"Only Borunda," answered Prince Antion. "They are still a threat in my eyes. I think King Rihad has the right approach by isolating Vineland from Borunda, but it is not a permanent answer to the problem. The Odessians will not want to station an army permanently in the east."
"I agree," nodded Prince Umal. "My father has taken the necessary steps to forestall an immediate repeat of King Zinan's coup, but we need a better answer. I think there should be a search to find an heir to the Vinelander throne, and that heir should meet with all of the neighboring countries and agree to a peaceful coexistence."
"In the meantime," interjected Balitardi, "We need to appoint a regent that we will all have confidence in."
"Why not form a council?" suggested Talot. "Let each of the three neighboring countries appoint one person. Those three individuals will act as a regency council to administer the kingdom until the heir is found. It will eliminate the threat of assassination and coup, and will also be a constant reminder to the Vinelanders that their neighbors will not stand for aggression."
"Perhaps such a council will also cause the three nations to begin working closely together," added Jared as he stared at Balitardi. "It is time for all nations to become full partners in the second Great Peace that will soon begin."
"We did act properly in the end," Balitardi responded.
"Admirably so," smiled Jared, "but I think Lom has more to offer its neighbors than it has been willing to share so far. While we may be experiencing a temporary break in the Great Peace, generations have proved that the concept works. Forget the old wars and embrace your brothers outside the jungle. You have shown that it can be done."
"I agree," King Justin nodded vigorously. "I am thrilled that the Lomites were willing to aid Caroom. I would like to repay you in some way, but I realize that I do not even know my neighbors well. We must talk before you leave Caxon about ways that we can bring our two peoples closer."
"Then we shall talk before I leave," agreed the Lomite councilor, "but I am anxious to send my people home before the river thaws. It must be only days away now."
"I, too, am anxious to take my warriors home," admitted Kanior. "We are the closest country to Borunda, and our warriors need to be ready for King Zinan's next move."
"I think we should travel with you," Prince Umal said to his countryman as he glanced at Prince Antion for confirmation.
"Yes," nodded the Arin prince. "We are heading to the south and passing through Odessia would be a welcome change of climate."
"Let me throw a feast this night," suggested King Justin. "We have stockpiled tons of food in case of a siege, and we must get rid of it somehow. In the morning your armies can get a fresh start with full bellies. Is that acceptable?"
"What of the Vinelanders?" asked Jared. "Are they to sit outside and listen to the cheering of the victors while we wine and dine inside?"
The room fell awkwardly silent and everyone stared at Jared. It was not that the victors held any animosity towards the Vinelander soldiers, but that there was not a good solution to the problem.
"I have an idea," Winona meekly broke the silence. "Someone must inform the Vinelanders of what is to be done with them. Would it not make sense to include them in the festival? Could they not have the truth explained to them?"
"The truth?" asked Sandar. "Explain that they were defeated? I think they already know that."
"Not that truth," smiled Winona. "They have just been freed from Borundan rule. Inform them that their three great neighbors will form a council so that no false king will force them into war again. Tell them that this council will search for the true heir to the throne."
"I like it," smiled Prince Antion. "It is perfectly true, yet it gives them cause to celebrate. Let them feel as if they truly won today, and they did it with our help. It is the truth."
"It is indeed," Balitardi nodded in amazement.
"What of General Vanatay?" asked Monte. "He was caught trying to flee back to Laborg. Surely, he will not be allowed to celebrate?"
"Hang him as a traitor and the puppet of King Zinan," scowled Kanior. "Let him be the focal point of the Vinelanders' hatred. He was the one who drove those men northward to pillage and plunder."
"It shall be done," the king said solemnly. "Let me go and make preparations for tonight. I will have chambers made available for each of you to rest in."
The foreigners broke into small groups after the king's departure. Talot and Balitardi spoke softly in one corner of the room, while Kanior quietly brought Prince Umal up to date on the goings on in Odessia. Sandar, Monte, and Prince Derri were laughing and making plans to bathe, but Jared stood alone staring out the window. Prince Antion had been congratulating Winona on her imaginative solution to the problem of the Vinelanders when he noticed Jared. He politely excused himself and walked softly up behind Jared.
"What is bothering you, Jared?" asked the Arin prince. "Was it the creation of the image in the sky? There was nothing impure about that and it saved many lives today."
"No," Jared shook his head. "I did not lie to anyone. I asked them to put down their arms and surrender. I am pleased that I was able to affect them all in a positive manner."
"How did you learn to do such a thing?" asked Winona who had followed the Arin prince to the window.
"From Orro," answered Jared. "I do not think he meant for me to learn it, but it is how he projects the image of his head into the fountain in Harangar."
"The head is an image?" frowned Winona. "How can that be? Where is the real Orro?"
"I do not know," answered Jared. "Perhaps he no longer has a body at all. That was never clear to me."
Winona stared at the back of Jared's head in shock. Her eyes grew wide, but she remained mute.
"Then what is bothering you?" probed Prince Antion.
"It is my brother," frowned Jared. "He is moving closer to us."
"Is he returning to Laborg?" inquired the Arin prince.
"I do not think so," Jared shook his head. "He is moving northward, but far to the west of us. His current path will not bring him anywhere near Vineland."
"Point to him," instructed the Arin prince.
Jared pointed to the southwest, and Prince Antion turned and left the room. Several minutes later he returned and spread a map over the table. Everyone stopped talking and turned to see what was going on. The Arin prince gazed out the window one more time and then returned to the table. He drew his long two-handed sword and placed it on the map. Lining it up with the hills he saw in the distance, he called Jared to the table.
"Can you tell how far along this line he is?" asked Prince Antion.
"I would say about five day's ride," estimated Jared. "I can't be all that precise."
"A little north of Oran," commented Prince Derri. "What would he be doing up there?"
"Whatever he is doing," mused Prince Antion, "he is moving quickly to get it done. Two days ago he was considerably farther south. We were guessing that he might have been in Koar, and that is where we were heading."
"He cannot be moving with an army," noted Prince Umal. "Not only is he moving too quickly for that, his army would never get past Oran without my people knowing about it."
"If the Arin River is still frozen," interjected Sandar, "he could have bypassed Oran entirely by slipping into Arin."
"But not with an army," Prince Antion shook his head. "I think it is safe to say that King Zinan is traveling without his army."
"So the question is," posed Talot, "where is he heading, and why?"
"Maybe he was so sure of victory here that he is coming to celebrate and exert his influence over Caroom?" suggested Monte. "Perhaps he will even crown himself King of Caroom?"
"That is not the reception he will receive," Jared sighed. "We will not be accompanying your warriors to Odessia, Kanior. We are heading westward."
"Should my warriors escort you?" asked Kanior. "We could return to Odessia through Oran."
"I need no army for the task I have b
een given," Jared shook his head sadly. "Your people need to return home. While King Zinan is my problem, he still has powerful armies. I fear what they may be up to right now."
"You think this attack on Caxon was a diversion?" frowned Talot.
"Not a diversion," answered Prince Derri, "but not necessarily his only move either. Borunda has always maintained two armies, one for the east and one for the west. The defeated army outside this palace is neither of them. Asking where those other two armies are is a valid question to ask."
"Indeed," nodded Prince Antion. "I fear one of them must be poised to attack Anatar. King Zinan knows that Arin and Salacia will resist his advances. Perhaps he is seeking information on the status of the Salacian troops?"
"If he is," frowned Prince Derri, "he will find my father's armies just across the border. At least that is where King Justin's people have said that they were."
* * *
The sun was bright and the sound of cracking ice reverberated through the valley. King Zinan stood on the banks of the river not far from the bridge on the Caxon-Kyland Road. He smiled thinly as he watched large chunks of ice flow by on their journey to the sea. The spring melt had arrived on schedule, and it marked the beginning of the offensive in the west. The six Borundan soldiers accompanying the king peered across the river at the thick forests of Salacia.
"There are definitely Salacian soldiers in those woods," remarked one of the soldiers. "I am uncomfortable with the king so close to them. We should have brought more men."
The soldier had thought that King Zinan was out of earshot, but he was not. The king shook his head at the soldier's display of weakness.
"I fear no army," King Zinan said as he turned around and approached the six men. "Come with me."
The Borundan king mounted his horse and headed towards the Caxon-Kyland Road. The soldiers scurried to their horses and raced to catch up to the king. The king halted in the middle of the road not far from the entrance to the bridge. He dismounted and walked onto the bridge. He did not seek to go far on the bridge, but rather just far enough to ensure that he was seen by the Salacian soldiers on the other side. He halted and shouted loudly.
"I am King Zinan, ruler of the Land of the Nine Kingdoms. Come bow before me."
The Borundan soldiers looked at one another as if inquiring about the king's sanity, but none of them spoke. The king stood patiently for several minutes, but there was no response from the Salacian soldiers hiding in the forests.
"You have had your first opportunity to bow before me," shouted King Zinan. "Your next opportunity will be your last."
King Zinan turned around and walked off the bridge into Caroom. He turned again and stared at the bridge. For several moments the scene remained frozen. The king stared at the bridge, and the ice-clogged river flowed heavily underneath it. Six Borundan soldiers sat on their horses behind the king, and thousands of hidden Salacian soldiers peered out of the woods from across the river.
Suddenly the bridge exploded in a fountain of stone and wooden particles. Most of the debris fell into the swiftly moving river, but a large cloud of dust also rose skyward. Gasps of astonishment came from soldiers on both sides of the river, and King Zinan snickered at their reaction. He turned towards his own soldiers and mounted his horse.
"How many escorts did you think I required?" he asked the soldier who had been overheard.
The soldier cowered and lowered his eyes to the ground.
"It is time to ride," announced King Zinan jubilantly. "We have other things to attend to."
* * *
Paki was an old man, but he was not frail. Quite the opposite, he was a bear of a man hidden under the white hair of an elderly Odessian. While he could no longer endure extended hours in the saddle, he still occasionally taught young Odessian warriors the basics of horsemanship, and they were hard lessons that were never forgotten. Paki's main responsibilities now resided in the running of the city of Oran when the royal family was not in residence. He supervised the palace staff and detailed assignments to the officers of the Odessian army stationed in Oran. It was not an onerous task for an elderly man as Oran was a quiet city in the winter. The royal family and the army normally retreated to the desert sands around Natura until the winter winds died down.
The city of Oran continued to flourish in the absence of the royal family, as it was Odessia's center of trade. It was in Oran that merchants brought their wares to sell and where visitors to the country got their first taste of Odessia. Few foreigners ever ventured beyond the walls of the city unless they were just traveling through the country on the way to somewhere else. For the most part, Oran was an exotic city with a very subdued atmosphere.
So it was with great interest that Paki stood at the window in the royal palace in Oran and stared out at the commotion in the marketplace. People were running in every direction and shouts rose up from the city, although Paki could not distinguish the words being shouted. The old man waited impatiently for word to reach him regarding the turmoil.
A sharp knock on the door behind Paki was immediately followed by the sound of the door opening and a pair of booted feet hurrying into the room. Paki calmly turned around and faced the messenger with an air of indifference.
"There is a Borundan army marching northward out of Capri," the messenger reported nervously. "They were spotted yesterday by a shepherd who sent his two sons to warn the city."
"How large is the army?" Paki asked calmly, "and when will they arrive?"
"I don't know," the messenger replied. "The boys said there were thousands upon thousands of them. They did not stay to count them. They rode day and night to get here."
"Bring me the boys," commanded Paki.
"They are just young boys," frowned the messenger. "They will not know more than they have already said."
"Bring me the boys," repeated Paki. "They are Odessians, and they are shepherds. They know how to count."
The messenger swallowed hard and nodded as he retreated from the room. Paki turned around and continued to stare out the window. A few minutes later he heard the boys being escorted into the room. Without turning around to greet them, he waved the boys to the window. The young shepherds dutifully crossed the room and stood alongside the most powerful man in Oran.
"Look out the window," instructed Paki. "Imagine that what you see are the rolling hills where your flocks graze. Tell me what part of it is covered with Borundan soldiers."
"Over half of it," the older boy immediately replied, "but there would be more beyond our sight. We saw more clearly as we rode over the large hill to get here. If their whole army were to be put in one place, I do not see enough room out your window for them to fit into."
"And how fast were they moving?" asked Paki. "Did they ride on horses, or did they walk?"
"Most of them are walking," answered the younger brother, "but there are hundreds on horses, too. They are not Odessian beauties."
"There are also many wagons," added the older brother, "but they are towards the end of the line."
Paki smiled and put his arms around the two boys. He hugged them firmly and then released them.
"You lads have done exceedingly well," Paki smiled at the boys. "I will see that each of you get to attend horse camp when your time comes. I want you to stay in the palace for now. I may need some help in dealing with things. Will you stay and help me?"
"We should return to our father," the younger boy shook his head.
"Not now," Paki smiled sympathetically. "Your country needs your help right here in Oran."
Paki knew that it was likely that their father had already been killed. The Borundans would not leave shepherds alive as they passed by. It was obvious to him that the older brother already realized the truth. The boy's eyes teared up and he turned around to hide it from his younger brother.
"Take these heroic Odessians and make them comfortable," Paki said to the messenger. "They are to have whatever they want."
As soon as the boys w
ere gone, Paki rang a bell on the desk. An officer immediately responded, and Paki ordered a meeting of all officers. Within a few minutes the room was packed with dozens of officers, most of them junior officers still undergoing training. The room was packed too tightly for anyone to sit down, but comfort was the last thing on Paki's mind at the moment. He turned away from the window to address the men.
"Within two days time, Oran will fall to the Borundans," Paki began. "The army that approaches us is much too large for us to mount any decent defense, although we will do the best we can. What we will not do is cause our civilians to suffer under Borundan boots. I want our civilians evacuated immediately. I want it done in a calm orderly manner, but I want it done without delay."
"Evacuate to where?" asked one of the officers. "The spring melt has already started. It will be impossible to get across the river into Arin, and the winter winds are still a threat if we try to go towards Natura."
"Our civilians are still Odessians," Paki declared. "They will brave the winter winds as Odessians have done for centuries. Children are to have the highest priority, followed by young women."
"And then the elderly?" asked and officer, confident that he already knew the answer.
"The elderly will be the last to leave," Paki said to a room of astonished men. "After the young women have been safely evacuated, I want the young men moved out next. That will include the majority of our warriors."
"You are going to sacrifice the elderly to the Borundans?" gasped one of the officers.
"The Borundans will kill every fighting age man in this city," explained Paki. "They will do so to infuriate King Rihad and make him attack before he is ready to. I will not allow that to happen. Those young men and women are the future of this country, and we will have to be strong to take back what is ours. Let the Borundans inherit a city of aged invalids. If they do harm to such a population, they will be ridiculed throughout the ages."
"Who is going to tell the old people that they are being abandoned?" scowled one of the officers.
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