The Ninth Prophecy
Marching on

The next day, as Venegorans were anxiously looking at the grey-white flags of the Kulins high on the masts of their ships, the crews and all others aboard the ships of Baan Senicore were making last preparations for disembarking. Yon was looking around, as if he wanted to store the memory of his magnificent fleet in his head, where he would keep it as his fleet, the fleet of Baan Senicore.

Moments before the deadline given by the Venegorans, the flags on all the ships started descending at a slow pace, as if the flags themselves were coming down unwillingly. White smoke appeared in the sky and Senicorans began to land, one at a time. There were no smiles, no voices. The expedition resembled a funeral procession.

The lord’s ship was welcomed by Legan and his entourage. Once again, Legan put on a polite smile as he addressed Yon: “Lord Yon, if I may, I would like to invite you and your party to a dinner later tonight, as a token of our appreciation.” Yon stopped for a second and looked far into the distance. Then he looked Legan straight in the eyes. He stared at him for a few seconds. One would think with the intention of piercing through Legan’s soul. He said nothing. As he was to walk by, Faris suddenly grabbed Legan by the neck and threw him on the ground. “You shameless snake,” he screamed out, throwing Legan down. Legan crawled backwards, seeking safety behind the blades of his harbor watch guards. Yon’s party also drew weapons. Almost at the same moment, bows and crossbows could be seen at the windows of the surrounding houses, all pointed towards the Senicorans.

Yon reacted first lowering the weapons of his guards and lifting his open palms up in the air: “Stop! Stop! There is no need for this! We have come in peace and we shall leave in peace!”

- “It seems that it’s a little too late for that,” Legan uttered in a fuming tone, visibly upset and angered by Faris’s assault.

- “Your brother has committed a great crime against Venegor by assaulting me and you will have to pay.”

- “Do not ask for my brother’s life because the only way you will get it is in a battle!”

- “Oh no, I don’t want your brother’s life, my fair lord, however suitable that may be. We are a trader’s town, a peaceful colony. Therefore, I demand you give us a half of what you have brought with you of your treasury’s wealth.”

- “A half of what we have?! No way! I would rather die fighting,” Faris commented.

- “Will you shut up Faris?! You’ve done enough,” Yon commented angrily and went on to conclude the matter. “Then, a half it is.”

Just before they shook hands, Dokal interrupted: “My lord, before we conclude the matter, I must point out one thing.”

- “Speak up, I’m sure your words carry certain…weight,” Legan noted, obviously mocking Dokal and his physical appearance.

- “If I am not mistaken, and I never am on such matters, we are still standing on the dock, are we not?”

- “Yes, we are,” Legan answered reluctantly, as Dokal continued: “Well, then you must be aware that, by the rules of the realm, all the docks, including those of Venegor, are zones of neutrality, where the rules of maritime trade are applied.”

- “What does that mean Dokal,” Yon asked his councilor.

With a satisfied look on his face, Dokal continued, as Legan was looking down all red in the face. - “Well, that means that the argument we witnessed is to be treated similarly as all such disputes on the border between the sea and the earth. What this means, my lord, is that on the docks one cannot be sanctioned nor privileged as a lord, an administrator or even a king. All are equals in trade and shipping. This means that Legan can’t claim the penalty for being struck as a lord, or as an administrator in his case, but only a penalty for a so-called trader’s argument. This means that in the cases where the only damage is done to the pride and to the honor and none to the wellbeing of the claimer of the right, the damaged party can claim only one half of the property of the one who did him harm. Is this so, Legan – forgive me for not calling you administrator for we are still on a dock?”

- “That seems to be right. In the heat of the argument, I forgot that we were standing on a dock,” Legan squeezed through his teeth.

- “Are you nuts! It would have been better if you had stayed silent,” Yon whispered at Dokal’s ear.

Dokal continued undistracted: “As we all know, young Faris is no owner of the treasury, his brother is. Therefore, you are entitled to a half of whatever young Faris owns and it is all there in the shabby bag he carries over his shoulder.”

- “No need. As a token of our good will, I wave my right to a half of the possession of this man, carried in that rugged bag. I can imagine how hard it must be to carry all you have in a bag. Being a refugee must be tough,” Legan said with a touch of irony and full of disgust.

- “Well, that’s too bad because my bag is full of the gold ore we salvaged from the lord’s tower. It’s so heavy that it tore up the bag. One would think that this bag would be the last place where a lord would hide the gold of his land. That’s what makes it so safe, doesn’t it? Anyway, I respect your decision. You are not a fan of gold obviously. Suite yourself,” Faris concluded casually, leaving Legan with his eyes wide open and cheeks inflamed with rage.

- “Well then, the matter is settled. You have what you asked for and we will leave in peace. Once again, accept an apology for my brother’s lack of manners,” Yon said with relief.

As the long row of Senicorans was moving out of Venegor, the town already being behind their backs, Faris and Yon finally broke the silence which lasted from the moment they left the docks. It was Faris who carefully approached his brother.

- “Yon, I’m sorry. It was a stupid reaction. I should’ve known better. It’s just that I…”

- “Are you kidding? If I knew how little it would cost me, I would’ve smacked the skunk myself! And when you told him of the ‘gold ore’?! How in the world did you come up with that? You are a piece of work brother, a-ha-ha-ha!”

- “Did you see the look on his face when I said ‘gold ore’? By the name of The One, that’s what I call a priceless moment!”

They both laughed so hard that they had to sit down on a rock as Faris emptied the contents of his bag in front of his feet: one fur, two sets of footwear, a helmet, few pieces of body armor, a bow, a couple of Galian arrows and two dead chickens!

- “Dokal really stepped up back there, you know,” Faris turned his brother’s attention to his faithful servant.

- “Yes, he has proven himself worthy.”

Dokal was just passing by along with Hadera and Darion, a horse dragging him along on stretchers. “You two lazy rags, get up. There’s a long way ahead of us. There are plenty of rocks you can warm up with your asses, but we have a fight to prepare for,” Darion said in a cheerful voice.

- “Yes, we will obey my dear general. You and Geren make our only two generals or, judging by your condition, a general and a half, ” Yon poked Darion. It was Geren’s turn to return the joke to Yon: “If you are a king without land and I am a marine general without a fleet, what does that make us –a theater group? ”

- “Yes, that’s quite possible my friend! ”

- “So, what do you think is happening in Baan Senicore,” Hadera asked Yon.

- “It’s hard to say. Daors has probably arrived by now. I don’t think his going to be happy with how his commanders handled the army and the battle. They lost a lot more than they expected.”

- “I think he’s going to put Aegor in charge of the city. I doubt he would have bargained for anything less,” Faris reasoned, picking a white flower from the ground and tucking it behind his ear. “What do you think he’ll do to Rhyius if he finds him alive? What gruesome destiny awaits him? “, Faris asked of Yon’s opinion.

- “The most gruesome of all. Daors is probably going to recruit him. He could use his services and his knowledge of Baan Senicore and of the people of the south.”

- “Yes, Rhyius could be very precious to them,” Hadera added.

- “These sons of bitches are always on the winning side. Lords come and go, they lose heads and kingdoms, but a servile poltroon is always needed,” Darion commented with bitterness in his voice.

- “Don’t hate them for what they are, friend. They have loyalties; they just don’t express them too often. They will always choose the one to their liking if they have a choice, as long as it doesn’t endanger them.”

- “Well screw that kind of loyalty. Loyalty is what my brothers of the Fraternity did. Loyalty has to do with sacrifice. If you are not willing to sacrifice yourself for a cause or a man representing it, then you are not loyal neither to the idea nor to the man,” Faris made the point.

As they marched silently through the Forrest of Shades, Yon ordered the march to stop, as they needed to rest, especially the women and children. Hadera put her bow beside her and, looking into the distance from a small barrow, decided to share her doubts with the others.

- “The Dabors live not too far from here. It is some two hours walk. The army of Karos must have passed through their land on their way south. I wonder what happened, if anything. There were no Dabors on the battlefield.” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

- “Yes, but aren’t they supposed to be nobody’s but their own,” Faris asked.

- “Aren’t we all supposed to be just that?” Hadera replied without going further into the matter.

A small girl of some eight to nine summers pulled Yon’s hand: “My dear lord, do you have any spare food for me and my mom. ”

- “What is your name my fair lady, if I may ask? ”

- “Siona, my lord. ”

- “Well, Siona, I have a couple of apples and some mushrooms I’m willing to share with you. Before I do that, tell me Siona, do you have any special talents? ”

- “Actually, my lord, I sing with the city choir.”

- “Oh, you do! Well, I will give you this food, but it has to be a fair bargain. What do you say you sing a song for us?”

- “Which one would you like?”

- “Whichever the lady prefers,” Yon replied, handing over the fruit and a handful of mushrooms. Without putting the food down, the little girl said: “I will sing The Message of the Stone Hawk for you”.

It was a song which was a hymn of the southlands. The girl took a deep breath and started singing in a surprisingly melodic voice:

Far, far, under the crying silver skies,

Far, far, above the vast grassy lands,

On the willow bedding the stone hawk lies.

The sorrowing skies ask the hawk:

Oh why, why, why don’t you cry,

For the silky land is dry and the man,

The man just gives up and fails to try?

To my crying sky I send this reply:

The southern land shall be in no despair,

The silky land will give birth again,

To heroes of the south in the lion’s den,

And the voice of the man will once more fly,

Telling to the hearer the story of the men.

The lands of grass spoke to the mighty hawk:

Why, oh why don’t you lie down and sleep,

For you are too tired to fight the wrongs,

Your wings are so heavy, you’ll fall down deep?

To my vast grassy lands, I send this reply:

With each birth of the sun I am again strong

I will not die, I will not comply,

The sun of the south and my mighty throng,

Of souls of the south to which I belong,

Fight on until the sun fades in the sky.

No, oh no, the hawk never shall yield,

The land shall rise, the fair men will charge,

And no mighty foe on the battlefield,

Can claim the soul of the south so large.

Far, far, under the crying silver skies,

Far, far, above the vast grassy lands,

On the willow bedding the stone hawk lies.

When the girl finished, one could hear a single leaf of grass rub against another on the gentle wind. Faris’s eyes were full of water and Yon gazed far behind the clouds in the skies. Hadera stood up proud. The girl accidentally dropped one of her mushrooms and Yon rushed to pick it from the ground and give it back to the girl. In a gentle voice, he spoke to the girl: “Thank you. I got a very good deal out of this bargain. Your performance deserves a lot more than what I offered to you.”

* * *

At the docks at Baan Senicore, a small ship was preparing to leave the harbor. Aboard the ship was Damius, king’s envoy for the occasion. Some two hundred lengths away were numerous drifter ships, circling around like vultures fixated on their dying prey. As the ship was to leave, Damius waved to his father. Daors just slightly nodded his head and turned his worried look towards the drifter fleet. He grabbed his belt as if it caused him discomfort in his stomach instead of the imminent threat on the sea. As the ship slowly left the harbor, the drifters steadied their vessels, one of them taking the central position. It was the one with the most tusks and it had the biggest tusks of them all. As ropes were thrown over, Darius was preparing to get on board the drifter ship.

- “Who are you and why shouldn’t I kill you on the spot,” a voice from the drifter ship asked. Trying to locate the speaker, Damius answered: “I am Damius, legitimate son of Daors Barantham, the king of the realm of the straightwalkers.”

- “He’s not my king. He may be the king of the land but we rule the sea. Don’t you know? Drifters own the seas, not kings,” a small, dark tanned man replied, emerging at the deck from the belly of the ship. Although his voice was authoritative, the appearance didn’t seem all too impressive. He was a relatively small man with a short beard and several knives tucked behind his belt. He wore a headband of which the true color could not be determined - stained would be the best description.

- “As true as that may be, you will never hear me retell your words. You may do with me as you wish but stepping on your ship is not worthy of my name’s humiliation, nothing is. We are the Baranthams, the kings. Decide now.”

Hearing Damius’s words, his crew could not believe the risk he was exposing them to. They were increasingly nervous, since none of them thought that arguing with the drifter captain could bring them any good. However, few moments later they were given the signal to come aboard. A tall well-shaped woman leads them across the deck into the captain’s quarters, where the bearded man was already waiting for them, seated. The woman showed them their places. Before he got seated, Damius thought that he should shake hands with the captain. But, as he extended his hand, his invitation for a handshake was left unanswered. He sat down, not paying attention to the incident.

- “Captain, I, Damius Barantham…”

- “You already said who you are. Do you think I’m stupid that you have to repeat the same things again?”

- “No sir, I just thought, you know, it is a custom and a proscribed course of action that we introduce…”

- “Proscribed course of action?” said the drifter captain mockingly, leaning back on his chair. All other drifters in the room laughed.

- “Here, we decide what is custom and we ‘proscribe’ our own course,” he continued in the same tone.

- “Well, won’t you introduce yourself?”

- “Boy, did your father send you here to find a lover or maybe to teach us your ways, because I’m thinking that this must be it? I see no other reason for your desire to learn my name? Are the women of Karos so ugly that you have to look for a mate among the handsome drifters? I must tell you, I am taken, but maybe my friend Urf might be interested,” the captain stuck to his comedy act, pointing to one of his large bearded fellows. As he continued to poke Damius, who kept his cool, the captain obviously took the pleasure in his speech which went on. “You know what? Maybe Urf will take you for the night! He will give you the pleasure you could only dream of! So, what do you say?”

- “Are you going to finish any time soon or should I prepare for more of your love lessons? I need to know because I’m getting a little sleepy watching your crew’s feigned smiles tailored to complement your shallow jokes. Anyway, it looks like you know a lot more about Urf’s love habits than one should expect. After all, it is you who are the sailors here, not me. So, sailors, shell we get down to what we are all here for?” Damius spoke, dead silence staring him in the face along with a now very serious-looking drifter captain.

The silence lasted for a couple of seconds and the men of Damius’s party were so tense at this point that they appeared only to be waiting for the first drifter in the room to jump them. The drifter captain, slamming the table with his hand, delivers the verdict: “I like you boy. I really like you. You do have a pair of big ones; I have to hand it to you! Too bad your father doesn’t like you much, as I can hear. You’re more than welcome to join us if you ever wish to.”

- “You hear wrong about my father’s affections.”

- “He wouldn’t have sent you here if he liked you.”

- “Just the opposite – he likes me so much that he wants me to be the one to take the credit for settling the matters with the dangerous, wild drifters. That’s why he sent me to deliver this chest to you, captain.”

- “Rego, call me Rego. We’re not like you, Damius. It’s not enough to bribe one who calls himself a king but a whole pack of us. By the way, steerers is what we call those among us whom the others obey. One thing you must know about us: we generally don’t get very well with each other. Do you know through how much pain and sacrifice I had to go through just to convince all other steerers to join this endeavor of ours? And it is a one-time affair only! No, this chest doesn’t nearly settle it.”

- “Well Rego, if it is my life you want, it is yours for the taking, but it won’t get you much in return.”

- “So, what shall we do, young Damius?”

Meanwhile, Daors was growing impatient on the shore. - “Do you think he’s already dead by now, Thrax?”

- “No, my king. I doubt it. If he was dead, the drifters would have taken some action by now, either towards the shore or towards the open sea. I am convinced that Damius still breathes.”

Just as Thrax completed his thought, they saw Damius’s ship starting to move towards the shore. The drifters moved no further than where they were.

As the ship with king’s red flag docked, Damius was the first one to come off. Daors hasted towards him to ask him what he had bargained for, but Damius calmed him down and asked him to sit: “Speak up boy! I don’t have time for sitting! Are we to prepare for an attack? They do know that we will crush them if they come! We might lose half of our army and even the city for some time, but they will perish by the end of the day, I swear!”

- “They want another chest, just as full. They wanted half the fleet too, until I explained to them that we don’t have the fleet of Baan Senicore. They weren’t happy to hear that.”

- “Well, another chest is not going to be too much of a problem. So, what did it come down to when you explained that there’s no bounty?” Daors asked his son. Damius stopped and took a long look at Daors. - “I must leave with them, father.”

- “My boy, what are you saying?”

- “I will be your token of good will aboard the ship of Rego, one of the steerers, their leaders. I shall return when we take Nox. They will be the first ones to enter the city. If these conditions are to be met, they will return me safely to you. If not, they will execute me and they will raid every settlement on the shore with our flag flying from its masts.”

- “Why wouldn’t they take Tibor? ”

- “Oh, they would. They actually wanted to get him and to execute him for not complying with the plan and for undermining the deal. I talked them out of it and presented the solution.”

- “If they do as much as bump into you…”

- “Don’t worry, father. They are a rough bunch, but they won’t allow themselves to devaluate their most precious asset…that’s how they see it at least.”

- “When must you leave with them?”

- “Right away. I just came to present to you the terms we agreed and to ask for your consent. Of course, I must take over another chest.”

- “Yes, yes, the chest, ” Daors murmured, visibly distressed. - “When we should take Nox, no one will be allowed to loot it. We will wait for you; they have my word. I will send out an emissary before the battle starts. You shall meet him in Venegor.”

As soldiers brought another chest full of valuables, Damius gave a signal to two drifter men who accompanied him to take the chest aboard. “Well, father, this is it. You can rely on me not to stain the name. I will persevere and I know you will, too,” Damius spoke, extending his arm to his father. Daors firmly gripped his son’s arm, not saying a word. Watching Damius part, he just whispered “my boy, my fair boy…

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