Valley of the Ram
HawkShadow stood unmoving in the dark forest as the legions of Nordon soldiers rode by. His hand eased the bowstring back as he took aim at one of the men at the rear of the column. It was a much greater distance than HawkShadow would use for an assassination, but he did not care if his arrow killed anyone. Wounding a Nordon at this point was as good as killing one. His task was to create havoc and stall the Nordon march to Deep Bend.
While the arrow was still on its way towards the Nordon column, HawkShadow nocked another arrow and released the bowstring. A scream erupted from the rear of the column as HawkShadow let fly his third arrow.
Without waiting to see the effects of his attack, the Sakovan assassin turned and ran through the dark mass of trees. His feet moved mechanically over the memorized terrain as his path zigzagged towards the river gorge. Already he could hear the galloping of hooves behind him as the Nordon troops reacted to the attack. HawkShadow panted heavily as he raced away from the mounted column, the sounds of his pursuers coming closer at an alarming rate. HawkShadow wondered if he had cut this one too close.
As sweat soaked his body, HawkShadow leaped into the air and grabbed onto a low branch of a large tree. He pulled himself up and reached for the next higher branch. The sounds of pursuit pounded loudly in his head as he reached the third branch and grabbed onto the rope he had tied there earlier. He untied the rope and grasped it with both hands as he pushed off with his feet. The air rushed by the Sakovan as he flew over the river. He involuntarily raised his feet, although he was a good several paces above the surface of the water.
HawkShadow dropped from the rope as he cleared the riverbank on the opposite side of the river from his pursuers. He swiftly grabbed the rope and held it taut as he moved behind a large tree. Just mere seconds later, half a dozen horsemen appeared on the opposite shore. HawkShadow wove an air tunnel and listened to their conversation.
“Two of you to the left,” ordered the leader, “and two to the right. They have to be around here somewhere.”
“What about me?” asked the fifth rider.
“Search between here and the column,” instructed the leader. “They must be on horseback to escape this quickly. See if you can find any tracks.”
“Do you think this is the same group that attacked our scouts?” the fifth rider asked.
“It must be,” mused the leader. “Only fools would attack an army of this size. It must be some group that has a grudge against the Nordon.”
“More like a death wish,” replied the fifth rider as he turned and rode away.
* * *
“Will your rider reach them in time?” Lord Marak asked Lord Marshal Orik.
‘I am not sure,” admitted Orik. “I ordered them to ride straight through.”
“They will be tired when they reach Deep Bend,” frowned Lord Marak. “It is not wise to ride into battle with exhausted troops.”
“I expected only two cortes of Torak troops to be there,” shrugged Orik. “It would not have been much of a battle, and I thought a swift response was rather important.”
“Well, your swiftness has surprised me,” conceded Lord Marak.
“Lord Marak,” Latril said as she stepped into the room. “I need to see you immediately.”
The Torak lord looked at Latril and saw the worry in her eyes. He nodded and excused himself as he left the room.
“What is the matter?” asked Lord Marak.
“I contacted Fardale to let them know that you were all right,” Latril said softly. “It seems that HawkShadow contacted them early last night. He reported that the Nordon army did not stop for the night. They are continuing straight through to Deep Bend.”
“As I just found out,” nodded Lord Marak.
“Well,” frowned Latril, “Lord Marshal Yenga authorized HawkShadow to delay them if it was possible. I thought you should know.”
Lord Marak frowned as he pictured the Sakovan assassin attacking twelve cortes of Lord Patel’s best men.
“Contact Fardale again,” he ordered Latril. “If they hear from HawkShadow, he is to break off any fighting with the Nordon. Try to contact Cortain Talli at Deep Bend. If you get him, keep the air tunnel open and send for me. I will be with Lord Patel.”
Lord Marak returned to Lord Patel’s chambers.
“We need to halt your men,” Lord Marak declared to Lord Patel. “Will your lord at Deep Bend be convincing enough to turn them back before they reach the estate?”
“Lord Grentle can be rather convincing,” nodded Lord Patel, “but will your forces there allow him to leave the estate?”
“I think they will allow it,” Lord Marak said without elaboration. “Send Lord Grentle a message. He is to ride to the bridge over the Khadora River and await your troops. Send a second message from Lord Marshal Orik instructing the men to return here. Under no circumstances are Nordon troops to enter Deep Bend. If they do, there will be much bloodshed.”
“I will see to it immediately,” offered Lord Patel. “Do you wish to include a message for your own troops so they know what is going on?”
“An excellent idea,” nodded Lord Marak.
The notes were written and Lord Marshal Orik left to make arrangements to have them sent.
“I never did congratulate you on your election to the Lords’ Council,” Lord Patel said to break the silence.
“None of the members of the Lords’ Council did,” chuckled Lord Marak. “I did not really expect them to welcome me, but I also did not expect the open hostility from Lord Mirakotto.”
“There are power struggles even within the Lords’ Council,” Lord Patel explained. “Lord Mirakotto has enjoyed a majority of power on the council. Lord Woton and Lord Garic sided with Lord Mirakotto without exception. That alone gave the Argetta clan three votes on any issue.”
“What of the rest of you?” inquired the Torak lord.
“Lord Kiamesh has always opposed Mirakotto,” continued the Nordon lord. “Surely you sensed that during the brief meal and the voting in the Assembly of Lords?”
“I did,” nodded Lord Marak.
“Lord Quilo and I were the fence sitters,” shrugged Lord Patel. “Whatever Mirakotto wanted to get through the council required one of us to side with him. Personally, I found that position to be quite lucrative. Lord Mirakotto is not beyond sharing his wealth to ensure that he gets what he wants.”
“Does he always win?” questioned Lord Marak.
“Not always,” Lord Patel shook his head. “There are times when both Lord Quilo and I find Mirakotto’s proposals too radical, but those times are rare.”
“What about now?” asked Lord Marak. “Lord Woton will not be there to ensure victory for Lord Mirakotto.”
“Which is why he hates you, Lord Marak,” informed Lord Patel. “He would now have to buy the support of both Lord Quilo and me, but I am now aligned with you. Mirakotto will become quite dangerous when he finds that he can no longer win.”
“There is no reason for our relationship to be known,” stated Lord Marak. “In fact, by keeping your distance from me within the council, you may become privy to certain information that is valuable to me.”
“That will be impossible for me to do and maintain my Vows of Service, Lord Marak,” the Nordon lord shook his head.
“Will it?” grinned Lord Marak. “You are sworn to me, but you do not have to like me. I am quite sure that you are capable of joining in their verbal roasting of me.”
“I could indeed,” chuckled Lord Patel. “In fact, I could be the worst roaster of all, but would you not see that as a breech in our agreement?”
“You know what Vows of Service are, Lord Patel,” smiled Lord Marak. “As long as you do not work against my wishes, you are free to say what you think of me, at least before the Lords’ Council. I would not accept such behavior from you if it were among the Nordon people. I doubt whether they would accept it either.”
“You make a good point, Lord Marak,” Lord Patel nodded seriously. “I could have enough of an attitude towards your policies that would make Lord Mirakotto believe that I still oppose you. In fact, I still do oppose your policies, although I am honor bound to implement them.”