Red Leaves and the Living Token - Book 1 - Part 1

by Benjamin David Burrell

Lord Valance stared through the thick glass separating him from a plain white room beyond. A hunched creature with thick folds of bare skin, long claws and long white fangs, raced back and forth from wall to wall, keeping its attention on Lord Valance through the glass.

  Without warning it leapt at the glass, snapping its teeth viciously. The impact reverberated through the room with a sickening boom. The creature crumpled into the glass from the force of the impact, its face and neck twisting and contorting. Then it fell to the floor.

  Lord Valence and his two companions jerked back.

  A doctor in a white lab coat stepped up behind the men. “Gentlemen.”

  Lord Valance turned, then smiled as he recognized the man. “Hello Doctor Brite.”

  The Doctor turned his attention to the creature. “From what we can tell, the damage is irreversible.”

  Valance turned back to the glass as well, stepping forward as the creature slowly climbed to its feet.

  “How many?” he asked.

  “This is the first Zo to completely lose his binding. Half a dozen more aren't far behind. We’ve recorded nearly a thousand that have begun to show signs,” the doctor answered.

  The twisted creature snarled at Valance and other healthy, fur covered Zoen men.

  “Why is it affecting the population so unevenly?” Valance asked.

  “The binding is a fascinating thing, really. The chemical components of Manea that we think create and maintain the bond are elusive. They seem to affect each person a little differently. As a result we believe some are simply more sensitive to the change in purity than others.”

  “I see.” Valance said with his arms folded.

  “Now that we’ve had enough time to track the data, we’ve compared the rise in ‘incidents’ with each incremental increase in dilution of the Manea supply. We think the current rate of sixty percent concentration has caused a big spike,” the doctor said.

  “Where would you feel more comfortable?” Valance asked.

  “At eighty percent the number of affected individuals was far less noticeable.”

  Lord Valance understood the Doctors concern. People today weren’t familiar with what it was like to become unbound. It had been hundreds of years since it was commonplace. Most had never seen it or know anyone who had seen it.

  “I think with anything lower than eighty percent purity you’re going to have enough people turn into this,” the Doctor pointed to the hairless beast, “that it’d cause a wide spread panic.”

  “Eighty percent dilution isn’t going to buy us much time,” Valance concluded, then turned to Lord Whiting. “Call the Clan Lords. We need to talk.”

  He glanced back at the doctor. “Thank you for your diligence. I’d appreciate your continued discretion.”

  “Of course,” the doctor said with a forced smile.

  -

  Lord Valance and his companions, Lord Whiting and Barnus, followed a house servant and an accompanying array of clan animals through a vast, dimly lit chamber. They tried to keep their distance from the animals.

  Domesticated under the strict control of clans or not, he still found the presence of large cats unnerving. And typically, large clan cats weren’t kept for cleaning or running messages. They had one purpose socially, and that was aligned with their strengths in nature. They were adept killers.

  There were at least three leopards and half a dozen male lions. Two panthers pushed up from behind. Valance brushed his palm against the back of one as she passed. Normally, it was unacceptable and potentially dangerous to touch the animals of others. It interrupted their communication patterns which could trigger a defensive attack. He felt the panther’s agitation immediately and worked quickly to sooth her mind. He needed to know what kind of instructions their greeting party had been given.

  The half second of contact as the panther passed was just enough to gather that they were merely precautionary. The cats weren’t going to attack unless he posed a threat. The High Clan Lord Mar wasn’t planning on murdering him. But why such drastic precaution? What did Mar think he’d come to do, rob him?

  The panther he touched snarled and lashed her large front paw at a golden furred lioness in front of her. The lioness turned, growled and clawed back.

  The house servant stopped. “Alexia, no!” he reprimanded the unruly panther. “Come.” He opened a large leather pouch hanging from his waist, pulled out a large piece of dried Manea and pushed it into her mouth. He placed his palm on the back of her head and held it firmly.

  After a moment, he turned to Valance. “My apologies,” he pushed through the pack of cats and continued down the chamber.

  The Clans had grown in power dramatically in recent years. That was apparent in how they treated their guests. Almost every merchant and skilled tradesmen had joined their respective clan. They now represented all the major economic groups of the society. His industry was the exception. There was no Clan associated with the production of Manea. He was sure High Clan Lord Mar was laboring diligently to change that.

  Mar had gradually consolidated a position of power out of a loose association of the several hundred Zo clans. They were now unified under his leadership in a single governing High Clan. Because the lower clans represented the employment of the majority of the population, the High Clan enjoyed as much, if not more, political power than the official Senate.

  The lower clans elected ten Clan Lords to join the High Clan leadership through what Mar claimed was a fully transparent democratic process. But Valance had never seen the elected Clan Lords disagree with Mar on anything significant.

  He turned his attention back to counting his footsteps. He liked to know how far he was from an exit at any given moment. Especially in the dark, surrounded by a pack of deadly animals.

  The chamber they crossed was impressive. Massive stone columns rose into the blackness above them, holding some sort of stone arched ceiling, he guessed. Either the room was too big for them to light adequately or they wanted their visitors to feel a bit uncomfortable. Probably a bit of both. He noted the red flags and other red decor displaying the crest of the High Clan. Other than those few bits of color, the hall was austere. No furniture, rugs or anything to indicate the hall’s use. No windows either, which made it slightly suspicious and more uncomfortable.

  He thought it remarkable that after so many years in dealing with the Lord Mar that he’d never actually been to his home. Mar had always come to him.

  They crossed the threshold into a brightly lit and comfortably furnished room. Here, the ceiling was clearly visible as well as a thin balcony that circled the room. A small scattering of men stood watch behind the balcony railing. In the far corner Mar reclined against an impressive array of over sized, multi colored pillows. His curly blond fur puffed out of the ends of a purple evening robe. He held a pipe in one hand and a book in the other. A confusing message, Valance thought. Apparently, his visit didn’t warrant enough attention for the man put on clothes. And yet enough attention make sure Valance was aware of his security.

  The servant crossed the room in front of them to announce their arrival. The High Clan Lord didn’t respond in the slightest. His pipe popped into his mouth for a suck while his gaze remained fixed on his book.

  “Have a seat,” he muttered.

  Valance gritted his teeth. “Where are the other Clan Lords?”

  Mar dropped his book and looked up. “I’ll hear what you have to say. But I can’t compel anyone else to listen.”

  That was a lie of course. If Mar had requested, the other Clan Lords were indeed compelled to attend. Mar was obviously not as sympathetic to him as he’d hoped. He thought the disturbing evidences that he had sent to Mar via Clan Lord Ranth would have persuaded him of the seriousness of the situation. Instead, Mar greeted him as though he’d come asking for money. There must be some sort of political maneuvering behind this. Political maneuvering was the exact thing he had hoped to avoid.

  “Clan Lord Ranth presented you the rep
ort from my orchards, I hope,” Valance asked.

  “I’ve read the report, yes.”

  “And the medical review of the incident at the hospital?”

  “Of course,” he said turning back to his book.

  Valance stared at him with a look of consternation. He was not used to being treated in this way. In fact, he didn’t think he’d been treated with such disrespect since he was a child.

  “You'll forgive me Clan Lord, but you seem a little more at ease about this than I anticipated.”

  “At ease? You insult me. I am fully aware and alarmed by this turn of events. What would you like me to do? Throw myself to the floor while I scream and cry and beg for your help? Is that what you came here for, to see me make a mockery of myself?”

  Valance smiled. The Clan Lord showed his intentions. They were not here to talk about how to deal with the crisis. They were here to jockey for position.

  “Let me ask you this, my good and kind Lord Valance. How long have you been aware of this developing shortage? And why have you chosen today as the day to make us aware of it?”

  “I assure you, we have not delayed in bringing this to your attention.”

  “Haven’t you? These are your orchards. This crisis has developed under your direct supervision. If you are only now aware of it, then I beg your pardon, but you’re a bigger fool than I supposed.”

  Lord Barnus pushed aside his robe to reveal the hilt of his sword. He grasped it firmly. Valance shot him a glance. Barnus relaxed his grip.

  “What is this?” Mar jumped to his feet. “You come into my house bearing weapons?”

  The men watching from the balcony drew and aimed their crossbows.

  “I apologize for my overly zealous companions. I must travel with protection at all times as I’m sure you can understand.”

  Mar stepped towards Valance, pushing his large protruding belly into Valance’s thin waist.

  “This problem is a reflection of what you’ve become Lord Valance! Your own incompetence has allowed this to happen. And now you come here expecting us to shoulder the burden of consequence? You want us to help you fix this. Yet, while you’ve sat in your soft palace high above the people, forgetting your duty to the those who put you in that palace, we’ve remained here on the ground without missing a day of work. No disruption of service. The mechanics of this city have remained in perfect order.”

  Valance stepped back.

  “I applaud you for your diligent, uninterrupted, service to this city. It’s this reason, in fact, that we’ve come to you first. We’ve prepared a mitigation plan to give us the time to grow the needed alternate supply without causing irreparable damage to this city and every other city. You and your clans are essential to this plan. Not in an effort to shift burden to you but to offer you shelter from the storm that is most certainly to come. Because you provide essential services to this city, the purpose of our plan is to ensure your services are not interrupted.”

  Mar relaxed slightly, dropping his arms to his side and unclenching his fists.

  “I will hear your plan.”

  Lord Whiting handed Mar a thin booklet.

  “Here are the details. To put it simply, the supply shortage is projected to reach fifty percent within two years. The markets, left on their own, would starve the poor to feed the fearful rich. Everyone who could afford it would hoard to protect their future. Everyone else would… struggle. You and I both know that if those with money were the only ones left to survive then our society would not. As a group, those with wealth do not possess the full gamut of experience, practical knowledge and skill required to maintain a functioning society. The wealthy need the tradesmen and the clansmen.

  “The wealthy will ensure their own survival. We need not worry about them. The tradesmen and clansmen, however, need to be protected. We must have a rationing plan that evaluates the most vital parts of our economy and protects them. Our food and water systems, transportation, animal controllers, these are the things on which life depends. They must be protected from the whims of the market.”

  Mar took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, whistling through his nose. He stared pensively at the ground. “I’m inclined to agree with you.”

  “I’ve called a hearing before the Senate. Will you support me?” Valance asked.

  “In return for our support you will protect the interests of the clans in this rationing system?” Mar asked.

  “That is what I’m proposing.”

  “And it’ll be you who makes this judgments on who is to live and who is to die? You will say this Zo is vital, and this Zo is not?”

  “Not me personally. But I will oversee it.” Valance said.

  “And what if the Senate approves your plan but does not approve you as the manager of it? There is unprecedented risk in this rationing. Whomever we support in this action must be the sure candidate to win Senate appointment. If we tied our boats to the losing team, the potential repercussions would be unimaginable.

  “I will speak plainly to you Lord Valance because I feel we must be perfectly clear on this point. While I believe your plan has merit, I do not believe you are the man to bring it to the Senate. I do not believe you would win popular support. My friend, you are not the young man I once knew, and quite honestly, feared.

  “I suggest that you and I both align ourselves with another Senator, someone already strong enough to gain the necessary support. Allow that person to present the measure. I have a few names I could suggest.”

  -

  Outside Clan lord Mar’s estate, a servant opened the door to a silky black carriage as Lord Valance, Barnus and Whiting approached.

  Lord Whiting sat forward as Valance and Barnus settled into their seats. The Carriage driver closed the door. A moment later they felt the jolt of motion.

  "Three of the Clans will support any plan we put forward," Lord Whiting began.

  Lord Valance took in the information as he tapped his foot impatiently.

  "Three are middle ground, which means they won't go against their own. The other four are against us,” Lord Barnus finished.

  Valance sank further into the soft leather of his seat. "The Senate review will be difficult." He let out an exhausted breath.

  His mind pulled back to the conversation with the Clan Lord Mar. It was political maneuvering at its finest. The Clans would spare no opportunity to reposition themselves with greater advantage. They’d agree to his plan but not to his leadership?

  He’d been foolish to assume political aspirations would’ve been set aside in light of the potential crisis. Foolish, yes, but he felt it was more than that. This was the first real attempt to exercise his influence in a great while. The first time he’d had to ask anyone for anything. The asking was bad enough, the result of that asking was horrible.

  Twenty years ago, no man would have dared directly oppose him the way the High Clan Lord just had. Sure they might’ve talked in quiet corners, rallied numbers to mount an opposition, but they’d faced him as a group. This single man had called him weak to his face and simultaneously proved it at the same time.

  How did this happen?

  Going up against the Senate now seemed like a complete waste of time. Or worse, it could further expose his lack of influence. Those outside the inner circles of government may still respect and fear him. A public display of disrespect could destroy whatever standing he may have left. That would have a directly negative impact on his business dealings, and his ability to negotiated contracts and acquire more land at a favorable price.

  If his plans were to be effective, he’d need to start putting things into place now. There was no time for this political battle. Couldn’t Mar see he was trying to avoid catastrophe, the collapse of their society?

  For now, he’d have to risk calling a hearing with the Senate. He should at least have that much influence left. In the meantime, he’d have to start putting together a plan to circumvent their authority. There had to be a way to get around them.
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br />   "We've received," Lord Barnus interrupted, "information that might be of relevance."

  Valance continued tapping his foot, half-listening.

  "Someone came forward, "Barnus continued, "albeit, asking for money, but seemed to have very specific information about the Token. He knew exactly what it looked like."

  Valance looked up. His foot stopped.