by Hylton Smith
“You will not find Lupus in this territory, and you will risk your life by mention of his name. State your reason for requesting to speak with the chosen one.”
The scout leader selected his words carefully. “Khaled has a proposal which may be of great interest to your leader. It is not another simple contract he is considering – it is much more. We do you the honour of speaking to Lupus first. If what you hear is not to your liking then we will approach another.”
This seemed to be respectful enough to cause a huddle of the most decorated warriors. The same senior presence then announced, “Follow us.”
The scouts were not at all sure whether this was a trap, but they realised that there were more than enough of these Korellians to dispose of them at any time of their choosing. They complied.
When they emerged from thick forest on to an almost inaccessible ledge of rock, just below the tree line of a majestic mountain, they were asked to wait. The senior figure disappeared into a dwelling and then several minutes later, after a crowd of curious onlookers had assembled, the imposing figure of Lupus emerged with his Commander.
He had a disturbing presence. The ornate helmet was so large it created a virtual centre of gravity well above waist level, and the facial scars told of a life of violence and survival. The two most striking examples were carved across the bridge of his now grotesquely disfigured nose, or what was left of it. This in turn distorted his voice, and it was not easy to hear precisely what he said, but they need not have been concerned, he mostly spoke through his Commander.
“We will hear your offer now.”
The scout leader nervously replied, “It is only for the ears of Lupus and Khaled.” He deliberately emphasised the order of the two, implying total respect for the former. The Commander, Negrosa, wanted to know where his leader was expected to meet Khaled. There was no negotiation offered.
“It must be at the palace of Khaled.”
This sounded risky to Negrosa, but Lupus intervened impatiently, “Convey to Khaled that I want to hear what he has to offer, but it can be handled in the same way as his contracts – in a scroll, securely delivered by one of his trusted aides.”
The scout leader asserted that the only way for such a delicate discussion had already been explained.
“This is a matter of such importance that it cannot involve others. My instructions are to pledge on behalf of Khaled, that you will be totally safe, and Khaled, as you must know does not offer pledges lightly. Here is his invitation, with the said pledge and you surely recognise his seal.”
Lupus and Negrosa retired to the dwelling, and only the latter re-emerged. He was clearly unconvinced, but dare not say so, and was instructed to agree to the meeting. The proposed time was two days hence.
*
Meanwhile, Ventaninho, who had no experience of commanding anyone, let alone two hundred mean-faced troops, decided to pass this precarious task to Aquades, a time served, hard-headed battalion leader. This relaxed the men and allowed Ventaninho to concentrate on diplomacy. The camp of Berbus was near, and not too difficult to find. Straying into it unannounced was however another matter. Aquades waved the obligatory black flag with white circle, or Pax-Insignia, as it had come to be known. A delegate arrived at the edge of the camp, no doubt covered by invisible archers, and enquired as to the purpose of the column of fighting men. Ventaninho cut off the reflex response of Aquades.
“We bring an offer of friendship from our deity, Altocotl. There is much for you to gain by accepting his invitation to assist you with the establishment of a reliable food supply. We also bring his solemn undertaking of avoiding military conflict with the West Korellian tribes.”
The messenger reported this to another, who disappeared into the shadows. Upon his return he motioned for Ventaninho to accompany him.
“No,” said Aquades, “this is not wise; to venture into their domain alone is inviting trouble.”
Ventaninho reassured him that it would help Berbus to see that the offer was genuine. He proceeded to follow the second messenger and found that they had entered some kind of elaborate maze. They soon arrived at the entrance to a large tent of extremely opulent design. He was ushered inside and presented to Berbus. The craggy face in front of him bade him to sit. From his perch-like seat, he had to look up to Berbus, and he saw a very rotund frame. Silence prevailed until Berbus had completed his thorough visual checks of this person with the soft hands.
“You are not a soldier. You fight with words. Speak.”
Ventaninho articulated the principles of Altocotl’s offer, and stressed that if he declined, it wouldn’t offend the Machu chieftain.
“It is purely to explore how we can best live alongside one another. He feels this is important because we will not withdraw. We have travelled too many decades running away from the white death to turn back. Our esteemed leader is also willing to share our knowledge with the region’s tribes so that there can be gains of a mutual nature.”
The old man eyed him steadily without speaking. He then conferred with an advisor who was patently not born in this part of the world. The statement finally came.
“If we are to progress this offer I must be able to study your leader. A place of mutual satisfaction will be considered. That is all we will agree to for now.”
Ventaninho acknowledged the test of trust and assured Berbus he would return with the reply from Altocotl. When he re-joined Aquades there was visible relief on the faces of the entire contingent. They set off in search of Salamand.
