Omrai stepped into the guest tent. The Sendevalian messenger rose from his seat in respect. He wore robes of gold and blue and raised his hand in a sort of stilted wave. A Sendevalian gesture of respect.
Revin waited outside the tent with Omrai’s guards. Close enough to hear, but not close enough for the Sendevalian to see the monk and report his presence back to Jebuthar. The monk should be resting. A medic had given Revin a numbing paste and a pack of bandages.
Omrai turned his attention to the four Ateyan soldiers standing in the corners of the tent, hands on their pommels. They didn’t appreciate a Sendevalian so close to their general. A feeling Omrai understood quite well. It was Sendevalians who’d murdered his father and maimed his brother.
Omrai turned his gaze on the man.
“I am Peacemaker Hedansil,” the man said, “I come with a message from King Den-Davod Valen of Sendeval and Supreme High-lord Jebuthar.”
“Sit down,” Omrai said firmly. The man feigned friendliness, but he hid a certain... eagerness.
The man frowned and sat. Omrai remained standing. The man’s ease disappeared, and his discomfort increased.
“I am here to discuss your surrender, to ensure your people’s safety,” the man said.
Omrai cocked his head, staring down the man.
“My surrender? Sendeval knows better than most that Ateyans don’t roll over and expose their innards,” Omrai said.
“These are not Sendeval’s demands, but Supreme High-lord Jebuthar’s. He is wise beyond measure,” the Peacemaker said. “It would also be wise, for you to surrender immediately.”
Omrai paused, looked at the man... There was something… odd happening at a deeper level within him. Some emotion that moved beneath the surface, one that the Peacemaker wanted hidden.
Omrai frowned and narrowed his eyes. “I am willing to negotiate terms of peace, but I will not surrender to anyone.”
The messenger’s smile had violence behind it. “Jebuthar demands control of your nation, your personal imprisonment to ensure his rule, and the giving of all the lands of your eastern tribe to Sendeval for further development. He also demands the imprisonment of your brother. Your current government will be dissolved, and new leaders will be assigned by Jebuthar himself. He will not budge on a single point.”
Omrai nodded his head. “Then we have nothing more to discuss.” Omrai stepped toward the tent entrance and opened the flap. He motioned for the man to leave.
“Do you know what will happen if you don’t surrender?” the messenger said, not standing. His brow furrowed and his tone took on a slight sense of urgency. “I’m sure you’ve heard reports. His armies’ prowess on the field of battle? There will be no victory against him.”
“Go back and tell your master I reject his demands,” Omrai snapped, motioning again for the door.
The messenger frowned and let out a tense breath, “He will not like that answer. And you will not like the consequences of that answer.”
Omrai paused. The man’s hands were beginning to tremble. He tried to look calm, but there was obviously tension at the edge of his lip...a tremble in the center of his brow. Omrai tuned his senses to the man’s emotional state. There was, of course, disdain for Ateya. But he finally pinned down the undercurrent.
Terror.
Omrai let go of the flap and turned fully to the seated Sendevalian. “You’re afraid of him.”
The messenger was quiet.
“What did he do?”
For a long moment, the messenger didn’t speak. Then, after a long breath, he finally spoke. His voice was quiet, a mixture of anger and despair. “High General, you know we have no love for Ateya, how much we would enjoy watching you finally conquered, your pride laid low.” The man closed his eyes, let out a steadying breath, and rubbed his brow. “But, when Jebuthar came to us, we rejected him as well. We fought…”
He opened his eyes and looked at Omrai. “You have never seen such a slaughter. For every metal warrior destroyed, we lost a thousand men. I only saw the aftermath… A stampede of ceratops or ankylos could not have caused such suffering, such carnage.”
Omrai frowned. One enemy casualty for every thousand of their own?
The Peacemaker continued. “After your men die in agony, and you are utterly defeated, you will surrender. You will give in to his demands. Not out of weakness, but to save the lives of your people.”
Omrai’s hands tightened into fists. “Get out,” Omrai said. He didn’t believe a word of it. “Tell Jebuthar his boasting won’t get him out of a battle. If he wants Ateya, he’ll have to take it.”
The man stood, and the soldiers in the corners drew their swords. The Peacemaker didn’t take a step. He only met Omrai’s eyes. “We weren’t the first nation to defy him. Volisna was. Now, I don’t think a man older than eighteen still lives on their island.”
Omrai’s eyes widened. He’d heard reports they had been conquered but didn’t believe them. Though the Volisnans had few saurians, they were mighty warriors, each three times stronger than an Ateyan.
“Kelasu, Mirhaden, and Vurfhaden have already sworn to follow him after seeing what happened to our armies. Koyeji is in talks with him too. Soon your borders will be filled with nations following Jebuthar and fueling his war machine. You cannot stand against him.”
“Leave, now,” Omrai said.
The Peacemaker gave a bow and exited the tent.
He believed Ateya didn’t have a chance. What sort of man felt he could tell Omrai Speartip, general of an army that had never surrendered, to surrender unconditionally?
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Who was this Jebuthar?
✦✦✦
After the strange man had left, Omrai called Revin into the tent. Revin entered. Omrai stood, leaning against a desk, his brow wrinkled in tension and his lips forming a deep frown. A look Revin had seen on his own father time and time again.
“How do we fight this?” Omrai said, shaking his head. “Jebuthar has powers I’ve never seen.”
“I have seen them,” Revin said. Omrai turned to him. “I use some daily. Back when we were ambushed, I was trying to tell you he has a monk like me.”
Omrai cocked his head, “How are flying ships and metal warriors like Beastspeaking?”
“All I know is that he is using beastpeaking to control them, somehow. I’ve got similar powers; they must be of some use to you! You could be my Trial-Lord!” Revin winced and held on to his chest. Best not to get too excited.
Omrai cocked his head. “This sounds different than what you explained before.”
“If I choose a Lord, I’ll be able to communicate with many more beasts. Near and far.”
Omrai paused, his eyes narrowing in thought. “I could use your powers to coordinate my troops.” Now Omrai’s eyes widened with blooming ideas. “You could master the mounts of my commanders. Give the order to advance or retreat.”
“And, once you’re my Trial-Lord, you and I will be able to communicate telepathically.”
Omrai gave him a strange look. “Telepa-… What does that mean?”
“It means we can speak with our minds,” Revin said, his smile widening.
Omrai frowned and held up his hand. “You said, Trial-Lord. So, is this is a non-permanent arrangement?” Omrai said.
“Yeah,” Revin said, “It’s a weaker connection than Life-Lord, but it’ll work.”
“Would your abilities be more limited?”
“I’ve… never had a Trial-Lord,” Revin said. “So, we won’t know how until we try.”
Omrai looked where the peacemaker had gone. “You’re asking me to place a great amount of trust in you. How do I know if that trust is well-placed?” Omrai turned to Revin, his brow forming a hard line, his piercing gaze unflinching.
Revin shrank under that gaze of steel. He breathed, clenching his fists. “I can’t prove it, but I don’t want Jebuthar taking your land, ‘cause mine is next. Narazoth was a monk of my order. The other monks refuse to step up and get involved. I can’t just sit and watch.”
Omrai silent for a few long moments. “You’re overconfident and naïve, but I think you’re sincere.” Omrai nodded. “Let’s do it. At the very least, you could help me understand my enemy, give me an advantage the other nations didn’t have.”
A messenger walked into the tent. Causing Revin to jump. The man saluted and said, “May my service lift you.”
“And you also,” Omrai said, “What is it?”
“The Peacemaker left a message.” He pulled out a sheet of paper.
Omrai nodded for him to read.
“High General Speartip, I finish my message with your servant. High Lord Jebuthar and Princess Densal Valen of Sendeval request your audience. We will meet at Spire Point in two weeks. You will accept the terms of surrender. There will be no armies brought to this occasion. Only discussion.”
He rolled up the paper and looked at Omrai expectantly.
“Thank you, you may leave.”
With a bow, the man left.
Omrai looked surprised. “It seems he wants to try talking again.”
“Maybe he thinks he can persuade you.”
“That would be convenient. Conquest without combat.” Omrai shook his head, “It seems war is inevitable.”
“Then let’s do something,” Revin said, “let me make you my Trial-Lord, and let’s stop this war. Together.”
Omrai nodded. “So, how does this work?”
Revin’s eyes widened. “You want to do this now?”
“Yes,” Omrai said. He called out to several guards and directed them to stand watch in the corners. Revin gulped. He did guess there was no time like the present, but a spike of doubt pierced his thoughts. Did he really want to swear himself now? To this man?
Revin looked at Omrai, who stared back expectantly. Revin took a deep breath. “Ok, you’ll need a chair.”
Omrai grabbed a chair and moved it to the center of the tent. He sat in it immediately.
“Now, wait,” he said, turning up to meet Revin’s gaze. “Will you be able to read my thoughts?”
Revin thought back to discussions with his parents and shook his head. “No, only what you send me.”
Omrai turned forward and placed his arms in his lap. How was this man so confident?
“I’ve never done this,” Revin said with a shaking voice.
“I know.”
“I just want to do it right.”
Omrai turned in his seat and looked up at Revin. “Revin, if you falter, we can try again. Just do it.”
Revin nodded. Omrai looked forward.
Revin breathed in another deep, nervous breath, and exhaled slowly. He was quiet for a long moment. Revin placed his hands on the top of Omrai’s head.
Revin took another deep breath, this time much calmer. He spoke slowly, enunciating his words sharply. “By the power of Sephitaro given to man, I confer the connection of Trial-Lord, you shall be my Lord, until you or I pass from this world or until you or I decide that you are not.”
Revin felt a buzz in his head. “We shall be connected in mind,” Revin continued, “and by the unity of our wills we will be connected in power. Thus, it is.”
Revin felt a burst in his mind, like a doorway opening and a great gush of cold wind. His thoughts rushed faster than ever before. As if his mind had just rediscovered a lost part of itself.
He initiated mental contact with Omrai, the cognitive closeness was awkward.
Revin relaxed and thought towards Omrai, “Looks like it worked.”
He heard Omrai speak back in his head. “It looks like it did.”
Revin smiled. Omrai stood and turned to Revin.
“Now what do we do?” Omrai said out loud.
“Now, we figure out how to stop Jebuthar and Narazoth,” Revin said with a smile. “Easy.”
Omrai squinted and analyzed Revin, his brow furrowed in concentration, “I feel like I know you. That we didn’t just meet a few days ago.”
Revin smiled, “There is a tether between our minds. This is different than connecting with animals.”
Revin focused. He felt empowered, but he also felt restricted. Omrai had random blocks. Were those his morals and opinions? Revin had more power, but these could prove to be limitations.
“I need to understand your tactics, how you use saurians and how you coordinate your army’s movements,” Revin said.
Omrai nodded. “Yes,” he said, smiling, “This just might be the edge we need.”
✦✦✦
Kaiato cleaned his barrel, shoving the ramrod down the shaft with a wad of cloth and pushing it out the other side. Packed bits of powder fell to the floor. His rifle sat disassembled on his bedroll. Omrai and Revin were off chatting. They were doing that more and more frequently and leaving Kaiato behind.
It was something that shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did. But not nearly so much as what Revin had told him about the Peacemaker. Kaiato scoffed at the title. The Peacemaker was who Sendevalians sent to demand surrender. They stopped sending them to Koyeji when a Koyejian general slew one for offending him.
But why would Koyeji ever ally with anybody? Especially Jebuthar, who demands he rule his allies? It didn’t make sense. He didn’t know Prince Siroki well, but Johuto, Kaiato’s older sister, did. And she would have laughed at the concept of the prince handing the kingdom over. Lord Staiwaki, the former high lord’s second in command, wouldn’t have stood for it either. They were Koyejian, leaders with dignity.
He wished he were home. He wished he were with his sister, watching her fight the great carnivores and then going with her to the after-parties which made military soirees look like peasant festivals. He even missed sitting on a tree-watch, his legs hanging over the elevated platform, out at the edge of the Narrow Valley, searching for the movements of Ateyan, Fornarian, or Sendevalian soldiers. Listening to the soft patter of rain on the trees above him and the forest floor beneath. The sunsets were breathtaking, the soft moan of saurians lent Ateya such a mysterious and ominous aura.
He looked at his weapon, his backup. The one he’d taken since his had been stolen and used to murder the High Lord. He would be teaching the Ateyans about them. Kaiato was no gunsmith, but he could fix his own rifle and could craft new bullets as needed. Something that could get him killed.
He felt a sickening knot tighten in his chest and stomach. He wanted to run. To escape the inky black feeling of betrayal.
He was a traitor to his own people.