and several of his men sought me out to shake my hand and thank me for helping. The Captain arranged the ranks so Sergeant Baekor’s scouts were the front group of Congraian scouts. The rest of Lieutenant Fosser’s scouts were behind us. Behind them, more Donnakian troops were assembled, and the bulk of the Congraian troops were behind the Donnakian troops. Squires and slaves belonging to the assembled troops were behind them. Even farther back, ordinary citizens were assembling to see what was happening.

After what seemed like an interminable wait, three men dressed in fancy, colorful uniforms of some sort stepped up onto the platform. Once all three were on the platform, they raised brass horns to their lips and sounded four notes in unison. Ta ... Ta ... Ta ... Taaaaaaaa.

An elderly gentleman wearing expensive clothing and a long flowing robe followed the horn players, pounding the end of his bejeweled staff three times on the wooden platform to get everyone’s attention, not that the horns hadn’t already.

“His Majesty, King Tariske,” he boomed, loud enough that I’m sure that even people in the back heard him.

Moments later, King Tariske climbed the wooden stairs at the back of the stage and the man who had announced him bowed and then stepped behind him as the Donnakian troops all genuflected briefly. Even though he wasn’t my King, I joined them out of courtesy.

“The Kahjohngis have been decisively defeated!” he exclaimed once everyone had stood again. The pronouncement drew a loud cheer.

“They have withdrawn completely from the Nawor Pass!” he shouted excitedly, receiving a second exuberant roar.

“Today, I recognize Captain Karbo who managed to slow the advance of a vastly superior force long enough for reinforcements to arrive, and for leading the final, decisive assault against the main force of Kahjohngi troops,” he praised, starting yet another round of cheering.

“I would also like to commend Sergeant Acabo Oprak for leading surprise assaults against two different detachments of Kahjohngi troops, as well as for setting up the defenses in the village of Olaro to repel an assault by a superior Kahjohngi force. Effective today, he is promoted to Lieutenant.” That led to more cheering and a lot of backslapping by the men around Acabo. I wished that I’d been closer so I could congratulate him, too. Without him to lead us through unfamiliar territory, we couldn’t have accomplished as much as we had.

“Today, I extend my thanks and the thanks of the people of Donnak to King Sarikol of Congra and to the Congraian troops who came to help us defeat the Kahjohngis,” the King said, and then turned to face the stairs leading to the platform. I watched excitedly as our King climbed the stairs to the platform. I joined my fellow Congraian troops as we cheered and genuflected.

“King Sarikol of Congra and I signed a treaty this morning, formally making us allies and pledging to help defend each other if attacked,” King Tariske announced, and then the two Kings shook hands as the crowd cheered.

“I would also like to thank Clan Teopaqa of Congra,” King Tariske proclaimed. “The superior crossbows they sold us gave our troops a much-needed advantage over the more numerous enemy troops.”

Once again, he turned towards the stairs. I almost shouted and cheered when our Clan Patriarch climbed the steps, looking every bit as regal as the two monarchs. I felt a surge of pride in the clan as I watched him walk towards the two kings and then genuflect before rising and meeting them. I wondered when he got here, guessing that he had arrived with King Sarikol last night.

Once greetings were exchanged, the Donnakian King began speaking again. “Aside from selling us the crossbows, Clan Teopaqa sent us another weapon, one of their highly skilled warriors. For more than a week, I had received distressing reports about the slow but steady advance through the Nawor Pass by the Kahjohngi troops. Then I received a report about a nighttime raid by now Lieutenant Acabo Oprak and Koyle, of Clan Teopaqa. They killed six Kahjohngi scouts trying to reach the Donnakian camp, and then slipped into the Kahjohngi camp and killed four of their officers, escaping with the Kahjohngi payroll and their packhorses.

“The next report I received told of five hundred of our troops planning a nighttime raid on the enemy camp. Instead, three hundred of our troops intercepted and engaged fifteen hundred Kahjohngi troops trying to mount a surprise attack against our camp that same night. With the longer range of the crossbows and with more than half of those troops on hillsides flanking the Kahjohngi troops, they quickly decimated the surprised Kahjohngis.

“Koyle’s name was again cited, this time for leading the three hundred troops who engaged and defeated the enemy.

“The following day, now Lieutenant Acabo Oprak went with Koyle and another Congraian scout named Jori to check the village of Olaro, the westernmost village in the Nawor pass. Koyle noticed hundreds of boot prints leading out through the back gate. On the way back to report what they found, he spotted Kahjohngi sentries hiding above the trail and noted their positions.

“That night, Acabo, Koyle, and Jori attacked those sentry positions. One report described Koyle climbing up a sheer cliff like a rock lizard to attack a sentry position. Afterwards, he is said to have looked like a spider as he descended using a rope.

“After the three men killed the sentries at the three outposts, five hundred Donnakian crossbow archers occupied Olaro and began setting up defenses. With them standing guard for him, Koyle snuck into the Kahjohngi camp in an effort to kill their officers. When one of the Kahjohngi troops shouted a warning, Koyle escaped the camp without injury while using his two swords to kill twenty-three Kahjohngi troops.

“He then stood with the crossbow archers on the town’s walls, killing the two remaining officers, as well as another eighty-seven Kahjohngi troops trying to reach the walls. Thank you, Koyle, and I thank Clan Teopaqa as well for their help,” he said emotionally. A huge cheer erupted from everyone in attendance.

As the crowd began breaking up, I saw the Patriarch looking out over the assembled troops. Using the hand signals our warriors learn, he signed for me to join him. Moving against the flow of departing troops, I shook hands with and receiving congratulations from several Donnakian troops who had gotten to know me. I angled toward the left side of the platform since everyone had ascended the platform from that end.

Finally clearing the crowd, I hurried around the end of the platform and my heart skipped a beat. With the Patriarch and both Kings was Karela standing in front of the retinue of slaves I’d collected. Monifa, the terrified redhead, was there too, and looked much happier and more at ease than when I last saw her. My parents and younger siblings were there, too.

Our Patriarch smiled when he saw me and motioned me over to join them. I made the obligatory genuflection to our King and a courtesy genuflection to the Donnakian King. Our Patriarch requires only that we show him respect.

“A remarkable young man,” King Tariske commented as I approached. “After hearing about all of his deeds, I thought he was a wily, seasoned veteran. When the messengers told me he was young, I thought maybe twenty-five. When I met him, I was stunned to see just how young he was.

“He was perfectly mannered and seemed quite at ease when he met with me last time. I thought he must be the eldest son of a noble. Instead, I found out last night that he is the second son of your clan’s sword master, not nobility. The officers I questioned about him claim that he neither brags about what he’s done nor shows off, despite his exceptional skill and how much loot he has collected from the troops he killed.

“Yesterday, he found a quiet place to practice with his swords. He had two of his slaves nearby to keep people back and was oblivious to the crowd that had gathered to watch him. I even got to watch part of his practice from the castle walls and was amazed at the speed and fluidity of his movements as he spun and kicked, slashing at imagined opponents using both swords simultaneously.

“At times, his arms were a blur. Several times, I was sure that he had cut himself because it seemed that one of his blades slashed through his other hand or arm. Yet, when he finished, he was uninjured. When he noticed so many people watching him, he was embarrassed.

“He treats his slaves more like family members than slaves. As everyone can see, they all seem happy. One of the city guards reported that he bought three young children because their mother was a drunk and wasn’t caring for them. The first thing he did was buy them food and clothing.”

I was glad when he finally stopped; it was embarrassing. Unless asked or unless there is a problem, clan members rarely talk about what they have done. Each person has a job they have been trained to do and is expected to do it to the best of their ability.

“I have talked to King Sarikol and received his permission to make you a knight if you wish,” King Tariske said directly to me. “Knowing that you live in Congra, any obligation to respond to a call to arms would be mitigated by similar obligations to your own King, as well as by any obligations you might have to your clan.”

I hadn’t even thought of becoming a knight, although the station of a knight was similar to that of a Seami. Being a Seami meant you were proficient with every weapon, as well as in hand-to-hand Dragon Claw fighting. It also meant that you had proven yourself by performing exceptionally in battle and showing leadership skills.

While many Narcilian nobles had been Seamii, a title of nobility was not a requirement to be a Seami. However, for one of those nobles to become a warlord definitely meant that he was a Seami. The warlords each oversaw the troops in one of the nine provinces and were appointed by and swore their allegiance directly to the Emperor.

Knighthood could be conferred upon you for exceptional bravery in battle, or simply because you were the son of a noble. It could be bestowed by the King or by another noble. All Congraian nobles were knights, and in a few cases, a Knight acted in the role of a minor noble.

I glanced at King Sarikol and noted his nod of approval. A glance at the Clan Patriarch got a similar nod of agreement.

“I would be honored,” I told King Tariske. It was easy to tell that this had previously been discussed because King Tariske had everything handy that was necessary for the ceremony, and I found myself knighted in a whirlwind ceremony.

“I too wish to confer upon you the title of knight,” King Sarikol said when the ceremony finished. “I would rather do it in Bellcaava so the other nobles can witness the ceremony. I spoke with your Clan Patriarch last night about my desire and he approves. Once you are knighted, I will make you my bailiff for what is known as the Wild Territory. For years, nobles have hounded me to appoint one of their sons as the baron of the Wild Territory. One of my Earls has even been pressuring me to join the territory to his and elevate him to a Duke.

Once he learns that I made you my bailiff, he will most likely challenge you to a duel, probably with swords because he considers himself one of the best swordsmen in the country. Both your father and Patriarch have assured me that you are far better.”

“Perhaps a demonstration is in order,” our Patriarch suggested.

“An excellent idea,” King Tariske replied, motioning towards the large area where the troops had just been assembled. While Father and the Patriarch moved everyone into position encircling an area large enough for me to go through my practice routine, I stripped off the “uniform” cloak and my good shirt with the clan emblem and changed into moccasins.

I started slowly and built speed until I was going slightly faster than yesterday. I looked around when I finished. My parents and Karela looked proud. The Patriarch smiled and nodded his approval, which meant a lot to me. King Sarikol looked stunned.

“By the goddess!” King Sarikol exclaimed as Father came over and hugged me again.

“I see that you have finally learned to allow your training to guide you. That was much faster than I’ve seen you go before,” Father commented.

“I realized after escaping the Kahjohngi camp that I’d been intent on where I was going and hadn’t been paying attention to what my body was doing as I used the swords. I finally understood what you’ve been trying to teach me and practiced that way yesterday.”