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Jatendra's Saga
Chapter 2: Stupid Politics

Chapter 2: Stupid Politics

That night, me and the boys all threw a huge party in the town’s only inn/tavern. Using the rice wine that was intended to be included in Ealing’s taxes, of course.  Some villagers showed up, but not all, and those that did show up were leaving. They had work to do in the morning and being taken over  by bandits won't keep the insects from ruining your crops. My plan to build friendship had failed.

“Boss, we should kill one! It sets an example. How dare they spit in your face by not drinking with you?!” The man at my left roared. Ike Volstad. He was one of my main supporters, and  a long time friend. He was a huge man, a wall of armor and muscle. He stood at least a head over me, and I was already considered large among men, but he was still young, the chance for growth had not yet passed. When I took the clan, he was the main physical force that gave strength to my claim. No one wanted to piss off my Left Hand. Except maybe one.

“Calm yourself.  If he were to do that,  then they would hate us. The whole point of this little gathering is to make them like us. Or have you forgotten?” said the man to my right, shooting my Left Hand a sidelong glare.  

“You callin me stupid?”

“No, but  if that's what you understood out of my words, then perhaps-”

“Enough.” I said, bringing an end the the quarrel that would have certainly ended in fists and blood, as they had so often before. “Ike, we're not killing anyone. Rohan is right.”

Rohan smirked slyly at Ike, another small victory achieved in their sea of conflict that they've been filling since we were boys.  It was odd that they always quarrelled so. As a Zenry,  the son of the Volstads should have been one of Rohan’s greatest supporters. But apparently, ever since  Ike Volstad and Rohan Zenry met, they've hated each other.

Being honest, I could understand why. Rohan had the tendency to be  a bit of an asshole, a tendency  he no doubt inherited from his father, Roark. He was still nowhere near as bad as Roark. If you could keep him amused, he was fine, but Roark would resort to blades over the most minor of offences. I'd once seen him cut a man’s pinky off for  telling him to hurry and go; a band of mercenary reinforcements were coming. No one interrupts Roark Zenry when he’s raping and pillaging. Or rather, no one did.

It was after that very raid that I challenged him. He had hurt his ankle earlier in the clash, and though he had played it off well, though no one else could see it, I knew he was vulnerable.  It was still a very hard fight. He couldn't go on the offensive, or do that weird thing his family does. I  didn't understand what it was at the time, but it made him stronger, and a lot faster, so if he could've, it would've been over in a second.  He was still a strong bastard without it, and better with a sword than I was. But he had aged,  and while age hadn't sapped his strength, it had certainly affected his stamina. That, combined with the ankle wound, and a hidden knife up my sleeve sealed my victory.

After that, the clan was split on whether or not I could actually lead it. There was a rule that allowed the head of the Zenry bandit clan to be chosen by battle, but that rule was made for rival Zenry brothers, men BORN into the clan. Not recruits like myself. Then Ike backed me. That sealed the young vote. No one wanted to risk offending Ike, I know I sure as hell wouldn't. The older  ones however, did not share  this same fear. At that pace, the clan was at risk of fracturing, as so many bandit clans do. 70 years of bloody history destroyed in under an hour.

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Then, Rohan Zenry pulled me aside. He said he would back me under four conditions: first, that he would be my Right Hand and under no circumstances would he be ordered around like a lackey. Second, that I had a plan for us moving forward. Third, that I not ask him questions about why he's on my side. Lastly, I was not to bury his father’s body, I was to leave it for the vermin. That partially answered why he was on my side; he hated his father. Needless to say, I agreed.  I would only find out years later, that was only part of it.

Many were surprised when both of us returned. I would learn that apparently, there was a  huge bet that  Rohan would stab me in the back(literally) after we talked. Not that he would need to; he was my equal in a fight but that's only when he’s not being deathly serious. Almost everyone was highly disappointed. But, Rohan announced his support for me, earning me the support of the old guard. Ike didn't like not being my Right Hand, but he eventually understood. Thus my rule was sealed.

And here I sat, surrounded by the squabbling, near-drunk fools.  I knew I better say what I’d planned now, before they got too drunk to understand a word.  They were already getting louder and louder.

“Alright boys, it's time I…" I looked over the hall and to my lack of surprise, no one was listening to me. I sighed. You can't just be civil with bandits.

" HEY, LISTEN AND SHUT THE FUCK UP YA WHORESON BASTARDS!" I bellowed, throwing my ox horn mug at some fool who had taken to dancing on the table. I had their attention now.

"Yeah, that's better. When I speak, you fuckers listen. It's time you boys know why we bothered with this mountain village in the first place. When we raid, what is it usually for? Supplies! We're wanted men, the lot of us, we can't just go into a sizeable town and buy what we need, and like hell we fucking would! We take what's ours aint that right boys?!”

“YAHHHHH!!!!!”

“That's what I thought! Now, that being said, we spend half our time  hunting down tax wagons and food traders, making sure we're fed. Now I don't know about you boys, but i'm tryin to get filthy fuckin rich! We can't do that if we got to worry bout just surviving all the time. Not only that, but Grandy’s gettin old, he’s been old. He can't keep taking care of our weapons by himself, he shouldn’t have to.

“Aye, but what if we didn't have to worry bout any of that? That's why we took this town! If they provide all the food, shelter and upkeep, that lets us focus on what really matters: the coin. Finally, we can live like lords, and anyone who don't like it, well they can have a taste of our cold hard bronze!” I shouted, drawing my sword. The men rose from their seats , roaring and cheering, drawing swords.

“Wait! Wait wait wait…  The villagers are just going to go along with this little plan?”  a  long haired youth interjected from a corner. Of course. I should have known the pretty boy would have something to say.  Lex Rindad, of the Rindad family, former Right Hands to the greater Zenry clan. When I took power,  the Zenry heir became the Right Hand, but the Volstad heir remained the Left Hand, which meant that he no longer held a position of power within the clan. So of course, he has been opposing me on every move. There was the option to kill Lex, but he was too skilled a fighter to give up. That, and like the Zenry and the Volstads, he had an odd power that I couldn't quite understand. It wasn't magic, but when he thrust his spear the attack could shatter nearly any shield.  That was not something I wanted to fight.

“They fear death, so yes, yes they will. Naturally, we’ll offer them our protection as well.” I said warily. He was plotting something.

“So, what you mean to say, is that we of the proud Zenry clan… are to be glorified bodyguards to common peasants.” And there it was. The other men drew back at this, and began muttering amongst themselves. Lex looked up at me, and there was  just a hint of a smile on his face, a gleam in his eyes. Smug asshole. I wasn't going to let him take this opportunity from me, from us.

“No. We are going to rule these common peasants, offering protection so that they don't die on us. Now if anyone has a problem with my choice, they can approach us.” I said, rising to my feet. As I did so, Ike and Rohan did the same. Everyone immediately  sat back down, even Lex, as he attempted to hide his rage. Even he didn't want quarrel with all three of us. But his damage had already been done.  Only a minute or so of dialogue had ruined the night, and planted doubts of my leadership- my relatively fresh leadership- that wouldn't go away as quickly as it came. In less than  an hour, we had mostly vacated the main hall for our beds in awkward silence.To this day, I marvel at what power words have.

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