by Doug Kelly
He contributed generously to the education of the town’s children by offering a fair price for any of the ancient books of the Americans, and purchasing as many as he could. Those seeking knowledge had always wanted old American textbooks, no matter how tattered and torn they were. He gave the ancient books to Aniku, and the school’s library swelled with old texts.
Unlike Hauk, Aton preferred to remain solitary, and the desire to leave Tarply burdened him. He wanted to return home and extract vengeance against those who had conspired against him and his father. Encumbered with sullen emotions, he did not particularly want to make any new friends. The hill people, who had bonded themselves deeply to Aton, began to arrive in the region surrounding Tarply. He had all the friends that he needed.
With a network of amiable tribes establishing themselves in the territory, the threat of another nomad attack had greatly decreased, but he wanted the hill people to have better armaments, a more lethal spear, which was their weapon of choice. It was a design that he had already thought of during the days he had felt like remaining alone in his room inside his family’s ancestral house. Now, he was ready to replicate his design of an improved spear for his loyal subjects.
Aton possessed two critical things necessary for designing and creating an improved weapon for the hill people: leisure time and money. With plenty of currency in his possession, he could buy almost anything that he desired. His only burdens were the passion of his creative mind and bringing his idea for an improved spear to fruition, for mass production by the town’s blacksmiths. With plenty of free time on his hands, he commenced refining the design of a better weapon for the tribes.
Aton understood very well that the spear was the hill people’s defense of choice. Since they already used their long wooden spears as staffs to tend their herds of goats and flocks of sheep, it was a practical weapon. They always had at least one in their possession. If they could also use the long staffs to protect themselves, that would make carrying it convenient, because a single item would serve a dual purpose.
Other than intermittent trouble from small groups of cannibals, the only recent threat and truly legitimate hazard to the herding tribes was from the nomads, who sometimes used shields to defend themselves. Aton’s new spear design could incapacitate a handheld shield. Clansmen also carried shields into battle. Because he had convinced the tribes to migrate to the south, closer to clan villages, he wanted to use the new spears to defend his troops in any conflicts as they marched into a rival warlord’s domain, and from skirmishes that may arise from opportunistic clans who would like to attack Tarply at a time of weakness. Thinking of traveling to the south brought Olar Regalyon to his mind. Under the influence of Trahan and Lanzo Brill, the warlord might be persuaded by the evil father and son to expand his influence and increase both domain and wealth by conquering unaffiliated clans, like the village of Tarply. Aton knew it would happen; it was just a matter of time, but he did not know if it would occur under Olar’s rule or if the treasonous father and son would soon take control of Olar’s dominion, and after stealing the title of warlord, expand their control of clan territories with violent and aggressive warfare.
A large force of hill tribes, unconditionally loyal to Aton, could form a protective barrier against a warlord’s imperialistic desires and from the armed men hiding behind their shields pushing forward to advance the whim of a tyrant. If he could implement his improved design for a spear, the hill people would get an enhanced version of a weapon with which they were already familiar. Even if they were to get the metal enhancements integrated into their staffs, which would become lethal shield-destroying spears, to the casual observer, not much would appear different with the hill people. They would still appear as peaceful men tending to their animals, with staff in hand.
When he had initially conceived the idea of an improved spear design, Aton had wanted to use an enemy’s form of defense, the shield, as a liability. Many months ago, unknowingly at the time, he had designed an improved spear that was perfect for the hill tribes, and this village was the best place to make it, because he wanted to augment their wooden spears with metal foreshafts. A long time ago, when he had originally drawn the design for a modified spear, he had thought that he would just share the sketch with a warlord who would be grateful for his ideas, who would pay him handsomely and assume the burden of weapon production. Aton had never shared his clever ideas with anyone, and now that he was a leader of men, the problem of mass production encumbered him. Fortunately, Tarply had an abundance of skilled blacksmiths who could make it happen.
He lit several candles to light the inside of the dark cabin, removed a sheet of parchment from an expensive stack of paper, placed the sheet flat on the table, and put the tip of a goose-feather quill pen to it. The black ink flowed in smooth lines with every arc of his wrist and delicate movement of his fingertips. In his mind, he had already designed the improved spear, and now a schematic illustration of the enhanced weapon was on the paper in front of him. He would be able to show his sketch to any of the village’s skilled blacksmiths, and they would be able to create a working model, so he could test his design.
The metal foreshaft was essential to the function of the new spear. It would fit over and be attached to the style of wooden staff that the hill people presently used when tending to their flocks and herds. Their current spears were better suited as thrusting weapons, but with the addition of metal tips, the added mass, and change in position of the center of gravity, the metal spear tips would transform the thrusting weapons into something as suitable as an extremely lethal javelin, too.
In his design, the weapon had a hardened tip, shaped like a pyramid, but the foreshaft was made of softer metal. The softness of the shank would cause it to bend if it did not penetrate after direct impact against a hard shield, thus rendering the spear useless to the enemy who might throw it back, but even attenuated metal was stiff enough to pierce soft flesh if the spear went through the shield and into the enemy’s body.
Since the pyramidal spear tip was wider than the rest of the shank, once it penetrated a shield, it would create a hole larger than the rest of the stem, allowing the foreshaft to move through the shield with little resistance, stabbing the adversary. The length of the shank and its depth of penetration would also make it hard to pull out of a shield, even if it failed to bend. If the bearer of the shield was charging, and the improved spear penetrated it, the end of the long, heavy wooden shaft would firmly hit the ground, and stay there while the enemy’s moving body quickly thrust forward, impaling the tip completely through the shield, deep into its victim, abruptly stopping the charge. In the event of it penetrating a shield, but not causing injury, the shape of the tip made it very difficult to remove. With a spear impaling the shield, the enemy’s defense became impossible to maneuver due to the weight of the wooden shaft, and the shield bearer would very likely have to discard his shield, which would leave the enemy vulnerable at a critical moment.
Aton left the paper on the table and waited for the ink to dry. Still subconsciously holding the quill, he went outside and took a break from his obsessive thoughts of improved spear design while he watched a slowly moving horse proceed down the quiet side road near their cabin. As a grackle sang from behind their cottage, with its song echoing off the tall wooden barrier close to the log wall of their house, a vibrant red cardinal swooped down onto the dirt street and savagely pecked at an insect. It darted back into the air after consuming the meal, leaving a small billowing cloud of gray dust in its wake, hovering over the ground. The sight of the cardinal’s red feathers, the color of the feathers he had used to fletch his arrows, reminded Aton once again of what had happened at the warlord’s spring festival; the treacherous act of murder that Lanzo had committed and had blamed on Aton. His body tensed with anger, and he only realized that he still had the quill pen in his hand after he felt it crush in his grip. He angrily tossed away the crumpled goose feather.
While Aton had been outside
unsuccessfully trying to enjoy the sunshine and fresh air of their secluded location, he noticed Hauk turning the corner from the main road as he walked home. He had his arm around something. It appeared to be a large container of glazed earthenware. As he got closer, Aton could see Hauk dipping his fingers into the wide jar and licking them. It was a crock of honey; the sweet and sticky paste covered Hauk’s hand. He licked honey from his lips, pointed his tacky fingers down the street, and said, “A wagon train hauling coal just entered the gate. You should see all of the carts.”
This was a sure sign that the presence of the hill tribes was working. They were keeping the nomads away. The trade routes were open for business again. Aton knew that the village’s line of credit from Olar was exhausted, so the coal miners would need to be paid for their commodity, but Larn had confessed in confidence to Aton that the village’s treasury was still empty, so there was nothing the town could do any longer for its merchants. Tarply had purchased the prior shipment of coal with credit. Now, they owed for the last shipment and the current one, too. The nomads had caused too much havoc on the trade routes; the damage was already done. Larn had secretly admitted to Aton that he did not know what he should do when this day arrived. Tarply needed the coal, mainly for the forges, but the households could also use it. The town’s citizens had spent so much free time working on wall repair and security improvements that they had lagged behind in chopping firewood for their homes. They needed to cook food, and the cooler months of winter were approaching. Because repairing the damaged wall had occupied so many of the townspeople, they might not have enough firewood. Although trees surrounded them, it took time to chop them down and process them into seasoned logs for a fireplace. Hot burning lumps of coal would be very helpful during the upcoming months.
Aton darted inside and retrieved a handful of gold coins, American mintage, easily recognized and widely accepted. He donned his cloak and placed all but one of the coins into an inner pocket of the cape. Hauk followed him inside and went to place the ceramic jar of honey on the table, and he almost placed it on Aton’s design for the improved spear tip. Aton’s cat-like reflexes quickly moved the parchment away, saving it from a smear of honey that had dripped to the bottom of the glazed earthenware container.
“What’s the rush, Aton?” asked Hauk, as he tipped the container forward in a way that invited Aton to dip his fingers into it for a taste. “Where are you going?”
Aton shook his head to the offer of honey. “Business. I’ll be back shortly.”
Aton dashed down the street and found the parade of wagons full of dusty coal. The lead cart had already passed. Aton’s head oscillated from side to side as the wagons went down the street. The leader of the caravan had to be somewhere. He assumed it would be the man in the lead cart, but he changed his mind when he noticed a man on a horse quickly advancing from the rear of the wagon train, as if the mounted man was ready to take lead of the caravan now that they had arrived behind the town’s walls. As Aton waited for the man on the galloping horse to get closer, the carts continued to pass him in a slow rhythmic fashion. The chunks of coal released puffs of dark dust with every jolt as the wagons bounced along the ruts in the road. Aton found an opportunity to cross through the wagon train. He sprinted between two carts domed with coal, and he intercepted the man on the swift horse, who he thought was the person in charge of the coal carts. Aton took a step in front of the galloping stallion and held up his palm to halt the beast and its rider.
“Whoa!” exclaimed the man, startled, as he pulled back the reins. The horse stopped abruptly in front of Aton. When the man had pulled the reins, the horse’s head had twisted to the side, and Aton could see the stallion’s flared nostrils, wild eyes, and large teeth as it turned its head and chomped the bit.
“I just need a moment of your time,” Aton stated flatly.
“I almost ran you over! Are you crazy, boy?”
“It’s important.”
“If it’s important, I talk to Larn. Who are you?”
“It concerns Larn and the village, I’ll talk for him.”
“Talk? Talk about what?” He spurred the horse. “Boy, I don’t have time for this.”
Aton flashed a gold coin, and the man quickly pulled back on the reins again. Without question, a coal trader intimately understood two colors: the blackness of coal and the glitter of gold. The lead horseman dismounted with a swift, fluid motion, landing solidly on both feet. The man rapidly turned his head to make his long, wavy, gray hair fall behind his back and onto his shoulders. He was much older than Aton, aged enough to have deep wrinkles on his tanned face. Aton was close enough to see that coal dust had impregnated the creases of the coal trader’s skin, making the lines on his face appear more pronounced than they actually were.
“Sir, you have my attention.” His attitude toward Aton had abruptly changed after seeing the glitter of gold.
“Here.” Aton handed him the gold coin.
The man felt the heft of the coin in his hand and studied its intricate design.
“For the coal?”
“No,” Aton confidently replied. “That’s for your troubles.”
“You’re going to need more than this.”
From his hidden pocket inside the cloak, Aton removed the remaining coins and held them in a horizontal stack that went across the length of his open palm. “This is for the coal.”
“But sir, this…this is enough to pay for twice the coal…and the wagons and horses, too.”
“Keep your wagons and horses.”
“Well…alright then…It’s been good doing business with you.” He split the stack of coins, put each half into a separate pocket of his pants, and mounted his horse. “Who are you?”
“I’m Larn’s friend. That’s all you need to know.”
“I’ll tell Larn that I like his friend.”
He spurred his horse, and the spirited animal galloped toward the end of the main road, where most of the blacksmith shops and the forges were located. He was sure Larn would be there.
To Aton, the power of abundant wealth felt intoxicating, maybe addictive. With a great feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction, he started to walk back to his run-down cabin. On his way back, he deeply wondered why so many people with great wealth, power, and influence, had done so few benevolent things when it took such little effort to do so. He understood that those who had risen to powerful positions had most likely been able to because of inheritance, or they had violently gained their status from warfare initiated because of their psychopathic tendencies. In both instances, they would have shared the personal characteristic of being self-centered; kindness or generosity would be as foreign to them as it would be for a fish to live out of water. In a twisted way, the explanation made sense, but he did not like the answer to his philosophical question. Then he asked himself three more questions. What could he do for the greater good, now that he possessed abundant wealth? What could he do to take Olar’s power away if Lanzo Brill and his father, Trahan, had not already done so? If the father and son had gained control of Olar’s territory, how could he ruin them? Answering the latter two questions would automatically solve the first. Aton’s enquiring mind went to work on the solution.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The aroma of baked apples and spices filled Aton’s cabin. For a while, Hauk had been referring to the log house as Aton’s cabin. Hauk had begun the process of moving out of the cabin, so he considered it Aton’s house ever since he had begun construction of a log home as a permanent residence for himself and Aniku the schoolteacher, his fiancée. Now that the cedar shingle roof of his new abode was finished, he dwelled there most days of the week. As he waited patiently for his new home to be completed, he kept his share of their treasure hidden in Aton’s cabin, concealed under the floorboards. On today’s jaunt to visit Aton and inspect his wealth, he had brought an iron skillet full of spiced apples and some sugar, and he had cooked them in Aton’s fireplace. As the dessert sat on the wooden
table and cooled in the autumn air, the cooked apples and spices filled the room with their delicious fragrances.
With his newly found riches, Hauk’s lifestyle had changed considerably from that of a slave. Not having to work any longer, Hauk had idle time on his hands. During his life as a slave, when not cooking for his owner, he had unloaded merchandise from his master’s ships at Acadia’s harbor, or had participated in battles at the whim of the warlord. No longer forced to cook or fight, he sometimes reminisced about preparing delicious meals, but he never hungered for the battlefield. Now that apples were in season, and because he had access to honey, cane sugar, and spices, he had thought that it would be nice to bake a dish of this special treat for Aton, and invite him to watch the glassmaker work on the windows for his new cabin. Unlike Aton’s cottage, his would have glass windows, as requested by his fiancée, Aniku. Hauk was still attending classes in the one-room schoolhouse as the oldest student, trying to learn to read and write, but he was actually more interested in the teacher, because he had fallen deeply in love with her.
The village’s glassmaker had a hot shop on the main road, not far away from the old cabin. Today, Hauk planned to watch that craftsman make plate glass for his cabin’s windows, which would be translucent more than they would be transparent. He wanted Aton to go with him. Hauk knew that Aton was a curious man who always craved knowledge, always wanting to conquer the mystery behind anything that he did not understand. Hauk thought that an invitation to watch the creation of plate glass would be interesting to Aton, something that he had not witnessed yet. Hauk knew that the glassmaker would heat beach sand to a high temperature and pour the resulting thick, molten substance onto the reverse side of the flat surface of an ancient metal road sign. After the molten sand cooled and formed a flat sheet of glass on the antique sheet metal, the artisan would score carefully measured linear marks on the glass, then cautiously break it along the etched lines, creating the final shape that would match the dimensions of the new cabin’s window openings. Hauk thought that it would be a fascinating process for Aton to witness, another treat for his curious mind. He also thought that Aton would be especially interested in seeing the ancient sign made of thin sheet metal, but according to Aton, not today. He was too busy, so it was just a quick visit to Aton’s cabin for Hauk today. Hauk came and went in a hurry to get back to his new, partially built house and help with its design and construction. He had rushed down the main road and returned home, forgetting the iron skillet at Aton’s cabin.
