Lukar, the king of Malirra, walked the parapets, pleased with how the cleanup progressed in the city of Gharra. He stood still, watching three Malirran soldiers enter a dwelling several streets away. “Are the men facing any resistance?”
“No,” Duxon, one of Lukar’s commanders, said with a sneer. “The Gharran people rolled over and showed their bellies the day we tortured their noble women on the platform. My King, I must say it was a brilliant move.”
“As much as I would like, I cannot take credit for the idea.”
“Whose devious plan was it, then?” Duxon flashed an almost feral grin.
Seeing the expression out of the corner of his eye, Lukar grunted and raised one eyebrow. “Colm.”
“Ah, I should have known. If it wasn’t you, My King, then it would be him. He is almost as ruthless and devious as you are.”
Lukar grunted again and shifted his gaze to another residence when a different set of soldiers walked out loaded down with valuables. Lukar jerked his chin toward the men ransacking the households. “Where are all the valuables being taken?”
Duxon twisted around, pointing in the direction of one of the storage buildings inside the castle grounds. “Alux had them start with the noble houses first. Once the houses are ransacked, the officers take possession of the buildings for their own needs.”
Lukar nodded, all too familiar with how each city and kingdom they conquered was pillaged for the spoils of war. He commanded, “Make certain the spoils are spread out amongst the men in the army. No one goes back to Malirra without valuables they can use or sell. The men deserve it.”
The commander bowed low. “It will be done.” Duxon shot a look toward the runner standing behind him, and the young man scampered down the stairs.
Lukar growled as a fight broke out in the street below. His men knew better. He debated having an officer deal with the incident, but Lukar’s interference would put a halt to any future disagreements. He flowed down the stairs and out of the castle gates without a backward glance.
Besides, he was bored. Although his attention was better spent on developing a strategy to conquer Kureto, he and his war council were at a standstill. Until his spies gathered enough information about the layout of the underground kingdom, he dared not budge from Pyran. It was arrogance to believe any army could subdue an entire kingdom without knowing its enemy’s strengths and weaknesses. History was filled with Malirran kings who had invaded lands with no prior knowledge of who they fought. His men deserved better than that.
But his men also knew better than to squabble over petty trinkets in front of the townspeople. When Malirrans presented a united front, fewer attempts to overthrow their new king occurred. Dissension in the ranks was never allowed.
The men who fought in the middle of the street were so focused on each other they missed his approach. Aware hidden eyes tracked him, Lukar put on a burst of speed, using Semnac’s gift of speed and power. He slammed both men to the ground with a single sweep of his leg. The valuables they had loaded themselves down with rolled in every direction on the cobblestone street. Angry scowls morphed into frightened expressions when they saw their attacker.
The two men jumped up. With faces drained of blood, fearing their king’s wrath, they quickly kneeled and bowed their heads.
The call for their blood shook him to the core. He almost couldn’t withhold the tremor threading up and down his limbs. Lukar used sheer willpower to maintain his focus.
Semnac’s blessing was turning into a curse. It didn’t matter how much he ate, Lukar was never satiated. Only his oath kept the fragile hold he had from turning his hunger on the men within his army. Not now. He needed to deal with this altercation before others broke out in the city. Taking a deep, calming breath, he stared at the men.
Afraid of losing his tenuous control, he turned to look at Duxon.
His commander stepped forward. “My King?”
“Take these men. Strip them of their rank within the army. Put them to work as guards of the dungeons.”
The two men trembled before him, though streaks of red splashed their cheeks, showing their anger. One of the men’s eyes flickered with distaste. Lukar darted forward, grabbed him by the neck, and lifted him until his face was an inch away. A growl surfaced, and he bared his teeth in a snarl. “You are lucky I don’t kill you now for your insolence. Not only have you disobeyed my command, you now dare disagree with your punishment? You have disgraced me and your fellow warriors. For that, you no longer deserve the title.”
Lukar tossed him away from him. The others looked down at the man with disgust. He ordered, “Relieve the man of all his weapons. Put him to work with the servants. Keep him out of my sight.”
One of the officers bowed. “Yes, My King.”
Lukar’s guards flanked him as he strode back toward the castle without a backward glance.
Duxon cleared his throat. “The warriors will spread the word of the consequences of fighting amongst themselves, especially when in sight of the Gharran people. It will not happen again.”
Sighing, Lukar shook his head. “Alux should keep an eye out for dissension. I can’t blame the men for their squabbles, but to go against my direct orders will not be overlooked. I’ve no doubt the men are ready to return home. We have been gone for far too long without respite.”
“The men follow your lead.” Duxon shrugged. “Where you go, they will always follow. You’re our king. Semnac has not steered you wrong, and she wants Kureto.”
Lukar chuckled, the sound rusty from disuse. “Yes, she rides me like nothing I have felt before. Once Kureto is ours, we will return home.”
They walked in comfortable silence until they reached the war room. Striding over to the table, Lukar leaned over the map. He heard Colm and Alux join him.
Glancing up from studying the distance between Kureto’s border and Gharra, he asked Colm, “What is the latest update?”
The war advisor gave him a slight bow before pointing to the city wall. “The men have almost completed rebuilding the city gate and surrounding wall. I’m still concerned about the overall strength of the structure, but it should hold against an attack.”
Lukar tilted his head. “Did you determine why the gate cracked like it did?”
Disgust twisted Colm’s lips. “The wood was old. Unlike the other two main gates, the Pyrannis decided to keep the gate for its design rather than for defense. The metal hammered into the gate weakened the wood in three strategic places.”
Alux snorted. “Unbelievable.”
Satisfied, Lukar turned his attention instead to Kureto with a frown. “There has been no word on the ships I sent out?”
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Alux’s features smoothed out, becoming serious once more. “No, My King, but I am not surprised. I expect at least one of the ships to return from scouting the Kurite coastline in the next week or so.”
Lukar nodded, tapping a finger against the table while he thought. “Hm. We cannot invade Kureto until we have more information.”
“Yes,” Colm nodded, “it is why Alux and I ordered the men to capture as many Kurites as possible.”
“Has Tair gathered any useful information from the Pyrannis?”
“You mean what they know about the Kurites?” Colm asked.
Before anyone could respond, Alux shook his head.
Lukar growled. “Why not? Tair extracts information like no other.”
Colm shared a look with Alux before he answered, “I’m not certain. Tair mentioned he would join us later tonight once he finished with one of the men.”
Lukar braced his hands against the table and shoved it to the side with a roar. No one said anything while he prowled the room. By Semnac’s tits, the Kurites were a secretive race. He was fast losing patience with the lack of information on them. Perhaps he should have kept the king and his nobles alive until after they spilled all they knew about the Kurites. Falsely believing Pyran and Malirra would become allies, King Ragnar had imparted a little information before Lukar severed his head from his body. The act was the beginning of a long battle that concluded with the Malirran army conquering Gharra.
Little was known about the Kurite people, and what was known was disjointed and made little sense. The Pyrannis treated the Kurites as if they were a scourge to be eradicated from the land. The scrolls his commanders had found were based on rumors, hearsay. They needed definitive facts, not children’s tales.
He snorted, recalling some of the stories he’d read in the reports. The presence of beasts fighting alongside the Kurites, bespelled by their masters, was inconceivable. Every kingdom had beasts of burden, much like the koti on this continent. But these creatures supposedly fought beside the Kurites, following their orders during a battle. The Malirran army had fought any number of magical races. The Goddess Semnac provided him and his war council the strength and speed necessary to fight their enemies—for a price. He and his advisors ate the flesh of both men and women for their powers, which made him wonder. What if the rumors were based on a semblance of truth?
If the stories about the felines were true, what did the Kurites have to sacrifice to gain control over the animals? And which God or Goddess would give them the means to harness the power within the beasts? For sure, it was a dark magic, a powerful magic if the rumors were true.
Turning to face the three war advisors, he studied them for a moment, deep in thought. Finally, he said, “Send word to Tair to join us as soon as possible. I must know whether he has attained any useful information regarding the Kurites.”
With a bow, Duxon left the room before returning a moment later.
“We need to capture one of the creatures the Kurites treasure,” Lukar stated, walking over to gaze out the window. In the reflection of the glass, he saw Colm cross his arms and frown.
Alux said in a low voice, “None of the Pyrannis have ever captured a paka.”
“Paka?” Colm asked.
Duxon answered, rubbing his neck, “Pakas are what the Kurites call the beasts. I only learned the name myself yesterday. We know even less about the pakas than we do about the Kurites.” He stared down at the table with a frown. “If you think about it, it is strange how little is known about the creatures.”
Lukar remembered the Pyran king, Ragnar, telling him about the felines. Lukar interrupted, “It is why we need to capture one of these pakas. More than one if possible. I don’t know if the rumors are true. But if they are, then the pakas are a weapon no one has ever seen.”
“Why are they so difficult to capture? Didn’t the Pyrannis ever set traps?” Colm asked.
“From what I’ve learned, they are incredibly intelligent and wily. I do not know whether the intelligence is due to the animal or whether the magic used to control these beasts allow for its master to see through its eyes.” Duxon shrugged, looked at Lukar, and warned, “Either way, our men will have difficulty accomplishing such a feat, My King.”
Lukar slid his knife from its sheath and tapped it against the stone wall. He weighed what little knowledge he had against the work ahead of the Malirran army. “I know what you’re thinking, Duxon. There is no reason to split any patrols at this time. Pakas are not in Gharra, so we’ll wait until we enter Kurite lands before we hunt the animals.”
A knock at the door stopped him from saying more. Instead, Lukar shouted, “Enter.”
Tair strode into the room with a grim expression. The blood splattered across his clothes showed he came directly from the torture chamber below. With a short but respectful bow, Tair said, “M—”
Impatient with waiting, Lukar waved away what Tair was about to say. Instead, he commanded with a rasp, “Tell me what you’ve learned, especially about the pakas.”
Tair stiffened. “Unfortunately, not as much as I had hoped. The stories contradict themselves, and the information is vague at best. I don’t know how the Pyrannis have fought an enemy they know so little about. Many of the Pyrannis do not believe the pakas exist, and the ones who do have never fought against them.” The war advisor ran his fingernails across his arms, scratching at the dried blood coated there. “I am beginning to think the tales about the pakas were somehow circulated by the Kurites.”
“Have none of our scouts reported seeing a paka?” Lukar asked, frustration deepening his voice to a growl.
All four of the men across from him shook their heads. Colm pointed at Tair and said, “Rumors arise from truth, though they can often become distorted with each retelling. It’s why I believe they are real. Most myths and stories derive from some kernel of truth. Torture may skew what the Pyrannis know since they want only to save themselves, but they cannot give you words they do not know. Pakas are real. Whether these creatures are capable of what rumors say is still up for debate.”
“Hm,” Lukar hummed. Refocusing on Tair, he asked, “What have you learned about the golden-eyed Kurites.”
Tair sighed. “Such Kurites exist, but the stories conflict. If Colm is right, I’m inclined to believe they are the ones that control the pakas.”
“Tair, that’s twice now that you’ve mentioned that the Pyrannis’ stories conflict.”
“It has to do with the golden-eyed Kurites, My King. A few of the Pyranni warriors I’ve tortured swear they carry magic. Others state that they only control the pakas.
Lukar nodded once. He trusted his war advisors. They had been with him from the beginning, even before he killed the previous Malirran king.
Deep in thought, Duxon shifted from one foot to the other, staring over Lukar’s shoulder. Duxon broke the silence, “If you are set on capturing one, why don’t we attempt to capture its master at the same time?”
Tair nodded in agreement. “It is an interesting idea, but does anyone know how big the pakas are?”
Something in how the man worded his question caught Lukar’s attention. He demanded, “Tell us what you know.”
“If we trust the few warriors who state they’ve had contact with the beasts? They are big, powerful. Two of the Pyranni warriors I spoke with,” Duxon and Colm snorted at Tair’s word choice, “feared them. They believed them evil, a product of dark magic.”
“It is what Ragnar told me before I killed him. I dismissed it at the time. The man was fanatic in his belief about the evil the Kurites possessed.”
“It is a recurring theme with every Pyranni I torture,” Tair agreed, nodding his head while scratching his arm again.
“When we invade Kureto, we must keep in mind they may harness a magic we have never faced before. Tair, have you received any messages from your spies in Kureto?”
“No, but luck might be in our favor this time.”
Colm interrupted, “Why?”
“One of the spies I sent out before the siege never returned. The men that were with him were unable to find any trace of him, alive or dead. It is as if he simply vanished. They found his tracks along with two others. One of my best trackers said it was as if they flew away. Based on the others’ reports, I approximated the area he searched.”
“You think he was killed by the Kurites,” Lukar surmised.
“It makes sense. I sent a ship back to those exact coordinates. I’m certain there is a settlement there. If there is, my men will bring back at least one Kurite.”
Lukar said, “The Kurites live underground. Did your men search for hidden doorways?”
Tair nodded and then scowled. “I asked the same question. The area is covered mostly by rocks and forest. They searched around the entire area where the tracks vanished and found nothing. I will say that there was evidence of a drawn-out fight. My tracker said it was a man and a woman against the assassin.”
Alux’s eyes widened in surprise. “The spy was one of your assassins? And he was killed? They are the best at what they do.”
“I know. It is one more mystery about the Kurites that we cannot answer. It’s why I sent a ship back to the area. I’m certain there is more going on than meets the eye. The ship should return within the next week or so.”
“Why did you not share this information before now?” Lukar demanded.
Tair bowed and admitted, “I wanted to have useful information to share. Until the ship returns, it is all conjecture.”
“You run Malirra’s entire spy network. I’ve no doubt you are right, conjecture or not. Now, the city is almost repaired from the siege and battle. Let’s break and eat. Have everyone else join us so we can plan our next move against Kureto.”
As the others left the room, Lukar returned to his position by the window, staring out over the ocean. Semnac’s sight was set on conquering Kureto. Pyran was merely a stepping stone toward the final prize. What was it about Kureto that his Goddess wanted?