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Savage Betrayal

Page 10

by Anni Antoni


  “Then we will train with one other group belonging to one of the elite, one group in the morning, one in the afternoon. At the end of two weeks each group will have had at least one session with me and I will be able to see who among the leaders is training their groups well.”

  The Arbiter looked bewildered. “At least you know your numbers well,” he said at length.

  “I think you will be surprised at what we can do in two weeks,” I said putting my hand on his shoulder. “There’s no need to worry. We will please the Prince.”

  The Arbiter scratched his head. “This is beyond me, I'm afraid, so I will just have to trust you. I will choose the elite soldiers now and bring them to you. Twenty did you say? We will train them in the soldiers’ section. I’ll send for you when I have gathered them together.” He left and headed through a long passage-way to the soldiers’ quarters, still scratching his head.

  I hoped fervently my plan would work. It was just something I dreamed up on the spur of the moment, but it seemed to satisfy the Arbiter and I hoped it would bring the results I had promised. Whatever the outcome, the soldiers would be more skillful than when they started out.

  I hated to think of what carnage they would produce along the way. Innocent farming communities would be devastated, their farms taken. All because one man, the Prince, was greedy for power. Then I remembered he was doing this for his father, King Juf. His father must have the same power-hungry nature.

  Remembering Marron’s words, this was normal behavior for this part of the world, I raked my fingers through my hair. Why couldn't all mankind be like Pelle and his family, or my future wife and her family?

  A sudden thought struck me. I’d be working with men expected to kill. Part of what I’d be teaching them would be how to do it better.

  Chilled to the core, I realized I was sinking ever deeper into the ways of this brutal world, and I could see no way of doing anything else.

  Repressing a shudder, I resolved to put those thoughts out of my mind. What choice did I have? Protecting Rachel and my human family was my priority, and I was determined to do that, whatever the cost.

  Chapter 20.

  Training Soldiers

  The Arbiter came rushing through the passage from the soldiers’ living quarters, panting heavily and beckoning to me.

  “Come, come, they’re waiting for you.”

  He turned, and, when I followed him into the courtyard of the soldiers’ quarters, my mouth dropped open. There were 20 soldiers there, but apart from a few seasoned soldiers, the rest were just young boys.

  I stood there appalled. These boys, so-called soldiers, were being sent to war? Covering up my confusion, I turned to the Arbiter and said, “Who’s in charge here?”

  “I am Sir.” A tall, thin young man, looking a little older than the rest of them, detached himself from the group and stood to attention. “My name is Duggan.”

  “Thank you, Duggan. Show me what your men can do,” I said. “Put them through their paces.”

  Duggan stood looking at me, his face a picture of confusion. “I’m not sure what you mean Sir,” said Duggan.

  I turned to the Arbiter, puzzled, but he merely shrugged.

  “What are these men trained to do?” I asked. The Arbiter shrugged again.

  “We usually just play games and collect food for the fort from the farms Sir,” said Duggan. “That and gamble, or sometimes we go out hunting game when supplies run short.”

  The men were standing in a rough semicircle around us. “Form two lines and march around the compound,” I said to Duggan, “while I speak with the Arbiter.”

  Duggan busied himself with the men and soon had them marching in formation around the outside of the compound. At least they managed to do that without any mishap. I watched them for a few moments. The men weren’t in step but they kept in line. Perhaps I could get them to follow simple instructions.

  Duggan looked at me for approval and I nodded. “Good, that’s exactly what I wanted. Keep going,” I shouted.

  I turned to the Arbiter, shaking my head. “What sort of army is this? They don’t seem to have had any training.”

  “No, we don’t train them.” The Arbiter whispered. “These are the expendable ones we send out to battle. The experienced soldiers remain behind to guard the fort. Once a new soldier has survived a few battles, he is eligible for further training and privileges and can advance to the ranks of the professional soldiers. They live further down the hill in their own compound, five hundred of them, all good, experienced soldiers.”

  I frowned. “Why don’t you train these men, instead of sending them out to battle unprepared?” The logic of it escaped me.

  “That’s the way it’s always been done, until you suggested we do it another way,” he said, putting his hands on his hips and acting as though I was accusing him of the army’s inefficiency.

  “These men are but farmers’ sons who can’t be supported by the farm, especially once the Prince taxes the farmer for protecting them. These surplus young men are sent to the fort where the benevolent Prince lodges and feeds them and they, in return, work for him and fight his battles. It’s a system that works well.”

  I was speechless, but I couldn’t help feeling sad for the poor young men, hardly more than boys, who had been sent here as the best way to survive and perhaps find useful employment.

  If they managed to survive, they would be included as one of the Prince’s regular soldiers, no doubt get better food and lodgings, and have some prospects for their future. However, I decided there was not much I could do for these men, except to train them to be better soldiers, better able to survive and perhaps qualify for a promotion to the regular ranks.

  Duggan kept marching the men around the compound. “Thank you, Duggan.” I yelled across the yard at him. “Line your men up in front of me. We will start training now.”

  **********

  The Arbiter left me with the men to go about his business. As they lined up, I noticed each one had a sword and scabbard that was new looking and, of course, I recognized many were my and Pelle’s work. That was a good place to start, I decided, seeing how they handled their weapon.

  “Men, I want to see how you handle your sword. On my command, draw your sword and stand at the ready.” It seemed reasonably straightforward. How could I imagine what they would do with it?

  “Now!” I said, expecting all to use their dominant hand to draw the sword across their body. No such luck.

  Twenty different ways of drawing a sword were demonstrated to me. And, incredibly, all were wrong. One man even managed to cut himself.

  Several struggled with their dominant hand and the scabbard on the same side. Some managed to get their swords stuck. I groaned inwardly. How could they be so inept?

  “Thank you, men. Let me see any injuries you have. The rest of you stand at attention.”

  The man with the cut hand walked sheepishly up to me, dripping blood everywhere. It was a deep cut, a testimony to the wicked sharpness of the blades Pelle and I had crafted. Under the guise of examining his hand, I grabbed it and applied a blast of healing, just enough to make sure it would heal rapidly and not get infected.

  “Ah, it’s only a scratch. It should heal in no time,” I said, hoping he’d believe me. The man grinned at me, showing no surprise. “Go back to your position.” He happily obeyed while I was left amazed at his gullibility.

  I had discovered the beginnings of the Guardian ability for mind control, something I would have much use for in future years.

  When he was back in line, I continued. “Thank you, men. Now let me demonstrate the proper way. For a start, your scabbard should be on the opposite side of your body to the hand you use to fight with. You will draw your sword across your body. Let me demonstrate.” Keen eyes watched my every move as I slowly removed my sword from its scabbard. “Change the side of your scabbard if you need to,” I instructed the men.

  I strode in front of the men as some changed thei
r scabbard to the correct side. “Stand at attention when you’re ready,” I said. When all the men stood at attention and ready, I continued. “Now that you all have your scabbard on the correct side, let me demonstrate the best way to draw your sword.”

  Standing in a relaxed position with my arms by my side, I shouted. “Draw!” Quickly grasping my sword by the handle and drawing it out smoothly, I stood at the ready in a defensive position. I heard a few gasps from the assembled men at the speed I drew my sword.

  “Now, you do the same,” I said. “Draw!” They all complied. I was pleasantly surprised when almost all of them did a passable job. “Well done men,” I said.

  There was hope. They weren’t stupid, as I had feared, just young, inexperienced and untrained.

  All the young men seemed to realize their lives would depend on the skills I was teaching them. It gave them a powerful incentive to learn.

  We practiced this, and other drills, for about an hour before I gave them leave to relax. At the end of that time they could draw their swords and stand in a defensive position like experienced, trained soldiers.

  For the rest of the day I trained them hard. An hour of vigorous training followed by a break of a few moments. By day’s end, the men had surpassed all my expectations with what they had learned.

  I finished the day hopeful we would make good solid progress over the coming two weeks. I could hardly wait to show the Arbiter and the Prince what these young men were capable of.

  **********

  What I didn’t know at the time, was that important events were taking place behind the scenes, that would change everything. I’ve had eons to surmise about what happened behind my back, and I present my best theory to you.

  Chapter 21.

  Treachery Behind the Scenes

  Prince Evrat sat pale-faced on his throne, wringing his hands, a trembling messenger on his knees before him.

  “Get me the Arbiter,” he screeched, his voice reverberating around the room.

  Half a dozen soldiers detached themselves from around the walls and ran out into the courtyard, to do his bidding.

  A few seconds later the Arbiter burst into the throne room, ran to the Prince and fell on his knees. “Your eminence, what can I do for you?” The Arbiter bowed his head, his shoulders shaking as he tried to present a calm facade.

  “This messenger…” He aimed a kick at the shaking man before him. “has brought me bad news. He tells me there have been floods around my father’s fort. When the floodwaters receded, farmlands for miles around were devastated, all crops destroyed. Now they are running low on food, and they’re coming here, to us, to spend the winter. We must find accommodation for them.” The Prince dropped his head in his hands.

  The Arbiter looked up. “This is indeed terrible news, your graciousness. What do you propose?”

  “It's your job to find a solution.” The Prince roared. “Don't ask me those silly questions. Find a solution and make sure my father and his court get good accommodation. They are bringing their entire court and their best tradesmen, who will also need accommodation.”

  He aimed another kick at the hapless messenger. “Take this idiot, he’s ruined my day. I wash my hands of the whole situation. You're the Arbiter. Fix things!” He folded his arms and leaned back in his throne, a satisfied smile spreading over his face.

  The Arbiter bowed his head. “Yes, your gracious eminence. Never fear, I will find a solution that pleases both you and King Juf.” He backed out of the room, pulling the hapless messenger who scrambled to his feet, alongside him. The messenger would tell him exactly who was coming. Then he would find a creative solution. Fear oiled his brain.

  Whatever accommodation had been promised would have to be withdrawn while the King and his retinue wintered at Juffort. If they stayed longer, new accommodation could be built, but that was only a possible problem for the future. He shelved that concern.

  The main problem would be feeding them, but he had Joshaviah training the army. They would be victorious, he was sure of it and there would be plenty of food coming back from the front, once they had captured more farmlands. The autumn harvest was about to start and it promised an abundance of food for all.

  Thanking his lucky stars for small mercies the Arbiter went about his business with a heavy heart, his mind reeling with possible solutions for his problem. Who were the most expendable?

  Chapter 22.

  War Looms Closer

  Training continued. As always, the men surprised me with how quickly they learned.

  I knew the Arbiter wanted me to increase the pace of my training. So, before a week had passed, I decided the elite twenty I had trained should begin drilling the remaining soldiers.

  The rank-and-file of the remaining soldiers clattered into the compound. Although appalled at the young age of the men I'd been training to date, nothing prepared me for these would-be soldiers.

  Most were only boys, not even fully grown -- a thin, scrawny, unkempt bunch. Only one thing made them look more like soldiers, their weapons. Each wore a shiny new sword and scabbard at their side.

  Although my heart bled for them, it was my job to train them, and I consoled myself thinking they would have a better chance of staying alive if they went to war trained.

  I repeated the training I gave their leaders on the first day -- making sure they wore the scabbard on the correct side, how to draw the weapon and how to take a defensive position.

  Then I put them through a rudimentary drill, much as I had done with my original group on the first day. They were scared boys who didn’t want to die – a powerful motivation to learn survival skills, and, like the elite group, they learned fast.

  Each day I met with my core team to tell them what to do with their group. Then one group would train with me and their leader while the other groups trained with their leaders.

  The two weeks was almost up. I was proud of their progress, but I wanted the Arbiter and the Prince to see how well they were trained. My future with Rachel depended on it. A strange feeling the Arbiter was avoiding me took root in my breast and silently grew.

  **********

  The last day of training dawned. My young soldiers were battle ready, but neither the Arbiter, nor the Prince, had seen what they had achieved. I was proud of these young men and I needed the Prince to know I had fulfilled my part of the bargain so I could get my own quarters and take Rachel as my wife.

  Duggan oversaw the men, putting them through their paces, drilling them until they were perfect in the execution of the routines I had instilled into them. This meant I was free to talk to the Arbiter and find some place in his day when he was free to inspect my young soldiers. It was still early in the morning when Arbiter Berkant walked to his daytime business quarters.

  Now was my chance. “Arbiter, Arbiter Berkant, I must speak with you,” I said, my voice an urgent croak.

  “I'm busy Joshaviah. No time to spare.” He turned his back on me and continued on his way.

  “But Arbiter my soldiers go into battle tomorrow.” I croaked after him in desperation. “You need to inform the Prince of the excellent standard they have reached. I’m sure he'll be surprised and pleased with how they perform.”

  The Arbiter stopped walking, cocked his head and turned. “The Prince will be pleased, you say?”

  “Yes, I'm sure of it. I’m pleased with the men. They have surpassed every expectation of mine. I'm sure you'll be pleased too, if not astounded.”

  “Well, you’ve made me curious. Lead the way.” The Arbiter waved a hand in my direction.

  I couldn't understand. Why hadn’t he been eager to see them? Was something new distracting him? At least I had persuaded him to come and see my soldiers. That was a start.

  We walked together to the soldier's quarters. Duggan, fronting the group, saluted.

  “Attention,” he called. The men all straightened and stamped their feet in unison. The Arbiter looked shocked.

  “Take your position men. N
ow!” Duggan called. As one, they drew swords and took a defensive position.

  “Strike!” called Duggan. As one, the men lunged forward.

  “Defend one,” called Duggan. The men took another defensive stance. “Strike two,” the men took another step forward in an aggressive stance.

  “Parry.” called Duggan.

  Once again, the men moved as one, warding off an imaginary blow. Duggan continued to put the young men through their paces. They performed well, in unison, without a hitch.

  I looked over at the Arbiter, whose mouth was hanging open, as if he had never seen such a display of military precision. How I achieved it, I don’t know. It must have been in my blood, but I grinned at his reaction, as proud of these young men as if I had been their father.

  The Arbiter turned to face me, his slack-jaw giving way to smiles of glee.

  “I can't believe this. These boys have become a deadly fighting force. They'll strike fear into the hearts of all who see them. Let me tell the Prince, I must speak with him at once.” With that he hurried away.

  I continued to put the men through their paces. hoping the Prince would turn up, but he didn't show. The uneasy feeling something was wrong continued to grow in my breast. Trying to put the un-named worries out of my mind, I continued the drills.

  As the sun hung low in the sky, I called a halt and spoke to them.

  “Men, you have exceeded all my expectations. Tomorrow you go into battle. Take care of each other as I have taught you, and do your best to stay alive while performing your duties as soldiers. Good luck, men.”

  I was about to dismiss them when the Arbiter came rushing in.

  “The Prince is here,” he said. At once they stood to attention as Prince Evrat came into view.

  “Duggan,” I shouted. “Put the soldiers through their paces for Prince Evrat.” Duggan took command and drilled them as they had never been drilled before. At the end of ten minutes the Prince was standing there, hands on his hips, his fleshy red lips drawn back in a wide smile.

 

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