by Jake Yaniak
Pelon, Janik, Naran and Oanor objected to this plan, but Agnoril was more than satisfied. 'Hersa can be rebuilt,' he said, 'But we cannot manage Hele in the west and Hersa in the east without splitting our strength in half. Nor can we leave one untouched while we focus our efforts on the other. We must take one and turn the other into a wasteland.'
Of the destruction of Hersa very little needs to be said. It was a bold move on the part of the Merkata, depending chiefly upon stealth and speed. This was the first battle in which Skatlor and Natham fought together. Though Skatlor still resented the beast for humiliating him, he was forced to grin with pride as he watched the Monster tear apart his enemies like they were cloth dolls. 'Even the noble blood of the Lady of the Merkata must bow in reverence to such power,' he whispered to himself.
That night the Merkata camped by the sea among the rocks on the southern side of the burning port. They kept fires only for warmth, for the city itself burned so bright that they could have read a letter or a scroll without so much as squinting their eyes. Natham, as was his custom, removed himself from the others and rested atop a small grass-covered hill to the west of the camp. He lay down and looked up into the heavens. There, between wisps and pillars of smoke he could see the wheeling heavens above him and the distant astral gods of whom his master so often spoke.
'It isn't really fair is it,' a voice said from beside him in the dark. Duri was laying next to him with his hands folded behind his head.
'You are still here?' Natham said, 'I would have thought you would have run back to Oblindin after the battle at Sinn.'
'I've grown used to war and death,' he said in a whisper. 'Sometimes I even wish I could be slain in battle, just to feel something again. I have no memory of feeling, you know.'
'I don't know,' Natham said.
'I think you understand more than you let on,' Duri insisted. 'What are you? You do not even know yourself do you? You have no idea where you came from. And neither do I. In that sense we are the same. For all I know, I have always been a 'ghost'. I cannot say with any certainty that I have ever really 'felt' anything.'
'And for all I know,' Natham responded, 'I have always been a beast.'
'That's what I mean,' Duri said, 'It isn't very fair. Why should I be stuck in this wretched country with all these ridiculous outcasts for so many ages while some seem to be able to just live their lives in quietness, and DIE in quietness too. Why do I have to skulk around in the shadows for all eternity?'
'You are asking for fair?'
'Yes,' Duri said confidently, 'I would like to see a little justice in this world.'
'Justice,' began Natham, 'Justice is not something anyone should ask for. When I was younger I too used to ask for justice. "Why am I like this?" I would ask. "It isn't fair!" I would insist. But Lord Whately would always warn me, "Do not ask for Justice unless you really mean to have it."'
'That's peculiar,' Duri laughed, 'The Lady of the Merkata talks about Justice as though it were the greatest of all blessings!'
'And so it seems to be, my master would say. Justice is, to most men, the highest of all purposes. To act justly, to do justice, to restore justice; these are all things the world pursues. But it pursues them blindly. When I demand to have justice done, why should I think that it would bring me to a better condition? Why do I not consider the possibility that it would only make all the world uglier for the sake of justice. Do I want the world to be fair? That would be to desire an uglier world, so as to make things even. How do I know that Justice would bring me glory, beauty and wealth? And not that Justice would destroy those things from the world entirely? It is only the man who thinks he is worthy of honor that can demand justice, and such a man is, as my master puts it, 'more often than not much more delusional than righteous.'
'I had never considered it like that,' Duri said. 'But still, it seems a shame to have to live all my life, if it is proper to call it a 'life', in this shadowed world of the unloving, while so many others have it better.'
'Who has it better?' Natham asked, turning his head to look at the boy. 'That is precisely the point I have been trying to make. Who are we to judge what we deserve and what others deserve. And who are we to judge whether we have been treated unfairly? Doesn't a farmer have to toil ere his crop is harvested? When the world is ended, Duri, when all has crumbled to dust and shadow, and when justice is still undone, then complain to me of injustice. But until that day we cannot but pretend to have an idea of whether life is unfair or not.'
Duri said nothing. He just sat silently looking into the stars until Natham closed his eyes to sleep. Then he rose and darted off into the darkness, southward toward Oblindin.
Lake Hele
Later that same month the full strength of the Merkata was gathered together to march against the Lake country of Hele. There were three fortified cities on the southern shore of Hele: Jilal, Niha and Olbae. These the Merkata lay siege to all at once on the second day of Morest. They left only enough troops to keep them shut in behind their walls, and to prevent them from coming to aid the northern cities of Hele, which were their true targets. If the cities of Polin and Legelz could be taken, then their southern allies would have no choice but to surrender. Three days after the siege against the southern cities began, the armies of Legelz and Polin met the Merkata along the eastern shore of Hele.
Again, speed was the prime concern for Agnoril and his men. They only had a few days to secure the cities before reinforcements would be sent from Harz. To delay this, Oanor and his brother Faruk were sent with two hundred skilled men to haunt the northern marches of Hele, lest any messengers be sent to Thasbond from the Lake Country. The combined might of Agnoril, Skatlor and Natham was too much for the armies of Legelz and Polin. They were driven to a full retreat within three hours. Messengers were sent to Thasbond, of course; and, of course, no messengers ever arrived there; Oanor was too skilled a huntsman to allow anyone to escape.
I mentioned how Natham entered his first battle absolutely unarmed. But now he was armed more richly than any king of men. He wore a deep blue cape on his shoulders, torn from the neck of a Harz Noble named Kiniz. He wore the sword of Lord Ritin's bodyguard strapped across his back. In his right hand he carried an enormous spear that he had taken while he fought in Hersa (It was a spear made to skewer whales and other sea monsters in the dark ocean waters far to the east of Vestron). He carried in his left hand the largest shield that he could find among the carcasses on the field of Sinn. On his head he wore the helmet of a Harz horse-lord and his arms and legs were guarded by chain armor fashioned from the best hauberks of the Harz warriors. He was an absolute terror to behold; and he was death to his foes on the battlefield.
The Merkata followed close behind the retreating warriors, fighting them right up to the very walls of Legelz. Here the sympathies of the men within the city were sorely put to the test. Should they open their gates to save their comrades, and thereby risk the city itself? Or should they leave their companions to their doom outside the city walls? In the end their sympathies got the best of them and they foolishly attempted to rescue the doomed warriors. They sent out fresh cavalry and soldiers to try and make a way of escape for the weary warriors outside. The Merkata pounced upon this opportunity at once. Agnoril, now mounted on a sandy colored horse such as only the Merkata breed, charged in with Natham and the lords of the Merkata close behind him. In their train came all the best of the Merkata warriors.
They forced their way into the city. Agnoril and his men set fire to the barracks of Legelz and slew all the Nobles and rulers of the city. Natham was challenged by the brave, though foolish commander of the city's guard; a man named Tyinos. He accepted the challenge, which, as my readers can very well imagine, did not last very long. The sight of Natham more than anything else drove the remaining warriors to throw down their weapons and beg Agnoril for mercy.
By nightfall all the warriors of the city were either slain or in bonds.
That night, on the borderlan
ds, Oanor's skill was put to the test. But in the end he managed to slay every soul that attempted to pass between the Lake Country and the Mountain of Fire. They would still have another day or two before any challenge arrived from Thasbond.
The next morning, Agnoril and the princes gathered together in council along with the monster Natham.
'Polin,' Agnoril started, 'yet remains to be dealt with. And until it is taken we cannot hope to withstand the armies of Thasbond, even with the might of Natham on our side. For the moment the armies of Fhuhar, Nolfu and Esfu descend upon us, Polin will undoubtedly unleash its strength. The southern cities will be ours the moment their northern allies are taken, but until then we must keep them under siege. What shall we do, my friends and brothers? I think we must lay siege to Polin this very night, and burn her to the ground if she resists us for more than two days. We cannot long withstand the armies of Thasbond without dealing with the threat of Polin.'
'We ought to have foreseen this,' Janik murmured. 'Too much faith have we placed in this Monster. We should have taken our time and gone step by step, taking only what we have the strength to defend.'
'You speak like a fool, Janik,' Agnoril snapped. 'Natham has not led us astray, nor has he disappointed us in any way. We did foresee this circumstance. But what is to be done about it we have not yet decided. But it was decided, and decided in fact by your mother the Queen Malia, that this course of action was the best. Now, what of Polin? What do you suggest we do?'
'I am neither a Monster nor a Strategist. And neither our strategist nor our monster are Merkata. I haven't the slightest idea what we can do!' he crossed his arms and shook his head as he spoke. 'It seems to me that our beast has led us into a trap.'
'A trap?' laughed Naran. 'Janik, we have slain more Harz and Vestri in these past few years than ever we have managed in all the ages of Vestron combined. This is not due to some new power among the Merkata, but rather to the power of Natham and the wisdom of Whately. You speak like a fool, brother. We have not yet cause to doubt these two.'
'Then let us hear the Monster's plan,' Janik scoffed.
Natham, who had been silent until this moment, rose from his chair and spoke. 'We are not going to touch Polin,' Natham said coolly. 'It would take too long to lay siege to the city, and they will not make the mistake of Legelz by opening their gates for us.'
Janik burst out in nervous laughter. 'Do you answer to Harz?'
Natham rose from his seat, towering above the others, his broad shoulders blocking the light from the window and casting the lords of the Merkata into shade.
'Silence Janik,' Agnoril commanded. 'No one ought to be charged with such treachery, not even in jest.'
'What are we to do then,' Janik whined, 'Are we to follow this creature off the edge of the earth itself?'
'If he has never steered us wrong,' Agnoril snapped, pounding his fist against the table,' then we will follow him to that end as well.'
'Let us hear what the Monster has to tell us,' Naran insisted.
'We will split our force into two,' Natham began, 'The lesser part will abandon the Lake country entirely and make their way to the eastern lands, to the very gates of Meldomnon, or as close as they can manage. It is in the east that our strength is surest.'
'Then we are to abandon all that we have just fought and bled for?' Janik asked incredulously.
'No,' Natham replied, 'For what we have accomplished here cannot be undone by our departure. The strength of Legelz is shattered, and ere we depart we will make its powerlessness complete. Tear down the walls and shatter the gates!'
At this command, Agnoril nodded to Naran, who immediately undertook this responsibility. Natham continued, 'I give to the Merkata two things: A future and a hope. Those who go to the east will retain all that we have gained through conquest in these past few years. They will be the future, regardless of the outcome of this campaign. But you also have hope. A chance to strike off the very head of the Harz Nobles and end their tyranny forever.'
At those words, every eye lit up and the heart within every man's breast leaped. Even Janik seemed to be sincerely interested.
'The greater part of the Merkata will make its way to the north, and march against Thasbond from the northwest.'
A look of shock and horror came across every man's face. Agnoril spoke first, 'Do you jest?' he said with a trembling voice, 'Do you mean to mock me, who has defended you thus far? How can we ever hope to accomplish such a fete?'
'Thasbond to this hour does not know that we are within a day's march of their gates,' Natham explained. 'The moment this news comes to their ears they will send their army to Polin and to Legelz. We will not be here to meet their army - we will, in fact, be behind them. The Harz, for all their daring, have never fully explored the hidden passes of the Mountain of Fire. There are places - noxious hellish caves that they fear to even think about. We will enter their city through those passes and come into their stronghold through the caves. By the time the Harz army realizes that we are no longer in Hele, and all their Lake country is empty of enemies, the sons of Merkata will have their swords to the throats of their women and children. Then we will see how fierce the dread Harz Nobles truly are. Will they besiege their own homeland and burn their own houses to the ground?'
Agnoril's face was white as a ghost's. 'How many ages have the Merkata walked this earth? And we have heard naught of these caves and passes! Tell me, Natham,' he said somberly, 'On what authority do you speak concerning these caves? What makes you believe such an endeavor is even possible?'
Natham sighed and then slowly explained, 'What reason have I to believe that it is the Harz who hold my master captive and not the Merkata? What could possibly lead me to believe that any such city as Harz exists. On what grounds can I ascertain the validity of your Queen's claim to be its rightful ruler? All of these things are founded upon the same foundation: The words of men. It is on no worse a foundation that this strategy is laid.'
In fact, the strategy belonged entirely to Duri. The night after the fall of Legelz, he came to Natham with such an excitement that he could barely speak. When he did speak, his words came out so fast that they nearly overtook themselves and began new sentences before the original sentences had come to their point.
Eventually, however, he was able to calm down long enough to explain where he had been and what he had seen.
'I walked through darkened paths, where mortals fear to tread,' he began, 'and I have seen the future of the Merkata.'
'What do you mean?' Natham said curiously.
'For years uncountable I have watched these pathetic creatures fight their hopeless war against the Harz invaders. Never in all that time has there been any hope of victory. There has only been their own foolhardy fanaticism. But you and your master have altered things. Somehow, the stars seem to shine differently upon the Merkata. If ever there was and if ever there will be hope for the Merkata, then it must be now, during this very campaign.'
'What do you propose?'
'There are secret paths in the Mountain of Fire. Some of them are ancient, some of them have been blocked up over the years. But there are others that are new, and some that have not yet been discovered by the men of Thasbond. The path is treacherous, but passible. The air is noxious, but breathable. The battle will be difficult, but it is winnable. The hordes of Thasbond will be emptied in a few days time to come to the rescue of Polin. The Merkata can strike Thasbond from the northwest, through the tunnels of fire and death.'
Natham was quiet for some time as he considered this, staring thoughtfully at the maps and charts of Thasbond he had been given. At length he turned again and spoke loudly and piercingly, 'Tell me little sprite,' he demanded, 'Are you certain about these paths?'
'I have walked them myself,' Duri said in a sincere voice, 'There is a way into Thasbond from the North, and I will lead you and the Merkata there myself.'
'Why should I trust you,' Natham asked.
'Why shouldn't you?' Duri retor
ted. 'Why should I mislead the Merkata with whom I have endured so many long years.
'What have you to gain from helping them?'
'What have I to lose? Besides, I have grown quite weary of their failure. Why would I contribute to my own boredom by making them fall?'
'You spirits are notoriously inconsiderate of the value of human lives. How can I be sure that this is no trick for your own amusement?'
Duri smiled, 'Value of human lives? You mortals are overly considerate of them. Besides, I have told you already that I find you and your master to be absolutely fascinating creatures. If I act for my own mere pleasure, then I would preserve you two alive for as long as I possibly can. I am very interested in seeing just how much you can accomplish.'
Natham was silent for some time. Finally he spoke, 'Very well, Duri. We will take your advice. You have watched these lands longer than any other, save the Lady Malia herself. You carry the fate of the Merkata in your little fist. Do not abuse this power, for there are ways in which the mortal can smite the immortal.'
At those words Duri's eyes rolled to gaze upon the lump on Natham's shoulder. He shook his head. 'You will not regret putting your trust in me.'
The God of the Woods
Duri fled from Legelz with the speed of a shooting star. He made his way north along the Poison River until he struck a broad westward road. This he followed under the open moonlight without fear, for no living eyes could behold him and no mortal foe could harm him.
The land to the west of the Mountain of Fire was considered blessed. The rich soil grew vegetables and grain in abundance. Farmland stretched out farther than the eyes could see. Endless fields of grain, delectable gardens and orchards uncountable alike grew right up to the road itself. But none of this was discernible to Duri as he passed. Those lands were yet bound by winter's death spell, and looked as pale and dead as the wastes of Rugna. But Duri would have passed passed these lands without a care in any season, for he had no memory of the taste of food nor of the sensation of hunger.
