by Guy Antibes
For the second time in a day, Bellia wondered about the moral aspects of war. Why did she blindly fight for Wansua? Was the King right? While she thought about it, Bellia didn’t know the King’s purpose. He wanted to unite Testia. But why?
A few windows gaped broken, dark and empty as they marched. More bodies lay covered, but Bellia could sense anger and resentment coming from the people as steam would from an overworked horse in this cold weather; resentment so strong Bellia could almost taste it. Wolfborough wasn’t happy to be annexed to North Wansua, but the Piwati projected pure hate. She had no idea where the feelings came from, but it dampened her mood even more.
A great temple lay at the end of their march. It’s silvery dome shone in the errant rays of the sun that scratched bright splotches across the city as the clouds began to break up.
The lieutenant came up to Bellia’s side. “Women aren’t allowed inside, so the King’s Guard will set up along the steps leading up to the Temple and we will split into squads and patrol the Temple’s perimeter.”
“I don’t see a castle,” Bellia said as he looked for other tall buildings.
“Kokotan cities are run by clerics. The Temple is their castle. They have councils in each city to run things. The people still associate by tribes, back from when they were nomads. I suppose they never were able to get over the tribal alliances.” She shook her head and took off her helmet and rubbed her shaved head. “I don’t like fighting down here be they allied with the Piwatan or Roanokan.” The lieutenant put her helmet back on and adjusted the chin strap. “When we split up, I want your squad to patrol the rear. I’ve been told the Temple is clear of buildings on all four sides.” The lieutenant left her side, now that orders had been given.
The Temple loomed larger as they came closer. The walls stood unadorned. The building was a severe stone cube, save for the wide expanse of steps leading up to large iron double doors in the front. Two rows of small square windows, although Bellia thought they wouldn’t look so little close up, ran around the building towards the top edge. The dome, like half of an egg, thrust up from the center.
The plain architecture didn’t strike Bellia as religious. It looked more like a prison. She led her squad around towards the back. They passed a mandoor, presumably leading to the inside. The other squad had placed four women guarding the door. Further back, a huge spout, that was perhaps three feet in diameter, ran from the wall about eight feet high and fed into an open stone cistern. A polished spigot thrust out from the bottom of the cistern.
“Romo, take a look inside. Menna, give the woman a leg up. The cistern was six feet high. Romo clambered up, then quickly came back down.
“Blood. That spout brings blood from inside and it flows out here.”
They all looked down at the grating. Bellia could smell the sewer from where she stood. Chills went down Bellia’s spine. She just hoped it wasn’t human blood.
“Let’s move on. Romo, run back and tell the lieutenant. Then meet us in the back.”
When the women turned the corner, Kokotans milled around in the back of the Temple holding cups. Bellia saw another spout and cistern identical to the one on the side. She looked at the cleared area.
“Menna.” She waited for her friend. “They must have sacrifices in the Temple and drain the blood out here. Then the people have a chance to get a taste. Gives me the shakes.”
“Looks like it to me. There’s probably another just like these two on the other side. Do we need to warn anybody?”
“Maybe they slaughter cattle or horses.” Bellia was searching for answers none of her squad could give.
Menna made a face. “Let’s just assume they do. The nomads of Eustia are said to sacrifice animals to their god, Winna, in bad times, but no humans.”
A large door was cut into the stone in the back of the building. Bellia tried it, but found it locked from the inside. “We will all guard this door.”
Bellia looked at the milling crowds. She continued to sense the antagonism she felt at the city gate. “Be ready to form a shield wall from the cistern to this door. It will give us only two sides to defend.”
Romo returned. “Menna, give Romo a lift and let’s check out this one,” Bellia said.
“Sir!” Romo yelled. “A body.”
“Bring it out.”
Romo climbed up and over the cistern. Another soldier was lifted up by Menna to help bring the body out of the spout.
The men circled the dead man. “One of ours,” Romo said. She used her foot to turn the man over. His throat was slit, but there was no blood on the man’s clothes. “There’s no blood at the bottom of the thing. He might have been pushed out of the spout or just tossed in from here.”
“He couldn’t have come out of that!” Bellia said, shocked at her glimpse into a wicked aspect of Kokotan culture.
Romo shook her head. “I think he did.”
Looking up at the wall, Bellia said, “That could have been you, Romo. Be on the alert. I’m not sure this is as easy as the surrender of Wolfborough.”
The locals dispersed after the body was pulled from the cistern.
“Make a carrier for the body.”
Nothing happened for the next half hour. The lieutenant walked around the corner of the building. “Where did you find him?”
“In the cistern,” Bellia said.
“The King’s about ready to go. From what I can tell he’s none too pleased.” The lieutenant looked at the grounds. “I don’t like the looks of this. Be ready for anything. We need to protect the King.”
Bellia formed the squad up and caught up to the women on the other side of the Temple. Just as she thought, another of those damned spouts decorated the third side.
The women formed up on either side of the steps. The Royal party’s horses pranced nervously as the King descended from the Temple. Instead of the smiles of victory, Bellia saw furrowed brows of frustration.
No one spoke as the King and his men mounted and made the ride through the city. Bellia could again feel the antagonism mount in the city as they moved forward. City dwellers still looked upon the King’s contingent with contempt.
As soon as the King entered the camp, Bellia heard General Bowston’s order to withdraw all men from the city.
Menna and Bellia looked at each other.
“Set up the Council tent.” Bowston commanded as he rode off with the King.
~
The Council tent ended up being the same tent that the King used for the Bellia’s feast.
The high officers of all three armies met in the tent three days later. The King’s Swords lined the walls, weapons drawn.
“At least we’ll know what’s going on,” Menna whispered as they filed in and took their places.
“We can save many lives on both sides. The sorcerers of Piwata have agreed to end hostilities and pledge fealty if we attack Roanoka, the big Kokota city to the east, closer to the Spine Mountains.
“With our three armies, we can certainly prevail, but it comes at a price.”
“Why should we pay a price? We were victorious, your majesty,” an officer said.
“Victorious because once we broke through the gates, the sorcerers didn’t use their magic and quickly surrendered. Even so, men were lost.”
“But surely, that’s what the Duke of South Wansua did, sire.”
“No. This is different. I have had to make a grave concession. I must have the counsel of a Kokotan sorcerer in order to proceed.”
For a king that eschewed all magic, the Kokotans must have made a very convincing point. Bellia couldn’t understand the change. She thought the settlement seemed to turn the Wansuan army into an army of mercenaries for the Piwatans.
The officers all cried out at once. It seemed they agreed with Bellia’s view.
“Stop.” The King held up his hands. “I won’t throw lives away needlessly. You know my vision of a united Testia, where men can live freely without worrying about the whims of their rulers. We ne
ed to learn to live with the Kokotans. They will be part of our Testian community.”
Bellia saw grumbles in the council. No wonder the staff appeared frustrated as they walked out of the Temple.
“How can we deal with these blood drinkers?” an officer asked.
“Silence!” the King said. “We will not talk about our allies that way. They have their own ways to worship their gods.”
“But they sacrifice humans; the old, the defective—babies, even. At least one of our own soldiers.”
The King glared the man down. “Do you swear fealty to me?” All of the officers bowed their heads to a man and placed their hands over their hearts. “That’s better. We have a job to do. Without the guidance of one of their wizards, our work in Kokota will come to naught.”
The King raised his hand. A short man wearing a black cylindrical hat that extended up into a cube, walked in. His brilliant red silken robes, trimmed with black symbols, clashed with his pale skin and blond beard.
“I’d like to introduce you to our new council member. This is a priest of the Kokota. His name is Shibito. Introduce yourself and sit here by my side.”
Bellia started at the offer, that seat was once hers for one brief evening just months ago. Except the King never invited Bellia back. This man, this sorcerer, as the Kokotans called their wizards, would constantly cling to the King’s side.
“Welcome to my land,” Shibito said. His voice was high and grating to Bellia. “I have lived my life on the harsh plains of Kokota and elsewhere. My brothers in Roanoka have plunged themselves into darkness and require redemption. Your arrival is propitious as we will be able to fight them through you and redeem their lost souls. I am familiar with advising kings. I have recently returned from Eustia, where I did so and will return after all of this unpleasantness.”
The sorcerer stopped. It seemed that the man sought drama.
“My magic will protect you from their magic. All will be well when the Roanokan’s have returned into the Kokotan fold.” Shibito raised his hands. The silken robes slipped down to his elbows. Bellia noticed a tattoo on his inside wrist. Four black joined circles. The same tattoo adorned Astun, except the quartermaster’s circles were red.
Bellia felt light-headed at the revelation. A gang tattoo, yet here Shibito stood claiming to have lived all his life among his people. Was Astun a Kokotan magician? He had the red hair of a Kokotan. Thoughts whirled in her head.
She felt Menna push her; it was time to file out. The council was over. The officers sat and stood in small groups. The King and Shibito talked with the Generals.
Bellia saw Shibito surreptitiously put his hand on the handle of the King’s short sword. The man’s eyes widened. He looked around the room. Bellia shrank back as the man looked at the helmets of his squad and then at the short sword on her waist as her unit filed out.
Shibito locked eyes on Bellia. It was as if Bellia looked into a glacier, the eyes viewed her with a coldness she didn’t feel possible. She turned her gaze away from Shibito and followed Menna’s back out of the tent. He must have been able to detect the magic embedded in her weapons and the helmets.
Bellia couldn’t stop her heart from beating and her body from sweating as she hurried the squad back to their courtyard. She went into her tent, frantic. Now she was exposed to another wizard. No one could know her story. She only trusted Uddo to keep his word. Astun knew enough to bring her to Shibito’s attention. What kind of game did the quartermaster play?
The Kokotan wizard’s stare still flared in her mind. No friendship in those eyes. No concern. All Bellia saw was emptiness. She couldn’t sleep. Astun was a friend, she thought. Now she didn’t know. Bellia felt adrift and alone in the camp of thousands of men and women, when just before she was one of thousands, now she felt she was one of one.
The light rain had returned and Bellia donned her oilcloth coat.
Menna stood by the courtyard fire warming her hands. “If you’re looking for Romo, she cleans the jakes.” Menna smiled and Bellia could catch a glimmer of the woman’s old twinkle. “In a minute I think I will saunter over there and add to her work.” Menna laughed, but Bellia couldn’t even scare up a smile.
“Menna. Something is not right. That magician scares me. If something happens, if we are somehow defeated and scattered, you can find me at the Temple of the Blind God in Tuathua, if I’m still alive.”
“What’s this? You’re not going to desert.” Menna furrowed her brow.
“All I know is something isn’t right about any of this.”
“I’ll agree with you there. The way that wizard shook us down with his eyes when we left. It sent shivers all through me.”
“Then you know what I mean. I’m going back to the quartermaster area. I need to talk to Astun about making some replacement oilcloth coats.”
“Seems like something that could wait for tomorrow.”
“No. I’ll do it now while I remember. If I’m not back tonight, make sure the women are all tucked into their cribs.” Bellia managed a smile she didn’t feel and squeezed her shoulder.
She quickly found Astun in his tent.
“Astun, I need to talk to you.”
“You sure do.” Astun said from his tent. He emerged wearing a black oilcloth coat that looked much like her’s. “I heard Shibito showed off his tattoos tonight. I’m sure he did it on purpose so I’d know he’s here.” Astun spoke with regret in his voice.
“I see you know already. Why did you lie to me?”
“For the same reason you lied to me, Bellia. I know you’re a powerful wizardess.”
“I’m not powerful. I know the basic codes my father and mother taught me.”
“You couldn’t fool me.” Astun sneered. “What I don’t know is what kind of game you’re playing. Whom do you work for?”
“No one.” Bellia’s fears were realized. “I’m on my own. I told you the truth that I wanted to get away. I seek anonymity, nothing else.”
Astun snorted. “For what it’s worth, I’m a Roanokan. We’ve been following the King ever since we realized he would actually move to create a Testian Empire. We can’t allow that to happen. We will not bend a knee to any monarch who allies with Piwata.”
“He believes in the goodness of man and wants all to live in freedom and peace.”
“His freedom and peace, not ours. I predict that once I give him the freedom he deserves, Shibito will destroy your army. The Piwati and Roanokans are vicious enemies. Neither side wants to see King Rollack succeed. But I will protect you.”
Bellia was speechless. Astun had just told her that he intended to assassinate the king and then the Piwati would destroy the army. She touched the hilt of her sword.
Astun punched out a code with his hands, freezing Bellia. She struggled to move any muscle, but couldn’t.
“I do believe you tell the truth after all,” he said. “No one would be so ignorant of what she does, unless she was totally innocent. Remember this, my friendship was genuine at all times and I regret ending it right here, right now. Beware of the Piwati, especially Shibito.” Astun raised his hands and punched another spell.
Bellia knew no defense to his spells and felt herself fade into nothingness.
~~~
Chapter Twelve
Assassination & Flight
~
A wicked stench assailed Bellia’s sense of smell. She woke, but realized that she wasn’t in her own tent.
Her head hurt when she moved, but she crawled out of an unscathed tent to a scene of carnage and destruction. The remains of the tents around her were still smoking in the cold morning rain. A few wandered about, as dazed as she felt. Bellia put her hand to her head to steady herself. She made her way forward. Most of the army lay dead. Sightless eyes and twisted limbs on smoldering bodies were the norm. Those who had few who had survived wandered aimlessly about or were bent over looting the bodies.
What happened? How long had she been out? Astun had cast the spell. Her frien
d, or was he a friend? When she arrived at her courtyard, all of her squad were dead.
She looked around for Menna or Romo’s bodies. They were missing. Her tent was burned to the ground. If she spent the night with her squad, she would have joined her comrades. There was nothing Bellia could do but shuffle onward. The lieutenant’s body was half out of her collapsed tent.
“You there!” Bellia called out to a soldier in the act of looting. The man made to run, but Bellia caught him and tackled him to the earth.
“What happened? I was out of camp.” Bellia lied, but needed an easy explanation.
“The King was assassinated. A redheaded quartermaster did it. Did it with a short sword that looked just like the King’s”
Bellia put her hand over the empty scabbard. Astun, she thought.
“But what of all this?”
“There was a scuffle after the King died. Something between that Piwati devil-wizard and the King’s officers. He escaped and it looks like wizards aligned with the assassin destroyed the camp. Flames and lightning hit everywhere. I was coming back from the city when it happened. Awful, just awful. Those who survived just scattered and ran. I guess the Second and Third Armies weren’t destroyed as much as the First and will head back north. That’s where I’m going. I won’t stay another minute around these blood drinkers. A woman from town took me in and told me all about their perverse religion, thinking I’d join them. Gave me the shivers. I’m just rooting around now for enough money to get me north. You’d better do the same.
Bellia hoped Menna got away. It was time for her to do the same, now that she was sure the wizard recognized her as the maker of magical swords. The Temple of the Blind God was much closer than Greenwell. She saw the pale disk of the sun punching through the low clouds and dismal columns of smoke, still rising from the destroyed encampment. No one would recognize the uniform, overed by an oilcloth coat. Her helmet was amidst the remains of her tent. It would stay there. She still had money, the token and her Pock sword on her person. That would have to do.
