The Windcaster [Fantasy/Adventure | Featured | Complete ]

Chapter 36: Urgent Summons

Tia waited atop the tower, shifting her feet on the uneven stone blocks and biting her lips. It all seemed so unreal. She had spent most of her life in quaint Mooncliffe and the only conflict she had known until that point was with Mommu for delegation of duties and for second helpings of food. It was surreal to know that people would die in masses in the upcoming days or weeks. The slaves and soldiers on horseback she watched marching away to the southwest were going to die. She didn't know any of them and didn't know how to feel about them marching to their graves

It was like a dream; a horrifying one, knowing that they will be killing other humans.

Master Marduk had always been one strict with rules and persevering with punishment. In spite of his cruelty and adamance in giving rule-breakers "what is deserved", she could see the rationalisation: he was merely reinforcing the laws that were in place. If a crime was committed, one must pay the price for one's actions, whether the crime was thievery assault or skiving from duties.

Assault was always punishable in Dernexes, and yet here they were, carrying out a mass assault of their very own. It was very ironic.

Master Marduk had trained Tia to have adequate knowledge regarding politics and military strategies, so she had a small idea of what plans King Ea and the generals had in mind. The Dernexan army was greater in size and better trained and resourced than the Gwentian army, although Gwent had the greater population. Nevertheless, even that paled next to Mawlin, in the northwest.

She was also required to have sufficient knowledge regarding the neighbouring countries of Dernexes, including the now-extinguished Dormis to the south and the family history of King Lahar, the current King of Gwent and son of King Nintu II who had orchestrated the first Great War.

Poor Dormis, she thought, gazing into the distance. The despair gnawed at her every time she thought of how the lenient King Nintu I could have had a son so vicious and bloodthirsty, and from the king's historian's notes, it seemed the grandson, now King Lahar, was an exact replicate of his father, hungry for war and thirsty for blood. I am glad I would never have to live amongst those barbarians.

Beyond the fortress, there was little but derelict land and sand, littered with broken stones and wilted plantation. She couldn't see Gwent from this distance, but it sounded a derelict, deprived, ill-resourced country.

The dried riverbed alongside the fortress was empty, as usual. It was the vulnerable point to bypass the fortress, but with the high towers overlooking, it was impossible to manoeuvre without being spotted. There were more rocks along the bottom, which weren't there earlier on that day; no doubt another avalanche had occurred.

From the highest point of Ptarmigan Fortress, she could see the sloped terraces of residencies with skinny chimneys poking between the slanted roofs. The houses within the fortress were built on an inclined slope, upon the hill that made the heart of the city impossible to storm. Narrow, steep walkways weaved in and out – there were no wide streets, no area for strolling or for congregation – and the areas between various pits and fissures of the mountain were connected by swinging rope bridges. Ptarmigan Fortress was a grey city, not built for glamour or efficiency, merely for survival.

It was quiet; the majority of the slaves had been conscripted into the army and so the usual buzz of human activity had diminished. The quietness was unnerving.

Communication was frequent and Tia spent the next few days on Master Marduk's heels, scribing for him during his exchange with the other Censors and with the Consul stationed in Capital, who was speaking for Apsu, the king's main advisor. Tia couldn't help but notice, and become uneasy as a result of, how the king's advisor was making all King Ea's decisions regarding where to station the troops and the ground coverage rate as they marched.