CHAPTER II
"It Begins"
The ox-cart jolted violently as it struck a wayward rock and Glenn roused with a start. The farmer turned back to check on his passenger and threw him a sheepish grin when he saw that the young merchant was wide awake.
"Sorry, 'bout that," the man apologized, "But you know 'ow Fossil Valley is, Guv'ner."
Glenn nodded weakly. "Yes, that's quite alright." He tucked his hands into his coat pocket and leaned against the wooden rail. "I must thank you again for being so accommodating. I consider myself very lucky to have found you."
"Nary a problem, lad. T'was very propitious of you to 'ave approached me when you did. Mostly everyone is stayin' put because of the trouble in Guldove." The man glanced behind him again. "Did you 'ear 'bout it?"
Glenn shook his head in feigned ignorance. "No, I don't believe so. Tell me, what is happening?"
"Ships and men 'ave surrounded the island, lad. All communications 'ave been cut off." The driver cracked his whip lightly and the horses pulling the cart neighed in protest. "And not just regular vessels, my boy! They're great metal giants that use sail and breathe smoke too! 'Dragon Ships' is wot everyone is callin' 'em."
"Ironclads," Glenn murmured.
"Wot's that, Guv'ner?"
"Nothing. I was just summarizing some orders I have to place at Arni. How did you come to know of this?"
The farmer shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Rumors and stories driftin' 'bout Termina, mostly. By the way, lad, the village you're goin' to, Arni, word 'as been circulatin' that two chaps there saw the ships with their own eyes! Isn't that somethin'?"
"Yes, rather it is."
"You're a smart one, Guv'ner. Stockin' up on supplies and such. This much I can tell you, if war breaks out, you will make a killin', no pun intended."
"No one should be profiting from death and misery!" Glenn snapped.
The comment hushed the farmer and they rode in silence for a few minutes. "You be a good 'un, lad," he said following the brief interlude. "And I apologize for 'avin' made such a callous remark."
"It's nothing to fret over. How much longer have we to go?"
"We'll be approachin' the outskirts of the village before sundown. I 'ope you 'ave a place to stay for the night. Arni isn't 'xactly famous for its inns, you know," the old driver tittered.
"I shall make do," Glenn replied, "Thank you kindly."
The setting sun had nearly vanished from the horizon when the cart rumbled into the outskirts of Arni. The driver stopped by the side of the dirt road to let his passenger out and offered his traveling companion wishes for a safe journey. The old farmer then smiled at him and went on his way. Glenn briefly surveyed his surroundings and found that it was all strangely recognizable. The road to the village was flanked on either side by palm trees that swayed lazily in the evening breeze and the lights from Arni beckoned to him. He took in a gulp of air and even that seemed familiar. Far off he could hear the currents dash against the shore and the smell of the sea filled his nostrils. Unable the shake the peculiar feeling that washed over him, Glenn ran his fingers through his golden locks and began to walk in the direction of the village's flower bedecked portico.
The narrow streets were all but abandoned, but the warm glow of life effused from the numerous huts that lined the dusty avenue. The sounds of laughter and the clink of utensils upon china reached Glenn's ears from the Café de Fleur a bit further down the path. The dull reddish-orange glow of the setting sun provided a modest amount of light to allow the host of multicolored banners that hung from the rooftops of the residential huts to remain visible.
By all appearances the village had done very well in the years before and in all probability continued to thrive. The fish caught by Arni fishermen had always sold well in Termina and there was even a market for El Nido seafood on the mainland. Though cities and small towns like Truce and Medina possessed their own fishing industries it was El Nido that provided the most varied selection of underwater culinary delights.
The first incursion by Porre forces had left Arni untouched. Termina up north was briefly occupied, but the hostile troops left soon thereafter as mysteriously as they had arrived. The pristine fishing village had been left to its own devices and despite the strict regulations placed on travel between the northern and southern halves of the island, Arni continued its distinct way of life and even flourished in the face of occupation. The fishermen had provided Porre troops with fresh seafood when military rations expired and, except on a few isolated occasions, the orders were diligently paid for in full. The profiting by Arni had elicited a few hostile reactions following Porre's withdrawal, from Termina in particular. A generous gift from the village to the larger port city up north for use in reconstruction and recovery, however, silenced all ill thoughts and words.
Glenn pulled his cloak closer as a chill wind embraced him. He trudged toward the café and cursed to himself for lacking the foresight to wear something thicker. Arni was, after all, situated on the coast and cool evenings were a foregone conclusion. As he ascended the wooden ramp of the Café de Fleur he silently hoped that there would be a place to spend the night. Sleeping out in the open was not an option. He suddenly stopped in his tracks and briefly wondered if his new commission as an officer had made him soft. "I had no trouble sleeping under the stars as a Private," Glenn thought. However, when he did so in the past he was well prepared for it. A campfire was essential for warmth and he doubted that the villagers would appreciate a roaring flame so close to their rather combustible wooden and straw huts. He shrugged and walked through the café's entrance.
The atmosphere was lively and the patrons inside seemed too preoccupied with their own affairs to pay heed to the newcomer. The tantalizing smell of hot food coming from the stove enticed Glenn, as he had not eaten since his departure in the morning. He approached the café counter and peered over at the boiling pot of fish stew. He licked his lips in anticipation took a seat in front of the bubbling contents. He spied a waitress across the room and smiled at her. The girl threw him a playful glance and drew near to him.
"What can I get for you, handsome?" she smirked.
Glenn blushed and cleared his throat. "I'll have the stew, Miss."
"An excellent choice!" the girl exclaimed, "It's made with fresh Okapa fish, clams, and mussels. All of it freshly caught this morning." She paused to inscribe the order on her pad of paper. "Speaking of muscles…" The waitress mumbled under her breath and snickered as she snatched a glimpse of Glenn's well toned arms, the product of countless hours spent wielding a sword.
He caught the entendre and turned beet red while the waitress giggled as she skittered away into the kitchen. A grin appeared on the lips of the normally reserved soldier and he chuckled softly. One thing that the manor sadly lacked was adequate female companionship. In all his years as a dragoon he had never allowed himself the opportunity to openly fraternize with the fairer sex. Riddel was wed to his elder brother and aside from the few, older female staff that worked in the manor there were no girls to speak of.
The stew arrived shortly with a piece of crusty bread and a sly wink from the waitress as she served the dish. He could hear her stifled giggles as she quickly sped away after having dropped off his order. He dug into his supper with great relish and soon found that his hunger had been adequately satiated. He paid his bill and was told that the chief would provide him with a room for the night upon making an enquiry about lodging. Glenn again made eye contact with the waitress as he was about to leave and she threw him another flirtatious wink. He turned to smile back and very nearly toppled down the wooden ramp when he missed his footing. As he slowly strolled on the darkened path to the chief's house, he began to contemplate his next move.
* * * *
Leena yawned and stretched languidly. She sat up on her mattress and sleepily looked out the window. The first golden rays of the morning sun were just beginning to appear over the watery horizon and she could already hear the chattering of the fishermen as they prepared to venture out to sea. She heaved a sigh and rolled out of bed.
The village outside had already begun to rouse when Leena left her house. The streets were still relatively quiet, but within an hour the voices of children would fill the narrow pathways and peals of laughter would reverberate throughout Arni. She placed her hands on her hips and looked up at the sky. The violet tinged heavens of early morning were beginning to give way to the familiar clear blue of summer and the staccato cry of gulls could be heard coming from the shore. A smile crept across her face as she descended onto the dusty venue.
Leena gently rapped on the door to the chief's abode and waited for a response. The door creaked open to reveal an old man in a multicolored robe. He flashed a tired smiled at the young woman at his doorstep. "Good morning, Leena," he greeted her in a rich baritone, "And how are you doing this fine day?" He motioned for her to enter and he shut the door when she complied.
"Great so far, Chief!" the bubbly teen chirped. "I came over to ask you if…" She trailed off as she caught a brief glimpse of a man buttoning his shirt in the corner of the room. He almost looked her age; perhaps a bit older, but not by much. A small crisscrossed scar adorned his left cheek and his disheveled, sandy blond hair was kept in place by a long white ribbon. Leena bit her lower lip in deliberation. "Now where have I seen him before?" she mused.
"Leena?" The chief tapped her on the shoulder. "You were saying?"
"Fish," she mumbled without taking her eyes off the stranger, "I was going to ask you about the fish that…" She paused. "I'm sorry, chief, but who's your guest?"
Glenn continued to clothe himself, oblivious of the attention he was receiving.
"A young merchant from Termina," the chief answered. "He arrived late last night and couldn't find a place to stay. So he's our guest for the duration of his visit." The village leader's eyes twinkled merrily. "Would you like to be introduced?"
Leena looked at the chief alarmingly. "Introduced?" she sputtered, "I don't think I could…"
"Come now." The chief laughed lightly and gently clasped her wrist. "You might as well get to know him. He'll be doing a lot of business with the village and I'm sure he'd appreciate being shown around." The leader winked at her and laughed again.
The two walked toward Glenn, who was pulling his boots on as they approached. Leena playfully resisted as the chief brought her closer to him. She deduced that he had traveled extensively, his skin tanned from exposure to the sun. She lightly cocked her head as her eyes scanned his well muscled arms. "Looks rather strong for a merchant," she thought.
"Marcus, allow me to introduce Leena," the chief said, using the cover name Glenn had provided him with the evening before. "She's one of the First Daughters of the village."
He glanced up at Leena and she gave an audible gasp when she looked into the pale blue eyes. She stood in mute silence as she struggled to identify him in her thoughts. He slowly rose to his feet and extended his right hand to her in greeting. She reciprocated in kind and he gently brought her hand to his lips in a kiss.
"A pleasure to meet you, Leena," Glenn said.
"Likewise, Marcus," she breathed, spellbound by him.
"You mentioned yesterday that you need a guide to help you with your business in Arni, Marcus," the chief injected, "Leena's very knowledgeable and she knows the village very well."
"Yes, thank you. I'm sure she will be marvelous for the job," Glenn replied. He turned and looked at her. "But I hope that the lady will not mind doing so?"
"Not at all!" Leena professed, "I'll be more than happy to show you around…Marcus." She grinned at him and he returned the compliment in earnest.
Glenn and Leena left the village leader's home shortly thereafter and made their way outside to the Commons. The sun was already in the sky, bathing the village in warmth as the two took a seat underneath a palm tree. A light breeze shifted the green fronds above their heads as they leaned against the trunk. "So…Marcus," she began, "How long have you been a merchant?"
"Almost two years now," Glenn replied. He moved slightly and propped his legs up on a rock. He rested his hands behind his head and proceeded to elaborate on his past.
Leena listened with interest, albeit with a hint of skepticism and a good dose of suspicion. The situation she had witnessed on Opassa Beach materialized in her mind. She glanced at the comely young man who sat beside her and attempted to imagine him in a Porre uniform. As he droned on about trade in fish, wine and rarities like Hydra claw, her uncertainties on the true identity of the fellow and his motives began to grow. Once he had finished his verbal autobiography, Leena smiled, rose to her feet and faced him. She reached into her dress pocket and pulled out a small ivory dagger.
"Enough stories, 'Marcus' if that's your real name!" she spat, "I can see through your whole charade. You didn't fool me for a single minute. Tell me who you are and what you want with us!"
Glenn quietly stood up and took a step forward. Leena backed away, the weapon in her hand pointed menacingly at the Lieutenant. He cautiously advanced and she fell back again.
"Don't come any closer! I'll kill you, I will!" she cried.
He stopped in his tracks and looked around. No one was about and there were no villagers approaching the chief's abode. The Commons was all but deserted and only the two of them stood in the empty gathering space. Glenn brought his attention back to the girl wielding the knife and heaved a sigh. "Please, Leena, I can explain," he offered.
"Don't skirt the question, Mar…whoever you are!" She continued to brandish the dagger, her green eyes filled with anger and fear.
He opened his mouth as if to reply and promptly shut it. He took another step forward. Suddenly, she gave a little cry and rushed forward, the ivory weapon aimed at Glenn's chest. He quickly sidestepped the attack, seized her wrist and gave a slight twist. She yelped in pain and the knife fell to the ground with a soft thud. He whirled her around and seized her other wrist. They stood face-to-face as she struggled in his grip.
"I'll scream!" she threatened, "I'll do it and the whole village will come and drag you off to be hanged, you wretch! Cad! Traitor!"
"Leena! Calm down!" he implored.
She continued to thrash about violently and her knee made contact with a sensitive portion of his anatomy. He doubled over in pain and released her. Leena dashed to the Commons entrance, neglecting the dagger she had dropped. Glenn raised his head long enough to see her trying make a getaway and quickly pulled off his right boot. He lobbed the heavy shoe in the direction of the fleeing girl and extraordinarily the heel made contact with the back of her head. She tumbled forward, struck her right temple on the hard earth and lay unconscious on the ground. Glenn momentarily glanced at the motionless figure in front of him and heaved a sigh.
"This is turning out to be one hell of a day," he groaned.
* * * *
The spyglass swept across the horizon and settled upon the rocky island-village of Guldove. The cold grey eyes that scanned the towers narrowed considerably when it caught sight of small blue shapes on the wharf being driven back by a large multicolored mass. Several minute flashes were spotted followed by puffs of smoke. Lieutenant General Crumm of the Porre 10th Rifle Division lowered his telescope and pursed his lips in dissatisfaction.
"Damned idiots can't even handle a bunch of villagers with pitchforks," he fumed. He snapped his fingers and a soldier stepped up beside him. "Get the 2nd Battalion to land onshore immediately. And bring in naval support. Bombard the whole place to hell if you have to. I want that village secured before nightfall." The subordinate clicked his heels in acknowledgement and marched off.
Another soldier approached the officer and saluted him. "Lieutenant General Crumm, sir! A Level 2 telegram from HQ has arrived, sir!"
"Well, out with it then man! What is it? This had better be good," Crumm snarled. He raised his spyglass again and aimed it at the village. He frowned with displeasure and swore under his breath.
"They've got the boy, sir! He's on the way back to the mainland, sir!"
"About damned time," he sneered. "And what else? Orders?"
"You are to proceed to occupy El Nido, sir! Further instructions from High Command are pending, sir!"
He dismissed the soldier and snapped the telescope shut. He pocketed the spyglass and folded his arms. From the direction of the island there came a loud explosion followed by a bright spurt of flame and a plume of curling black smoke. Another blast sounded and Crumm saw one of the towers crumble. He looked on dourly as another ironclad warship prepared to turn its guns on the residents of the unfortunate village.