Tall pine trees heralded the entrance to the valley. A bubbling spring fed a creek that flowed into the valley. The group sighed as they gained the coolness of the forest. Werner led them through the trees to an area that was rich in farmland. Mature fields spread away towards the horizon. Herds of wasooki and clova dotted the landscape, and a large stone castle sat in the middle of it all.
Jiadin were everywhere in the valley. They were tending the fields and the herds, cutting down trees, building corrals and buildings. Werner led the group towards the castle as members of the group shouted to Jiadin that they recognized. Waves were exchanged and the spirits of the group soared. The valley was indeed a paradise.
When they arrived at the stone castle, Aakuta was waiting for them. Werner introduced the newest arrivals, and ordered the group to dismount. Werner gathered the horses and tied them to a rail and returned to listen.
“What is this place?” asked Gregnic. “How come we have never heard of it?”
“This is my valley,” declared Aakuta. “You are welcome to a piece of it if you agree to my terms. I expect that Werner has explained everything to you?”
“One year of service for a piece of paradise,” nodded Gregnic as his eyes continued to take in the sights of the valley.
“What do we have to do?” asked Klavin.
“Whatever I tell you to do,” replied Aakuta. “You obey my orders and you get a permanent home in this valley with enough land to be happy for the rest of your days. If you disobey an order, you will die.”
“And who is going to kill us?” quipped Klavin. “You do not look like much of a fighter. We could just take this whole valley for ourselves.”
Aakuta pointed a finger at Klavin. The giant flew backwards and slammed to the ground. He groaned loudly as he struggled to get to his feet.
“Do not even think of betraying me,” snarled Aakuta. “I have no tolerance for fools.”
Gregnic hurried over to Klavin and quickly examined him for injuries. Klavin grumbled loudly, but he refused to meet Aakuta’s gaze. He kept his eyes glued to the ground as he made his way back to the group.
“You are pretty scrawny for a warrior,” scowled Aakuta as he pointed at Gregnic.
“I am a healer,” Gregnic declared.
“A healer? Echoed Aakuta. “Do you know magic?”
“No,” Gregnic shook his head. “I bandage wounds and tend to ills as best I can.”
“What good is that to me?” snarled Aakuta. “I want an army, not scrawny people.”
Gregnic gazed at the fertile valley and knew that he wanted to live there. He had spent too much time wandering Fakara and wondering where his next meal was going to come from. He was determined to make sure that he was not rejected.
“For one thing,” Gregnic responded, “I can gather Jiadin much better than Werner.”
“What is wrong with Werner?” asked the dark mage.
“He is Khadoran,” shrugged Gregnic. “The Jiadin have no use for Khadorans.”
“How did you know he was Khadoran?” inquired Aakuta.
“Everything about him is Khadoran,” answered Gregnic. “He rides a horse like a Khadoran. He walks and talks like a Khadoran. Even the way he stands erect tells everyone where he is from. Jiadin will avoid him when they see him, unless they think he is easy prey for an ambush.”
Aakuta gazed at Werner and nodded. The Khadoran’s posture was decidedly different. Werner stood erect as if he was standing before his lord. Aakuta slowly nodded.
“Then you will recruit Jiadin for me, Gregnic,” decided Aakuta. “Get them settled, Werner, and return to me.”
A pall of worry fell over Werner’s face as he led the new arrivals to the work hall. He showed them where they could bunk for the night and then introduced them to someone who would get them settled. He worried about losing his job as he returned to the castle. As he climbed the stone steps to Aakuta’s study, he wondered how he could discredit Gregnic.
“Come in, Werner,” Aakuta called before Werner’s hand even touched the door.
It always unnerved Werner when Aakuta did that. He opened the door and stepped into Aakuta’s study. Aakuta was gazing out the window and did not turn as Werner crossed the floor and sat down.
“Finding Gregnic was excellent,” Aakuta said as he turned his head to face Werner. “I have a different task for which you are better suited.”
“What is it?” asked Werner.
“I want an estate in Khadora,” Aakuta declared.
“You have a lot of gold,” frowned Werner, “but not near enough to buy an estate.”
“I did not say that I wanted to buy one,” snickered Aakuta. “I said that I wanted one. You are to return to Khadora and find one for me. It must be large enough to host our Jiadin friends that you have been bringing here.”
“How many of them?” asked Werner.
“Thousands of them,” replied the mage. “I don’t care what I have to do to obtain the estate, Werner. Just find me one that suits my purpose. You will recognize it when you see it.”
Chapter 24
Eastern Frontier
The cornfields were trampled as the soldiers ran through the rows and dove into the long earthen trenches. Some of the soldiers landed on their feet in the trenches, but others tumbled head over heel.
“No, no, no,” shouted Cortain Tagoro. “Everybody up and out of the trenches. We will do this over and over until you get it right.”
The soldiers grumbled and climbed out of the trenches. Their uniforms presented a rainbow of colors. From the orange and yellow of the Balomar clan to the green and white of the Nordon clan, all of the uniforms were covered in mud. Cortain Tagoro in the black and silver of the Torak clan was the only soldier not dirty.
“The first men into the trenches must immediately bring up their bows to target the enemy,” shouted Cortain Tagoro. “I did not see many bows readied that last time. Do you want the Jiadin to follow you into your trenches? If you are not ready for a retreat, that is exactly what they will do. Get back to the skirmish line, and for goodness sake, be mindful of the corn. I understand that during battle the corn will be ruined, but there is no reason to destroy it now. The attack may not be until after harvest, and the paths through the field are already plenty wide.”
The soldiers bowed their heads and grumbled under their breath as they trudged back through the field to the imaginary skirmish line.
“Stop!” shouted Lord Marak as he and Lord Oktar approached the exercise.
Everyone froze and turned towards the voice of the Torak lord.
“Tagoro, bring out your corte for a demonstration,” ordered Lord Marak. “Let these men rest and see what it is you are trying to teach then.”
Cortain Tagoro nodded as he waved the muddy men to the side of the trench opposite the cornfield. The men lined up and watched as a corte of black and silver soldiers marched into the field. They took up a position at the skirmish line, which was barely visible through the rows of corn. Suddenly, Cortain Tagoro blew a whistle.
One third of the Torak soldiers immediately turned and ran for the trench, sheathing their swords and unstrapping their bows as they ran. Another third mimicked the behavior of the first, but only retreated halfway before kneeling and nocking arrows. The last third acted as if they were still fighting some invisible enemy with their swords. After a short delay, the last third of the Torak soldiers turned and ran for the trench. They ran past their kneeling brethren and switched their swords for bows as they leaped into the trench and turned to fire at the nonexistent enemy. Finally, the men kneeling rose and also scrambled into the trench.
Lord Marak stepped forward and bowed exaggeratedly to the men in the trench. “That is an ordered retreat,” Lord Marak said loudly to the muddy men that were watching. “A retreat is not turning around and running for safety so that you will not be injured. A retreat is moving back to a fortified position in a synchronized manner that provides cover to save your fellow soldiers from getting injured. Always keep your mind on protecting the others. Someone else will be looking out for your welfare. Now get out there and try it again.”