by Lance Wilson
It is the next day and Byrdi is sitting in his new army tent watching his new army train. He is sitting with his legs crossed writing in his journal.
‘It is fall as I watch this new army train; I cannot help but think of those who rode with me in me against the Kainith elves. For four years they had survived, never once shrinking from the fire. And so, when given order to charge the advancing rebel infantry, they never hesitated… . And they all died.’
He writes and stops looking at the last line of his writings. He can actually hear the fire of the Kainith elf machine in his ears, the screams of his soldiers ‘now I am training another army, in another civil war. Is this why I was spared? Once again to lead men to their death?’ Slowly Byrdi closes his eyes and takes a long deep breath. He then goes and begins to help the training. First he moves through the squad teaching how to single fire the rifles in a sequence so that they are less venerable then begins to show them saber fighting by sparing with his comrade Bolvive. Bolvive spars for only a bit and knows that Byrdi is far superior but takes it in good humor. It is sunset when Yoshi walks up and speaks. Of course it is in Salatar and both Bolvive and Byrdi look to Simon and wait for the translation.
“The problem is they’re peasants. They have never had this sort of responsibility or power.” Simon translates smiling.
Byrdi watches Bolvive march beside the Salatar. They are illuminated by the majestic red sunset
“Ask him if they have a flag.” Byrdi says looking at the sunset with a soft smile.
“No flag.” Simon translates after relaying the questions and getting the answer from Yoshi
“They need a flag.” Byrdi says knowing that a flag is a symbol that the men can rally around, something they can take pride in. something they will want to defend to the death. He has seen work every time.
Saddrith Mora is the largest of the islands of this eastern empire and is an island in chaos. Everything seems out of balance. Dystrophic. A collision of Eastern and Western. Byrdi and Bolvive watch as Simon prepares to take a photograph of an old merchant in front of his store.
“I’ve been doing this for years. Trying to capture it before it’s all gone. Afraid I’m losing the battle.” Simon says looking hard knowing that the west is quickly taking over.
Byrdi silently watches the passers-by. But something draws his attention: Across the street. A man is striding down the crowded sidewalk. His martial
Bearings, two swords, traditional dress and unique topknot of hair instantly identify him to us as a Vulkoori. Even at first glance Byrdi can tell this man is a terse, grim man. His proud gait and rigid, imperious manner intrigue Byrdi. Most of the people on the sidewalk instantly step out of the way, bowing in deference. But two young Salatar in Western dress do not. The Vulkoori stands before them, waiting for them to move. They don’t. Tense words are exchanged. The Vulkoori glares at them. Byrdi watches intently
“Mr. Simon…” Byrdi says wondering what is going on.
“Ah… now this should be interesting… He’s waiting for them to show deference.” Simon says and watches with Byrdi.
Across the street, The Vulkoori barks out some harsh commands to the two Salatar men. They laugh in response. Then one of the men raises a hand
And barks some clearly disrespectful words back—Like lightning—The Vulkoori pulls out his long Vulkoori sword—it flashes—Cleanly beheading the disrespectful Salatar man—The beheaded corpse begins to fall—In one smooth motion, the Vulkoori wipes his blade clean of the corpse as it falls and sweeps it back into its scabbard. The other man immediately drops to his belly, prostrating himself. Without another glance, the Vulkoori walks away. His face is completely impassive.
“What the hell was that?” Bolvive says shocked at the whole scene. Byrdi isn’t shocked, only eager to see another demonstration.
“That… is a Vulkoori.” Simon says with a smile, now they know what they are up against.
Knowing that they will need to know more Simon gestures across the street where there is a nice restaurant that he has been to many times. They enter the restaurant and instantly are seated the town knowing that Byrdi has spoken with the emperor. Sergeant Bolvive gazes unhappily at his dinner: glistening raw fish; tepid bean curds; boiled rice. Byrdi, Bolvive, Simon, and General Yoshi sit cross-legged on the floor. Bolvive finds this extremely uncomfortable.
“That incident in the streets is because of the change in rules. You see before the edicts every citizen had to prostrate himself in the presence of a Vulkoori.” Simon says trying to explain why the incident in the streets happened.
“What edicts are those?” Byrdi asks calmly wondering what he should know.
“The Council of State has been passing a series of laws designed to eliminate the Vulkoori.” Simon says telling them what has been going on that has started the civil war.
“Why?” Bolvive asks calmly trying to figure it out.
“Because you are here now, Sergeant… For the last 800 years guarding the islands of Salatar and fighting her wars was the exclusive occupation of the Vulkoori. Men like Bai Shi-zi were the most elite caste in Salatar society until the Council of State—led by your friend Kage—decided the whole class had to go… Most of the Vulkoori accepted the new laws. But some didn’t. Or couldn’t. Like Bai Shi-zi.” Simon says and begins to dig into the second course as it arrives. It is a plate of black eels.
As he begins to eat General Yoshi speaks up. And Simon listens for a bit. He quickly swallows his food and then looks across the table.
“General Yoshi bids you to remember that the word Vulkoori means “one who serves.” Their whole existence is based on serving their country as warriors.” Simon translates letting it sink in to the others. He can see that Bolvive is having a bit of a problem with it all but Byrdi seems to get the idea right away.
“Your Imperial Army is taking away their only reason for being… So what are they to do now?” Simon continues stating the problem for the Vulkoori.
Byrdi considers this as he pours another cup of an alcohol they call sake.
“This is sake?” Byrdi asks taking a sniff at it
“Sake. Rice wine.” Simon says with a polite nod.
“Hai! Sake.” Yoshi says nodding at him politely
“Sake. Good.” He asks his question to Yoshi smiling at him. The words are simple enough he is sure the man can understand without a translator.
“Good!” Yoshi says eagerly trying to new English word he has learned.
“Vexing people, the Vulkoori. Bloodthirsty, honorable, cruel, fabulously artistic. Wanted to write a book about them for years, but no Westerner can get close enough.” Simon says eating at the meals, Bolvive still only picks at his
“Ask him if he ever saw a Vulkoori in battle.” Byrdi says looking at the general.
“He is Vulkoori.” Simon says shocked that Byrdi did not know this.
Byrdi looks at Yoshi with new eyes. So he was of the same warrior cast that made the man in the streets, this general however was one of the few who took the merge of the western world as something inevitable and merged with it. He wonders what kind of man this Bai Shi-zi is
It is later in the night and Byrdi and Bolvive, a little drunk by now, have managed to ditch both Yoshi and Simon. The two wander Saddrith Mora’s bustling red light district. The courtesans sit in windows facing the street. Byrdi point to this and Bolvive only laughs, the two then make the decision and go in. When they get there they notices this is certainly not the whorehouse they expected. Lovely flute music plays in the background at the two are shown into a room and gestured to sit down. Soon the madam enters and lowers her head and speaks quietly in greeting.
My friend and I were looking for some companionship…” Bolvive says trying to stay sitting straight.
The madam looks at him confused and Bolvive can tell that doesn�
��t speak the common language between all elves but being drunk has not given him great inelegance so he only speaks louder, as if to a deaf person.
The Madam speaks no English. Bolvive speaks louder, as if to a deaf person.
“Ladies of the evening? Hootchie-contchie? Boom-Boom?” Bolvive says trying to get his point across.
“Bolvive… so sorry.” Byrdi says and bows to the madam embarrassed at his own state and the state of his friend.
“Universal language. Boyo.” Bolvive says presenting a fist full of Salatar currency.
The Madam nods and bows. Almost magically, two beautifully dressed courtesans appear, their faces are painted with intricate white designs
The two courtesans then gesture for Byrdi and Bolvive to follow. The two are then lead into an elaborate room with paper screens, and a table
Set for the Salatar tea ceremony. Bolvive tries to take the arm of one of the courtesan—but she moves away, gesturing for him to sit the other begins the tea ceremony.
“No tea, Sake.” Byrdi says covering the cup of tea with his hand.
A musician plays a traditional lute. The courtesan begins a graceful fan dance.
“Fan dance. Saw this once in Ostigar.” Bolvive says watching and enjoying the show.
Byrdi smiles at the courtesan preparing the tea. She smiles back. Byrdi pours himself a cup of sake.
The night wears on and the tea lays untouched. However there are three or four empty bottles of sake on the table. The interminable lute music continues.
Bolvive is increasingly agitated as the courtesan continues her dance. Byrdi can’t help but laugh at his frustration. Finally Bolvive has had enough. He rises, a bit unsteady from the sake.
“Okay, darling time to get down to business” Bolvive says letting them know that foreplay is over.
Not caring for an audience shoos the musician out of the room, then approaches the courtesan, who shrinks from his intention.
“Bolvive. I don’t think she—” Byrdi begins but is stopped as Bolvive turns to him, then back to the courtesan.
“She’s just shy. Who knows what we white devils have got in our trousers, eh, darling’?” Bolvive says with a chuckle then takes her arm.
She begins to resist and speaks quickly in Salatar, Bolvive not understanding a word ignores it and goes to pull her along. The sleeve of her Kimono tears and she calls out in terror. Two men appear, both Byrdi and Bolvive can only assume that these are what they would call bouncers but there build is small and not as bulky as you would think they would need for this type of job.
“Oh, shit.” Byrdi says wondering what these two might be capable of.
The Madam quickly enters yelling angrily at Bolvive in Salatar and pushing him out roughly.
“Now, hold on there, sister. I paid good money.” Bolvive says snarling at her.
It is then clear to Byrdi that they had made a mistake, these women are not courtesans at all but some form of companionship that has a strict no handling policy. As this occurs to him one of the bouncers puts his hand, politely, on Bolvive’s arm letting him know that it is time to go, and if need be they will force him.
“Back off, short-stuff.” Bolvive growls at the small man
This time, the bouncer is more insistent. Bolvive being the northern elf that he is takes up the challenge and takes a swing at him. This however is the wrong move. Before Bolvive knows what hit him, the little man uses Bolvive’s momentum and flips him to the mat hard. Byrdi can only stare, in awe, at the lethal move. As the second bouncer moves to confront him, bowing apologetically, Byrdi speaks in common elf, smiling, knowing they can’t understand a word he’s saying.
“Obviously you can kick the shit out of people much larger than you, so we’ll be leaving now…” Byrdi says and with another bow he gathers his friend off the ground.
The two of them make there way back to the embassy where they can nurse their wounded pride.
It is early in the mourning and everyone is back at the training grounds. Bolvive is once again leading the men in drills but now he is sporting a black eye. Byrdi, Simon and Yoshi stand watching him run the drills. Yoshi sees the black eye and can only guess that they had a rather eventful night.
“The General wishes to know if you bad a pleasant evening?” Simon says translating for the general as he points to Bolvive and speaks to Simon in his native tongue.
“It was… educational” Byrdi says giving the general a wry look.
Yoshi only nods at this sure that what happened is of little matter here.
“Would the General mind telling me more about our common enemy?” Byrdi says deliberately using the word enemy knowing that Yoshi too, is Vulkoori. Byrdi’s face is like stone though and gives nothing away.
“Bai Shi-zi is an extremely charismatic leader. To those who honor the old ways, he’s a hero. His force is estimated at about five hundred and growing by the day. All Vulkoori.” Simon says translating Yoshi’s words as he speaks.
“What kind of man is he?” Byrdi asks wondering if Yoshi knows him first hand. If so this will make a great edge.
“Bai Shi-zi has no fear. He has no pity. He is kotsutai—the soul of old the islands of Salatar… He is my honored kinsman.” Simon again translates Yoshi’s words after a long pause to consider exactly what to say.
“Kinsman?” Byrdi says shocked at this.
“We grew up together in Yoshino. Marched together and fought together. He is Kaishaku the brother of my spirit.” Simon again translates Yoshi’s words
The three of them again fall into silence as Byrdi observes the rifle practice. The men are still erratic but improving. Byrdi also has noted the look of displeasure that Yoshi has as the sight of these new weapons, Byrdi can hardly blame him.
“Ask him what kind of guns Bai Shi-zi has.” Byrdi asks sure that if the Vulkoori have access to such weapons they will use them.
“The Vulkoori don’t use such weapons,” Simon says not bothering to translate to Yoshi.
“No, ask him what kind of firearms they have.” Byrdi insists with a bit of irritation, he must learn who is in charge regardless of what he would like
Simon translates the question and Yoshi turns to Byrdi a look of pure distain on his face. But he turns back to the men then carefully answers Byrdi’s question.
“The Vulkoori no longer dishonor themselves by touching such things” Simon translates expecting to be struck. But instead Byrdi only smiles. So these people think much like he does.
As he considers this, a young messenger walks up to the training area and hands him a small folded piece of paper. He slowly unfolds it as the servant bows and takes off running to go about the rest of his day. The message states simple that he is required in the war room. He turns and nods to general Yoshi
“Tell him that he is in charge I must tend to something” Byrdi says and watches as Simon translates.
The general only nods as Simon and Byrdi both walk off to go to this war room. Simon takes him the shortest route to the war room and when they enter Patroclus and Kage are already there. He walks in and pours himself a small drink then walks over to the map that the two of them seem to be poring over.
“You do not understand that railroad is vastly important to the people,” Kage says looking over at Patroclus
“Byrdi, it seems you will have your first mission soon” Patroclus says with a sadistic smile on his face.
“What are you talking about?” Byrdi asks confused at all this.
“The railroad has been stopped here, just as it enters Yoshino, Bai Shi-zi’s province” Patroclus says pointing at the map where it was stopped.
“I cannot in good conscious allow my men to go, they are not a fighting unit yet,” he says knowing his men have a long way to go before they are ready for battle.
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��You do not understand this is not a request,” Patroclus says glaring at Byrdi.
“Captain, we cannot govern a country in which we cannot travel freely… . Bai Shi-zi’s provocation is strategic. His defeat will demonstrate to the other disloyal Vulkoori that resistance is an act devoid of honor.” Kage says smiling at Byrdi, his voice like oil, perfectly smooth and slick.
“The rebels don’t have a single rifle. They’re savages with bows and arrows. You get up there and show ’em how it’s done.” Patroclus says placing his hand on Byrdi’s shoulder.
“With respect, sir, I need more time.” Byrdi says a hint of rage in his voice
“With all due respect. This railroad cannot wait.” Kage says and politely bows at Patroclus and Byrdi
Patroclus waits calmly until the door is shut and he is sure that it is just he and Byrdi in the room. He then spins on Byrdi and both of them stare at each other an intense hate between them.
“You think we’re the only country interested in the islands of Salatar? You don’t think the Germans and the French would like to oversee the new army?” Patroclus laying out what is at stake for them if they cannot do this job.
“Colonel—” Byrdi starts but is silenced as Patroclus glares at him. He will let him finish but there isn’t much he can say to sway him.
“Why do you think we’re here, we’re here to sell a shit load of Kainith elf technology to these people and show them that it is the greatest thing to have in a war. They don’t give a shit if your men are ready, now you will follow your orders” Patroclus says snarling at him.
For the longest time the two just stare at each other, a stern look in Patroclus’ eyes as where Byrdi looks like he is on the verge of murder.
“Yes, sir.” Byrdi says taking a long deep breath, his time will come but not here, and not yet.
It is only a few days and Byrdi now finds himself riding along the railroad line doing his new job. Guard the railroad to make sure the progress is not stopped again. A steam engine lends plumes of smoke into the air as it waits. Byrdi is not on his own in this duty however Both Patroclus and General Yoshi ride along the railroad line with him. The Imperial Army follows, with Sergeant Bolvive, on foot. A traditional Salatar village is being torn aside to make room for the railroad line. Houses are being leveled and black smoke drifts up. The displaced villagers gather belongings. Kage guards herd them about rather brutally. Railroad workers are laying a new spur, building a brick station. Byrdi notes the by now familiar Kage symbol on the new water tower and on the headbands of the guards and workers.
