Bertram's Tale (one of my few delvings into first person. Get it while it's hot!)
The trees grew close in that part of the world, giant oaks, rowans, pale topped trees I'd never seen before. I know that even further east they grow larger and denser. We weren't even that far out, as far as those things go. The mission was one of those things that's supposed to paint you in gold glory, a Wyld Hunt for an Anathema who'd stolen the moon power, a wily shifter. I certainly didn't know how long the thing had been rampaging, but it and some allies got a bit too close to one of the few protectorates that the Realm has out in the Scavenger Lands. Given what happened after we caught the thing, Daymar and I, I can't even recall exactly how we caught and killed it. I know we lost quite a few troops. Turns out, it was the least of our worries.
Under the command of Tepet Chazi, Tulia's father, you know, we'd set camp in a clearing we literally had to make. It was General Chazi, Daymar, a mere Lieutenant in those days, a sorcerer named Sholdaza, and myself, plus a full talon of Chazi's mortal legion and a handful of servants that set out there. I suppose the real tale begins when Daymar and I dragged back the body through the trees along game paths. I remember then feeling like we were being watched.
A great cheer went up as we came in and dropped the broken thing right in the center of the cramped camp. We were tired, very tired, and all I wanted was a rest. Daymar would never say anything, but he was tired as I was. The fight wasn't easy. I motioned over my personal servant and scribe. Helidah wasn't fit for the kind of tramping around we had to do, but she was a mortal niece by an elder brother of mine, already dead of age, and I had wanted someone I knew I could trust. Later, she would appear to be my wife's woman, but not at that time. Even then, my niece was going gray, and she struggled. But before I could get dinner and everything else, General Chazi called us to his tent.
“The job's done, Lord General, ” I ventured as Chazi motioned Daymar and I to sit. He wasn't a big man, more short and slight and bald as an egg, though that lack of hair was made up for in the bushy eyebrows that perched over dark, piercing eyes. My eyes were so drawn to him that I failed, at first, to notice that Sholdaza was already present, the slight, wispy woman in wholly impractical thin silks standing in one corner, lighting a brazier. Of course, the thin silks could have been explained by the badly kept secret that she and the general were lovers.
Chazi merely grunted in response until Daymar and I were both settled in camp chairs of our own. Sholdaza joined us on a pile of cushions, looking both languid and enigmatic at the same time. Finally, Chazi spoke in his voice like two stones rubbed together, “Congratulations, boys. People will be talking about you for a long time.” The praise made me smile. It didn't last. “However, the job's only half done.”
I turned my head a fraction, just enough to see Daymar's eyebrow shoot up, a reflection of me. “Sir?”
“I want its allies destroyed. I don't want them causing any more trouble.” Chazi cleared his throat, doing nothing for the gravelly sound.
I found myself blinking. “But they didn't fight for it. I doubt they'll be much of a problem now.”
Chazi scowled at me. “Are you questioning me, Bertram?”
I shook my head very quickly. “No, sir.”
The whole time Daymar had just been sitting there, frowning thoughtfully. “I think,” he finally began, “what my cousin means to say is that we're not certain they were allies. The Ardacks are a small tribe and it very well could be that the Anathema frightened them into rendering succor to him. They obviously weren't willing to die for him.”
Chazi waved his hand. “At best, they're heretics. I want them either dead or in service. It shouldn't take long. Women, children, all of them. I'm not going to get called out to this forsaken place to take care of them when they find some other way to cause trouble.”
Daymar leaned forward. “I don't agree.” I had the sudden sinking feeling in my stomach of one being inexorably drawn into the middle of something. “If it did use fear, we should be the more enlightened beings we're supposed to be and show mercy.”
“How dare you.” Spittle flew from Chazi's mouth.
“I'm not in your legion and I'm not married to your daughter, so I can dare.” Daymar did spare me a rather sympathetic look. Not so Chazi. His look demanded a response. All I could do was shrug.
“But I have this command,” Chazi said in a low, dangerous voice. I knew this one. Tulia did the same thing sometimes. I wanted to warn Daymar, but he caught on.
“I'll do what's ordered,” Daymar said after a long, tense pause. “But under protest.”
“Doesn't matter.” Chazi waved his hand again. “Neither of you will have to do anything. I'll send the men out. They should be able to handle it.” I found myself letting out a breath.
“Simple enough matter,” Shodaza parroted, voice soft.
With that, it was clear we were dismissed. Chazi did exactly what he said, sending out about half of the normal troops that very day while I was resting in my own tent with Helidah. She went about her tasks with a pale, frightened face, but didn't say anything until I asked.
“I just don't think it's right killing helpless women and children. I know their girls don't fight.” Her voice was soft.
“We do what we must.” I couldn't let her see that I was just as troubled as she.
“You…you won't…?”
“Not if I can help it.” It seemed to be enough for her. “Daymar says that Chazi just wants to heap glories as much as possible, and this will do it, since we got the Anathema. That's quite enough for me.”
It took three days for word to come in. Shortly after dawn, two men and a woman stumbled back in, every scrap of clothing torn and bloody. Chazi called Daymar and me to the tent again. There was no need to summon Shodaza. She was already there, silks thinner than normal. We all sat to listen to the report.
“Speak, then.” Chazi wanted to hear them one at a time. This one was the woman, first for being lest hurt than the other two. I remember her being a solid, stalwart type, but that day, she was drawn and trembling. “How goes our victory?” The whole appearance seemed to be lost on Chazi. “How far back are the others?”
“There are no others, sir.” The woman spoke very softly. “They're all dead.”
“What happened?” I asked, the shock in my voice reflected on every other face.
“What did those barbarians do?” Chazi asked.
“It…it wasn't the people, sirs. We found a group not long after setting out of here and engaged them. It didn't take long. After that, we set camp. About…about midnight…” The woman started shaking harder. “I woke up with the watch screaming in pain. The moon and stars were all blotted out by this great mass of birds, all of them black like crows.”
“Ridiculous. Crows are carrion eaters. They don't attack people.” Chazi scowled.
“They weren't normal. Big old stormcrows, and smart. There was this one big one…I think it was a raven, maybe, like a stormraven, only…it commanded them. The birds tore everyone apart. Nik, Torren, and I just barely got out. We had to tell you.” Finally, the woman just broke. I felt a chill travel up my spine, but tried not to show anything. Daymar wore his characteristic thoughtful look. Sholdaza gave away nothing. Chazi however, did not believe a word of it. At least, not until Nik and Torren reported the same things.
“A spirit.” Sholdaza offered at the end, calmly, twisting a great ruby around on her finger. “Some sort of protector spirit. I will go and see to it.”
And so Sholdaza left with all the confidence of everyone in her accomplished abilities. Daymar and I both had a very bad feeling about the whole thing as we conferred later, alone. But we waited to see.
Midday on the third day after Sholdaza left found Daymar and I around a cookfire, waiting for Helidah to finish the stew. Our scene was repeated all over the common areas of the camp, sounds of games and laughter floating to us. Something wet hit my shoulder. At first I thought it rain, but the sky was clear, sun beating down on our little clearing. I reached up and touched the spot and my fingers came away red. “What the…?”
I didn't have time to finish my question. I looked up and saw a black bird, and then another. I turned to Daymar, who now also had little red droplets on his shoulders. Helidah screamed, a sound echoed by all other servants and no few soldiers. The sky darkened with hundreds of wings and droplets were replaced with chunks that hit the tents and ground with splatting and squishing noises. Everywhere around, archers brought up bows to shoot at the birds, but the clamoring stormcrows didn't attack. They just kept dropping the red chunks all round us.
As suddenly as they appeared, the birds were gone, only their presents and a few carcasses to show they had been there. We finally got a look around. Daymar bent over and picked something up and brought it to me, answering my unfinished question. “Sholdaza.” His find was a whole finger, severed but still bedecked with a large ruby. Helidah went behind the tent and retched loudly. “I don't guess her meeting went well.”
After that, Chazi's passion to destroy the tribe intensified, despite the fact that the birds took more and more every time. There was nothing neither Daymar nor I could do about it. Now we were honor bound to get those that took the life of Sholdaza, though we both knew that there was only one outcome if we did. Both sides would most likely be ruined utterly. We two are still considered the best strategists around, so it was then though others were slow to recognize, and so we put our minds to it. It was decided that the remainder of our forces would be split into three, the theory being that the birds couldn't take all of us. One would get through. So I took the left flank, Daymar the right, and Chazi would go straight down the middle and thereby take the encampment of the tribe. Chazi took the spot he considered the most glory. He said it was his right.
I never made it to engage the tribals. A little over a day out, the birds attacked, the giant raven right in the fore. I still wake sometimes hearing the screams of my men as they were torn apart. The spirit itself dived right at me. I barely had time to raise my blade and get my arm over my face. Had I not, beak and talon would have found my face. As it was, I knew pain. The bird was smart, finding the exact place where jade would not stop it, the vulnerable spot between gauntlet and greeves. Its great beak broke flesh, broke bone, and I fell back, feeling my death. Other birds began pecking at me, breaking me. I tried fighting, and my wood anima kept back the normal birds, but not the spirit. Black spots floated in my vision as I felt my arm completely separate. Before I passed out, I thought I heard a voice.
Miraculously, I did wake again. I lay in a place between trees, a skin of a great cat cushioning me. I remember trying to lift my right arm and finding only fire and pain in the stump that remained, though at the same time I still thought I could feel the fingers. I must have groaned, because immediately I was attended to and first saw the face of my savior.
She had the grace of a hunting cat as she dropped her tall, hard frame cross-legged beside me. Callused fingers delicately put a skin of water to my lips. “Drink,” she said, voice thick and low, heavily accenting bastard Riverspeak. I didn't at first, watching the lean, sun browned face and eyes like midday sky. It was her clothes that gave me pause, the soft leather vest and pants of the tribe. Her bark brown hair was in two thick braids on either side of her head, wound through with beads of wood and shell, and the vest was painted with birds, marking her important in the tribe we'd marked as enemy. Even so, I could not help but to think her beautiful. She snorted at my hesitance, a most unladylike sound. “If I wanted you dead, I would have left you to the Morghest.” I drank of the warm water with some sort of herbal tang to it. Almost immediately, I could feel some of the pain wane.
“I had to take more of the arm. Sometimes, she corrupts the wounds.” The tribal woman pulled the waterskin from my lips. “But you will get better, dragon man. The stump is clean.”
“Thank you.” It was the only thing I could think of to say. She responded with a wary look. “I'm Cathak Bertram. A...warrior, a planner for warriors. I keep history too.”
“You are dragon man. You heal quick.”
“Yes. I am chosen of the wood dragon, though my family is fire.” I didn't know what words she knew, so I kept it simple, and hoped for forgiveness.
“No fire without wood.” She smiled for the first time, teeth surprisingly white and straight.
“Just so.” I smiled back.
She cocked her head to one side. “I am Mehtar Lada, Sensari of the Ardack people. I am princess and priestess.” I must have given her a confused look before she added the last.
“Why?” I finally asked. “Why did you save me? It was you I heard, wasn't it?”
Lada's head dropped and her whole being spoke sadness. “Too much death. Your people kill mine, your people die. So you kill more of mine, and more of yours die. It must stop. For you, there are others. For us, we are the last.”
“You told it to stop hurting me. Why can't…?”
“I put you under my protection. I cannot do for all. Don't worry, dragon man. Just the Morgest must believe.” She sighed deeply. “We were not always as you see. Once, we had great city and ruled nations. The Morghest was protector, fought for us, noble spirit. She fought the dragon men then and drove them back, but….” Her brows drew together as she searched for words. “Others came. The beautiful madness in shiny armor.”
“The Shining Host…Faeries. And call me Bertram.”
She nodded. “Where our city was now is madness, and so was the Morghest driven mad as she fought them. Since…we cannot control her, only suggest, plead. She keeps old oaths, but in her own ways. She protects, avenges, but will not hear us unless we can get her attention. Now, too far, too much. I am last priest, and cannot do enough. I have to beg you to stop what you do so she will stop.”
“You got the wrong man, Lada.” I felt sad for Lada and her people, but what I spoke was true. “Our leader won't listen to me.”
She put her long fingered hand on my shoulder then. “Your people took our chief, my father, so the Morghest took yours. Right before she went for you.”
I wondered briefly how I was going to explain this to Tulia. It was the oddest thing to think of as the chill settled into my gut. Then I thought of the other. “Daymar. The other dragon man, is he…?”
“Fine. He held back.” Smart man, I thought as she spoke. Salvaged his own men knowing all else was lost. He always did say that sometimes one has to break the rules. If only I had done the same. I let out a breath.
“Then he is in charge.”
“Will he listen? If I get my people to speak? Will he and the rest meet?”
“I…think so.”
“Meet me here, then, when you get answer.” She gave me fresh poultices and drink…and directions back…then disappeared into the trees.
Daymar embraced me when I returned, and Helidah fainted when she saw my loss. Both were happy, though, for they had given me up for dead when I did not return. At the first possible moment, I took Daymar into the camp and relayed all that Lada had told me. He, as usual, frowned thoughtfully for a good long time, rubbing at the stubble on his chin. “Are you certain of this woman?” He asked at last. “It could be a trap.”
“Why should she save my life only to lie? No, I'm certain of her.”
He raised one eyebrow at me and searched my face with his eyes. “Are you certain you are clear on this?”
I swallowed and nodded. Daymar agreed to the meet.
It took two days to arrange. In the meantime, we lost a few more men, those we sent out to hunt, to the birds. Daymar almost cancelled, though he was willing to believe that the Morghest thought the armed men a threat. Finally, though, the remnants of the Hunt stood face to face with the bedraggled remnants of the tribe. Most were elderly, or very young, sick or injured. I wondered if it wasn't already too late.
Then, Lada stepped forward. Her vest was plain now, and braids unadorned. She stood straight, face utterly blank. She gave us a bow of her head, then turned to her people, saying a few things I didn't understand. The assembled tribe gasped, and one small girl stepped forward and held out her hands. Lada gave the girl her painted vest and a handful of beads, then turned back to us. Daymar asked me what was happening, and I could only shrug. Finally Lada approached.
“This is what must be.” She fell to her knees in the dirt. “To save my people, I give myself. To save others from the Morgest, I give myself. I am last priest now, until others grow to take my place.”
Daymar and I exchanged looks, and he spoke. “We don't understand, priestess.”
“If you agree, dragon men. My presence and bond will protect you if you let me live. My people will leave the lands of the dragon men and never return if they will not be hunted again. Others will take my place in the tribe, and you will not be bothered again once that is done.”
Daymar frowned, and I felt a little ill. “You understand, priestess, that if you come with us, you will have to live as a slave. We all will have to keep the secret of the bird spirit, otherwise those not bound by this promise will come for you, and it all begins again.”
“I understand. I will be what I must.” I could tell it pained her, and Lada's sacrifice touched me. Daymar did not seem unaffected by too.
“I'll take her,” I said, in a rush.
Daymar peered at me for a moment before nodding once. “So be it.” He turned to the remainder of the soldiers. None of them objected, all wanting to put all this behind them as quickly as possible. So the tribe wept, and our people packed as I took Lada by the hand and gave her into Helidah's keeping.
Officially, Chazi and Sholdaza, along with a large number of soldiers, died at the hands of the Anathema. Daymar and I were highly recognized for our role, including getting a personal letter from the Empress herself. We said nothing of the Morgest, and I did my best to give Lada a good life under the constraints I had. Daymar and I hardly spoke after that beyond what was needed for duty. He never wanted to hear of Lada. He stiffened up every time I tried.
And I gave her a child. Tulia did not know the truth of things, and she angry and reluctantly presented the child as hers. I know she would have done something stupid otherwise. For some reason, she was jealous of Lada, probably because the slave managed a child before her.
I returned from acting in the only capacity I can now, advisor to the legions, to hear that Lada had died birthing a second child, and I thought it was over forever. Why the Morgest has returned, I don't know. I can only speculate that something has happened to the tribe and now it is drawn to Lada's blood. Forgive me.