Into the Fray: Volume 1 of The Sorcerers of Jhanvia Series (23 page)

BOOK: Into the Fray: Volume 1 of The Sorcerers of Jhanvia Series
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“My lord and lady, the clan has gathered,” Zakrell announced from the outside.

“Come, my friend.”

The big man entered followed by a loyal soldier who carried the fine cloak previously worn by Kutrik. “We believe that this properly belongs to you now,” Zakrell stated as the young soldier laid it out on the bed.

“Thank you, Zakrell,” Satreka said as he caressed it with his fingertips and noted, “It is quite beautiful, is it not?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Satreka took a deep breath and stated, “On this night, it is most important to solidify our hold on power. Wearing this might be perceived as antagonistic. I shall wear my normal clothes.”

“Very good,” Zakrell agreed. “Juun has positioned himself strategically in case he is needed. How is your leg?”

“I’ll be fine.” Satreka paused and looked at his friend, “Did I just steal your favorite phrase?”

Zakrell and Natilya laughed. The big man answered, “I think you did.”

“Actually, it feels quite good, all things considered. It’s still a bit numb from whatever Juun did earlier.” Satreka looked over at Natilya, “Are we ready for this?”

She smiled, “Of course, my love. Your greatness will light our way.”

He took her hand and they walked out of the room with Zakrell and the young soldier closely behind. Satreka had a noticeable limp, but he was able to walk reasonably well. He had a bit of difficulty
with the stairs down to the main level of the castle, but then he strode confidently along the hallway and out into the courtyard.

Zakrell pointed toward the south drawbridge and directed, “This way.” He led the procession across the moat where two pyres had been constructed, Kutrik on the taller one and Resali on one a foot shorter. A layer of those loyal to Satreka had been arranged within the gathered throng to protect their leader and display support. Satreka and Natilya stood reverently in front of Kutrik as Zakrell took an unlighted torch from Gushol, who stood at the ready to light the fire for Resali.

Satreka winced in pain as he carefully climbed up a few steps on the wood structure to get one last look at Kutrik’s face. Despite their disagreements, Kutrik had been his mentor for nearly ten years. They had developed a bond not unlike close brothers and he relied on the older man’s counsel to mold his maturity and internal strength. He took off a silver pendant that Kutrik had given him years ago and tucked it in the dead man’s grip. He remained for a few quiet moments with his hand resting on Kutrik’s chest and then he whispered, “My friend, I truly wish we had not come to this moment in this way. Much of whom I am today I owe to you. I will miss you. May your lives ahead be full of adventure. Be happy and content in all you do.”

The young warlord was careful where he placed his feet as he stepped down off the wooden structure. Zakrell lit the torch from a small fire that burned near him and handed it to his friend. Satreka pushed it into the lower reaches of the pyre in several places to ensure that the fire burned evenly. Gushol did the same with the fire for Resali. They all stood back in quiet reverence as the flames quickly worked their way up through the wood and slowly consumed the bodies. Satreka stared up at the smoke soaring high into the sky. A lone tear slowly crept down his cheek. Natilya noticed, firmed her grip on his hand and looked over to him, intending comfort for his sadness. They watched for several minutes, until the wooden structures began to collapse.

Satreka moved next to Zakrell and whispered, “Natilya and I are going back into the castle. Have the leadership gather for court
in the great hall in one hour. Use your judgment on the security arrangements.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Satreka took her hand and they walked back across the drawbridge into the castle courtyard. He stopped as they were about to go into the main entrance with something obviously hanging on his mind.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Did I mention how beautiful you look this evening?” Satreka asked lovingly.

Her eyes smiled with surprise, “No, you did not.”

“Then I am a fool. In not taking every opportunity granted to me to express my appreciation for you, I let the most important aspects of life pass into the void.”

“But, you had so much on your mind….”

He smiled as he interrupted her, “That is no excuse for my failure.” He pushed a few stray hairs back over her ears and continued, “You are the most important person in my life. No one has ever meant so much to me, so the depth of what we have together is still a bit strange for me. I will make a more concerted effort to express my appreciation for you and for our family, and I ask you to admonish me firmly if I ever fail you in this way again.”

She laughed a little and replied, “As you wish, my love.”

He kissed her passionately and then wrapped his arms firmly around her, holding on for a long time. At one moment, he could feel her claws gently touch his back as she reciprocated.

At the appointed time, Satreka and Natilya approached the main entrance to the great hall. He stopped at the threshold momentarily, observing a contingent of loyal soldiers lining a path to the far end of the room near the left wall. ‘A good security precaution,’ he thought to himself.

And security was a paramount concern. Before him were two dozen of the most powerful leaders of the Scecian clan, each supported by more than a handful of their best soldiers. He sensed that the room was divided more-or-less equally between those who would support him unconditionally, those who would oppose him without hesitation, and those who were neutral, but could be swayed to his benefit if they felt his cause was just and achievable. His presentation needed to be direct and forceful, with a hint of humility. Apprehension caused his stomach to flutter just a bit, so he took her hand in an effort to bring calm to his spirit.

All eyes followed as they walked to the far end of the room, Natilya taking her place on his left as he stood in front of the grand wooden chair. Zakrell stood firm on his right. He took note of the man in the dark cloak standing quietly in the shadows near the servant’s entrance at the far end of the room.

Satreka addressed those gathered, “My friends, Kutrik was a great and honorable man who led us from difficult times to the successes we have recently experienced. Now that he has crossed, I wish to explain to you my vision for our future. It is a future of great prosperity and influence, and I believe it represents a path to political and economic dominance of this region for centuries to come. At the core of this vision is the development and exploitation of a new breed of human, the likes of which has never been seen. I am speaking of an unprecedented blending of the species, the blending of human and Valtyr.”

There was a great grumbling from the assembled as they were surprised by his revelation.

A young man from the middle of the gathering spoke up, “My lord, we humans and the Valtyr are not compatible for procreation. How do you expect to achieve success?”

“With a bit of magical assistance, such a blending is possible.” He motioned to his left, “My mate, Natilya, is carrying my child.”

An old man from the back of the gathering spoke up loudly, “This is an insult to our heritage!”

A younger man near the front of the room replied, “Or this is just the next step in our path. Such a blending could bring our clan superior physical strength and stamina. The Valtyr are the greatest warriors on this continent. Combining their physical attributes with our pension for conquest, we could become an insurmountable force.”

“Well said,” Satreka responded. “What I am asking is that you keep your minds open to the possibilities this future could bring us and support me in my efforts during these times. I am certain that difficulties will arise, as this is uncharted territory for us, but I believe our determination and perseverance will carry us to unprecedented successes.”

“What happens when the Valtyr find out what you are planning?” a man from the front asked.

“Well I certainly don’t intend to tell them, my lord,” Satreka said sarcastically. There was a smattering of laughter drifting in from the assembled. “Natilya has voluntarily renounced her birthright and is with us of her own free will. She shares our vision of the future. Her own people will not turn on her.”

“This sounds like a dangerous path for us,” the same man concluded.

Satreka responded, “It is not without risk, but the benefits could be immeasurable. In our history, our leaders have taken bold actions in their efforts to make our people great, most notably our break with the Rutalans nearly two hundred years ago. I believe the time has come for the next great leap forward for our people. This could be our most shining moment and I would like all of you to be with me on this journey.”

Zakrell let a few moments pass before demanding, “What say you?!”

There was intermittent grumbling and discussion, but it was obvious that Satreka’s argument was supported by the vast majority of those present. Gushol could be seen looking at two of Kutrik’s most loyal supporters, their eyes quietly betraying their displeasure. He motioned with his eyes for the older gentleman to follow, and they quietly slipped away.

“We will support you,” rang out from a man in the middle of the gathering.

“As will we!” another spoke forcefully from the back of the room.

Quickly others chimed in their acceptance, and it was at that moment the consensus was reached that Satreka would lead.

The new clan leader stated, “I thank you all for your resounding support. I shall not give you reason to ever regret your decision this day. Please, everyone let us drink to our future.”

The servants on cue brought in ale for those assembled.

Satreka stood and held up a cup, “In honor of Kutrik and our ancestors who have gone before us!”

Those in the room responded by raising a toast.

Satreka smiled and took Natilya by the hand.

Gushol firmly closed the old wooden door of the tiny anteroom behind him. It was located just beyond the main staircase. The sounds of celebration echoing from the great hall filtered through as he addressed his elder, “It is good to see you well, Brinnan.”

“And you, Gushol. How long has it been?” he asked, flashing a bright smile from beneath his well-kept black beard that was evenly spotted with gray. He was a man of average height, but quite muscular. His skin was darkly tanned and quite weathered, as he had spent much of his forty-five years on horseback. His deep red cloth shirt stopped just beyond his shoulders, and was topped with a black leather jerkin. His black leather pants showed significant wear, but his sword and knife were bright and well-maintained.

“Almost two years, I think,” the young lieutenant replied. He was twenty-three years of age, slender and strong, and about six feet in height. He was attired in the standard soldier’s uniform.

“Well, that’s far too long a time. We must meet more often.”

“I would welcome that. I was hoping for your guidance….”

Brinnan finished his sentence, “…now that Kutrick is gone?”

Gushol nodded anxiously.

The elder’s manner elicited calm, “Leadership changes happen frequently. Best not to get too worked up when they present.”

“Kutrick expressed grave reservations over Satreka’s plans.”

“He was very wise, and I think that concern was well-placed. From what I have heard, it is quite possible our new clan leader may force an unpleasant encounter with the Valtyr.”

“We must stop this before it gets out of hand.”

Brinnan smiled and pointed toward the commotion happening down the hall, “Our people have chosen their leader, and he is Satreka.”

Gushol was disheartened by his response.

The elder stepped over and placed his hand on the young man’s shoulder, “I agree with you, but this is not the time. Where are your men?”

“In Triami.”

“I am transferring your contingent to my command. I promote you to captain, and I want you to be my eyes and ears in the west.”

“My lord, I am honored,” Gushol was surprised and excited for the opportunity.

“Remain in Triami and report to me regularly of the goings-on. I am to join my men in Fadlis, where we are working to expand our influence to the south.”

“Yes, my lord. I will not disappoint.”

“I know, my boy. Allay your fears, all will be well. But understand, you will be nearest the Valtyr influence. Soon it may be a very dangerous place.”

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