The Merchant and the Menace (38 page)

‘Stay in your ranks,’ nervously called the colonel.
‘One dog wishes to nip at your heels and you balk!’

Slowly Hrafnu’s six sons rose to their feet. Axes
and huge hammers were raised to their shoulders. The charge came on, but
thinned as some riders held back.

Hrafnu calmly spoke to his sons and they fanned out
beside him. The cavalry charged headlong into the Keltaran line

‘For Zodra!’ cried the colonel as he slashed a
cutlass toward Hrafnu’s head.

Hrafnu’s ax shot into the air, held aloft by one
powerful arm. The steel of the cutlass rang as it met the ax head. The blade
spun from the colonel’s hand and stuck in the ground in front of Hrafnu. The
giant laid the shoulder of his free arm hard into the armored breastplate of
the colonel’s charging horse. The mount was driven hard off course and Hrafnu
shifted his weight into the beast. The horse went down in a heap as Hrafnu
raised his ax. The colonel spilled from the saddle and rolled across the valley
floor. He quickly sprang to his feet. The wine’s effects were completely washed
away by the surge of battle.

‘Zodrians to me! Zodrians to me!’ cried the colonel
as he squared off against Hrafnu. ‘Cut down their leader and the rest will flee
like their kin before them!’

Hrafnu’s sons were trading blows with multiple foes
as they too heard the colonel’s cry. Horses rushed in from all around to hem
Hrafnu in. The son of Awoi saw none of it. His rage was fixed on the man in
front of him. Spearmen charged in on the giant as he slowly approached the
colonel. One swing of his ax split spear and man alike. More riders rushed in,
only to find their mounts thrown to the ground by massive hands. Hrafnu’s steel
shod boots tread the life out of several. Still he advanced on the colonel who
cautiously backed away.

Hrafnu’s sons were heavily engaged, but saw the
battle shift to their father, who was methodically drawn away from them. Gnard,
the third of his children, called to his brothers.

‘Men of Keltar, to your father!’

The sons of Hrafnu drew a line and hacked their way
foward. Hrafnu took no notice. Two riders blocked his way to the colonel.
Hrafnu spun his ax and held out the handle lengthwise. The handle was as long
as the height of a normal man. The giant lunged forward knocking pikes from his
path and levered the handle under the necks of both animals. With all his
strength, Hrafnu lifted and pushed the stallions backward. The riders were
thrown from their mounts, and the horses sprawled to the ground.

With the giant thus engaged, the colonel saw his
chance. He darted forward and plunged his short sword toward Hrafnu’s belly.
Hrafnu saw the maneuver but was unable to avoid it. He spun his torso, but the
edge of the blade found its mark, slicing hard against his ribs. Blood sprayed
from the wound as Hrafnu swept the steel ax head down hard on the colonel’s
helm. Helm and head split in two. The colonel dropped to the ground lifeless.
The sons of Hrafnu broke through the Zodrian line and rallied to their father.

Hrafnu’s sons encircled him and inflicted heavy
damage on the enemy. The Zodrians broke and fled. Hrafnu roared in agony. Blood
streamed from his wound. Many of his sons received damaging blows as well, but
none perished. The Zodrians formed rank at the far side of the valley. A young
captain calmed his men and turned to assess the situation. There, lying across
the valley, scattered about Hrafnu’s group, lay over half of their rank. A roar
echoed to him from the enormous beast wounded by his colonel.

‘These valleys are the lands of my people!’
bellowed Hrafnu. ‘Those who trespass are in forfeit of their lives. Zodrians,
you drove my mother out. You helped kill my father. My son’s ashes are
scattered to the four winds because of the evil hand of Zodra. NO MORE! My
children will suffer at your hands no longer. Return to your city and spread my
word. Leave my people in peace and you shall possess peace. If you choose to
challenge us, you choose death!’

The young captain looked to his bloodied troop and
made a wise decision. He turned to his sergeant.

‘These Keltaran as they call themselves, rise from
their slumber. I fear for our people. We must leave this place to protect our
homeland from their wrath.’

The captain returned with his troop to Zodra. He
was summoned before the king and relayed the story of the battle. Many believe
he reported accurately all that took place. The captain warned his king of the
ferocity of the Keltaran. He advised the king to allow these people to live in
peace. The king weighed the captain’s advice and found it full of wisdom.

However, there were those in the king’s rank that
did not want peace. They twisted the words of Hrafnu. They focused more on his
threats and his challenge to the sovereignty of the king. After all, these
lands were claimed for the Zodrian crown by his majesty’s emissaries. These
nomadic mountain tribes held no claim over the land. The mountains must contain
riches untold. Why else would a people choose to live in these frigid wastes?
The king was swayed. He outfitted a great army and determined to sweep the
mountains clean of the Keltaran.

Hrafnu was not idle. One battle is all the giant
needed as a lesson. Just as he quickly improved on all his mother taught him,
he was a quick study in battle. He recognized both his peoples strengths and
weaknesses against the Zodrians. Their size and strength were a clear
advantage. Their limited numbers were not. If the Zodrians attacked in great
numbers, the Keltaran would be overrun.

Hrafnu returned to his valley and fortified his
city. His people went to work immediately. The walls around Keltar grew higher
and thicker. Windows were filled in with mountain granite. The furnaces of the
great mountain city were busy as well. Hundreds of axes were produced and
distributed to the men of Keltar. Hrafnu was pleased with the success his
simple tool produced in battle. The ax was a symbol for his people. Used everyday
to help them subsist in their harsh environment, but equally effective as a
weapon.

After several weeks, Hrafnu surveyed the progress
of his people. Young men trained in the streets with their weapons. Hrafnu’s
sons stood as captains over these men. No jealousy or power struggle stood in
their way. They were a people committed to the defense of their land. Hrafnu
was pleased. He stayed in his city and waited patiently.

The Zodrian king took several weeks to marshall his
forces. Horses were commandeered from surrounding ranches and a great army was
assembled. They ventured forth two weeks to the day of the death of Netur and
his people. The king saw them off with orders to rid Zodra of the threat from
the mountains.

Hrafnu was true to his word. If the Zodrians
entered a valley that was home to his people, they were set upon. Often they
found nothing of value in the valley and decided to set up camp. In the night
the Keltaran came. Down the steep cliff sides of the valley. Over ridgelines
the Zodrians believed impassable. Raiding parties swept down and ran off the
Zodrian’s tethered horses. Keltaran silently eliminated Zodrian outposts.

Sometimes the battle was met. Once the Zodrians
left horseback, they were at a huge disadvantage. Hundreds of Zodrians lost
their lives in the surprise raids conducted by the Keltaran. The Zodrians
developed tactics to combat the Keltaran raids, but their numbers were already
significantly depleted. Then their fiercest enemy arrived.

Winter came to the lands of Hrafnu and his people.
Bitter cold swept down the mountain passes. The Keltaran struggled with the
temperatures, but the Zodrians were no match for them. Hundreds of horses and
riders perished in the frigid climate. Those who survived were too weak to
protect themselves from the sporadic Keltaran raids that followed winter’s
onset. The general staff withdrew the army to the safety of the capital. This
was the beginning of a hundred years of bloodshed between our peoples.

Zodra stewed in her losses, frustrated by the harrying
attacks of the Keltaran fighters. Often, Hrafnu and his people disappeared from
the mountain valleys when the Zodrian army marched forth. The army scoured the
mountains for months and never found a single Keltaran. Winter arrived and the
army dragged itself back to the capital after weeks in the saddle.

Summer after summer the Zodrians rode forth. Summer
after summer their frustration grew as their soldiers fell in battle or spent
months from home with no victories to report. This was Hrafnu’s genius. He
demoralized the enemy at the same time he defeated them. Keltar was stocked
with a year’s provisions. If they chose, the Keltaran could outlast any foe.
Winter was their greatest ally.

No Zodrian ever looked upon the mountain city. It
lay deep in the saddle between the Scythtar and Zorim Mountains. When Keltar
was founded, peace was the objective. However, as fate decreed, Hrafnu’s choice
was also perfectly suited for defensive warfare.

The entrance to the valley was incredibly narrow
with steep sides of broken shale. The footing was treacherous. A thousand foot
cataract spilled from the glacial peaks behind the fortress into a deep pool at
the back of the city. The pool overflowed into a rushing stream that washed
through the center of Keltar then charged through a wrought iron break in the
walls of the fortress. Once free of Keltar, the stream wound through the
remainder of Hrafnu’s valley. It provided fresh water during any siege if need
be. The walls of the valley met the walls of the city. The shear faces of the
Zorim Mountains ensured that no enemy could attack the city from behind.

For a hundred years the Zodrians and the Keltaran
were engaged in a neverending dance of war.

“You act as if the Keltaran never lost battles.”
scoffed Kael. “But I know songs of great Zodrian victories.”

And victories there were for your homeland. Kael, I
don’t pretend that my ancestors were untouchable. They suffered great losses
throughout this century of warfare. Zodrian generals contrived schemes to
defeat the Keltaran. They developed armor and tactics to defend against the
heavy axes of their mountain cousins. Slowly, Hrafnu’s sons were taken from
him. His bitterness grew.

Can you imagine a life of near immortality? Hrafnu
wasn’t only long lived, but his strength and cunning made him virtually
unbeatable in combat. Wife gone. Sons disappearing. His great grandchildren
turning into old men and women around him. Hrafnu’s life work changed into
protecting his people instead of spreading the word of his father and his
Creator. He despised the Zodrians for making this life for him.

However, the Zodrians changed as well. The
influence of Amird was a thing of the past. Men arose from the common folk of
Zodra and took their place among the leaders. Manreel was such a man. The son
of a small landowner, he rose from amongst the ranks of the cavalry. His
prowess on the field of battle grew. First, he rose to the command of a small
unit. This unit distinguished itself. They lost few men in battle, and turned
back many of the Keltaran attacks. Soon, more and more men were assigned to the
unit and it grew.

Manreel was an intelligent man. He studied his
victories and noticed a pattern. When the enemy engaged him, one truth always
shown through. If he retreated into Zodrian territory, the Keltaran never
followed. His men regrouped and found respite from any fight. He kept his units
close to the borderlands. If his superiors ordered him to engage an enemy
force, he waited until the enemy moved close to the border. Other generals struck
deeply into the heart of Keltaran territory, only to find their exit hampered
and harassed the entire way out. Often they were cut to ribbons, unable to
retreat.

Others in the general staff hinted at a lack of
courage amongst Manreel and his men, but those who fought beside him knew
otherwise. When the battle was met, he rode prominently in the front rank. If
ordered to attack when outnumbered, Manreel attacked. Caution was not
cowardice.

 All knew of Hrafnu’s challenge from years before.
All considered it a boast by the giant. Manreel studied his words and saw them
for what they were, a statement of fact and a veiled proclamation of peace. The
Keltaran only attacked when the Zodrians entered disputed land. This land lay
uninhabitable for either side in the conflict. Leagues of fine grazing land lay
empty.

Manreel came to a conclusion. Why wage war at all?
The Keltaran lived in a secret, undetected mountain fortress. The Zodrians
spread south along the open plains. Were these foothills worth all the bloodshed?
The young colonel went to the king with a bold plan to stop waging war with the
Keltaran.

King Debold remained unsure. Years of bloodshed and
bitterness clouded all save Manreel’s vision. Manreel asked the king’s
permission to form a protectorate to ensure the safety of the homeland. They
were to adhere to one purpose, keep Zodra free from invaders. King Debold
agreed and thus the Guard of Zodra was born.

Did you ever think about that, Kael? Your precious
Guard, the pride of the entire country, was formed as a stay at home army. An
army to protect, not conquer.