Chapter III
"A Complex and Unexpected Turn"
Leena groaned softly as she shifted her head. She felt a cold and damp material wrapped around her brow and instinctively reached up to grab it. She opened her eyes and found herself lying on a cot inside the chief's hut. The village leader, however, was nowhere to be found and somewhere off in the distance she could hear someone shuffling about. She closed her eyes again and exhaled loudly. She suddenly remembered the merchant 'Marcus' and the altercation and bolted up from the cot with a squeak. The wet cloth fell from her forehead and she hurriedly picked up her shoes from the ground. As she was about to reach for the doorknob, she felt a hand clamp over her mouth and an arm encircle her waist. Leena was spun around and she found herself looking at Glenn's face.
"Don't scream, Leena!" Glenn pleaded, "I mean you no harm." He had wisely position his body a few inches away from the girl's knees, lest he be on the receiving end of another well placed jab. She was complacent enough, but her eyes spoke of her fear. "I'll remove my hand if you promise not to scream bloody murder. And I'll explain everything."
Leena slowly nodded in agreement and Glenn slipped his hand away from her mouth. She scowled and brought her palm across the Lieutenant's face. He momentarily saw stars as the furious young woman rained blow after blow on him.
"Beast!" she raged, "Cur! Rascal! Scoundrel!"
He vainly attempted to block the flurry of slaps, but to no avail. She continued to advance as he stepped back until his foot caught on a rug and he fell to the floor. The parade of strikes ceased and Leena stood with her hands on her hips, glowering above her fallen prey.
"You've got some nerve!" she fumed, "Lying and then throwing your stupid shoe at me! It really hurt! Who fights like that? I mean, honestly!"
Glenn rubbed his cheek and looked up at his attacker. "I'm sorry, madam," he replied meekly.
"Sorry nothing!" Leena retorted, "Traitorous lout! I knew something was fishy the minute I laid eyes on you! So what does Porre want from Arni? Fish? Or was that poor boy you drugged and dragged away the other night your point in being here?"
He rearranged his hair ribbon and cautiously stood up. "I'm not an agent of Porre, Leena. Quite the contrary, I'm…" Glenn hesitated. Revealing too much information could further jeopardize his mission. Nevertheless, he owed her after having inadvertently assaulted her. "I was sent from Viper Manor to investigate and look for the two fishermen who saw the Porre warships." He massaged his tender cheek and pulled an ivory dagger from his pocket. He carefully extended the object in his hand to the girl. "I believe this belongs to you."
Leena carefully took the weapon from the Lieutenant and eyed him apprehensively. She placed the dagger back on the chief's desk and returned to face her would-be captor. The young man looked earnest enough and though he could very well have ended her life while she lay unconscious, he did not and had even returned the ivory blade to her. She warily took a seat on the cot and folded her hands on her lap.
"Perhaps you'd care to tell me what it is you plan to do and how you intend to go about doing it. Your real name might be nice to know, too."
"My name is Glenn and I'm a Lieutenant in the 4th Light Regiment of the Acacia Dragoons." A complete explanation of his mission ensued and with each word he felt Leena scrutinizing him for any trace of deception. Leena continued to observe him in silence long after he had completed the impromptu debriefing. After several minutes of awkward stillness she gingerly brushed imaginary specks of dust from her skirt and crossed her arms.
"Okay," she began, "that's good. We're getting somewhere. So what's your last name?"
"You may call me Glenn," he replied, "And you? What is yours?"
"You may call me Leena," she advised.
"Fair enough, Leena." He pulled up a chair against the cot and sat down. "Now that you know the real reason why I'm here, perhaps you can be of some assistance."
"You want to meet the fishermen, I'm guessing."
"Are they in the village right now? Can I go see them?"
Before Leena could answer, the front door of the hut burst open and the chief stumbled in. The village elder was disheveled and covered in dust. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead and the cane he usually carried was missing. He stopped in front of the two bewildered young people and opened his mouth as if to speak. Instead his eyes rolled back in his head and he crumpled to the floor with a resounding thump. Glenn immediately darted toward the old man and knelt beside him.
"Leena, grab his arms and help me lift him onto the cot!" he commanded.
Pale and shaking, she meekly acknowledged the order and grabbed the Elder's hands. Shouts and cries were heard coming from the outside as the chief was propped up on the bed. He gasped softly as his lungs struggled to take in air. Leena stood hunched over the old man, desperately trying to revive him while Glenn dashed to the nearest window to assess the situation. Throngs of people were running in the direction of the dockside from beyond the portico and wails of distress reverberated throughout the village.
"He's responding!" Leena cried.
The dragoon officer tore his eyes away from the chaos and returned to the bedside. The Elder was awake, but he appeared very weak. He raised his right arm and feebly grasped Glenn's tunic. He released his hold and motioned for the younger man to draw nearer. Leena looked on with concern as the cacophony outside continued to build. The echoes of small explosions were heard accompanied by screams. With great difficulty, she forced herself to ignore the clamor and turned her attention back to the village elder.
"Sir, what is happening?" Glenn asked.
The chief looked up at the officer and groaned. "Soldiers…" he gasped, "Soldiers at the docks have arrested…" The old man grimaced and he clutched his side. Leena gave a cry when she saw a growing patch of red materialize on the Elder's robe. The blood was beginning to seep through fabric, staining his left hand a deep crimson.
"He's wounded," Glenn observed. "Undo the tunic. He'll die if we don't hurry."
Leena reached for the damp material, but the Elder weakly pushed her hand away. He shook his head in despair. "There's no hope for me," he croaked, "The wound is too deep. But there are more important matters to deal with. Porre is here! They've landed…" The chief winced in pain, but fought the sensation and continued, "…they've landed at Guldove and a smaller detachment of soldiers seized our docks a few minutes ago."
"They've come for the fishermen," Leena gasped and the Elder nodded in agreement.
"The troops are about execute the poor lads on a trumped up espionage charge. They've probably done away with them already," he sobbed in despair.
Leena remembered the two short blasts she had heard earlier and cringed.
The old man suddenly gasped and went limp, his head lolled to the side. Glenn slowly released the Elder's hand and stood up. He strode to the chief's desk and snatched the dagger Leena had placed there earlier and handed her the weapon. She looked at him in bewilderment and shook her head.
"Take hold of this. You might need it," he instructed.
She wordlessly received the knife and slipped it into her dress pocket. She watched as the Lieutenant gathered his belongings and as he was about to leave, Leena sprinted ahead of him and slammed the door shut. He paused and looked at her questioningly. She positioned herself in front of the door so as to block his passage and returned his gaze. He let out disheartened a sigh.
"No. It's far too dangerous for you to get involved."
"And if I stay in Arni, what's to happen then, Mr. Dragoon?" she retorted. "It's not any safer here, to be perfectly frank. They've murdered the two fishermen who saw the ships and they'll probably want to seize the village and murder everyone else here as well!"
"There are such things as rules of war, you know. If the Porre Army takes over, Arni will be considered occupied territory. So long as the villagers behave, and I'm sure they will, the residents will have nothing to fear. You're safer here than with me."
Leena crossed her arms and frowned. "I wouldn't count on it," she interjected, "I told you about the boy that those men kidnapped the other night, didn't I? What would they do if they found out there was a material witness to their little escapade? If what happened to Kiripa and Olango is any indication of how these Porre thugs treat people who know too much, I might as well jump into the sea now and be done with it."
Glenn threw his arms up in exasperation and dropped his cloak on the floor. "And let's say, just for the sake of it, you came along. Then what? The likelihood of war has just increased ten fold with Porre troops about to billet in Arni. How can you possibly keep up with me?"
"I'll manage! Point being, if I stay here I'm putting myself and my family in danger." Leena walked back to the chair by the cot and slumped into it. "Besides, I think that fellow that got bagged by those soldiers may have something to do with this," she sniffed.
"Why do you say that?"
"Call it intuition."
"That's not a good enough reason."
"How about I tell you the whole thing on the way to wherever it is you're going?"
He halted briefly to deliberate and after awhile he grudgingly agreed to allow Leena to accompany him. "Just make sure you don't get yourself killed. I can't look after you at every waking moment," he growled.
"I can look after myself, thank you," Leena remarked. She started for the door and pulled it open. "So where are we going? You do know that there are probably troops parading down our streets right now, don't you?"
"Yes, I know," Glenn snapped. "You live here. What is the best way to get out without being detected?"
Leena stepped out onto the Commons and turned back to face her new travel companion. She motioned at the clump of palms at the far end of the gathering space. "Through there where we sat earlier this morning. Once we pass those trees we'll be on the main path outside the village."
"Then let's go."
"Where to?"
"Termina," he replied tersely as he picked up his cloak.
* * * *
Crumm sat on the makeshift military dock and watched as rows of demi-human prisoners shuffled alongside a column of blue coated Porre soldiers. The troops had captured the village a half hour earlier and the residents were none too pleased to be wearing chains while their homes burned around them. Resistance had not been completely stamped out and even as reinforcements began to disembark on the blackened shoreline diehard Guldovians had taken to the surrounding mountains. He huffed in displeasure at the thought of having to root out a well entrenched enemy. The resistors were ragtag militia armed with old smoothbore muskets and, heaven help them, swords and pikes, but they were dangerous all the same. He had a mere quarter of his division on hand and he knew that a prolonged guerilla war with the wretched inhabitants would only serve to undermine the expedition.
The Chief Aide-de-Camp approached Crumm and clicked his heels smartly. The man was drenched in sweat and his weathered face had smears of dry blood streaked across his cheeks. His officer's gorget displayed a dimple on the polished surface, undoubtedly caused by a spent musket ball. The man had been very lucky, for a few additional inches in either direction would have meant death.
"Status report, Colonel," Crumm grunted as he eyed the officer lazily.
"One hundred and sixteen of the enemy killed, seventy-nine wounded, and six hundred and fifty-five prisoners taken, Lieutenant General, sir," the colonel replied hastily.
"Our losses?"
"Nineteen killed, twenty-eight wounded, sir."
Crumm yawned and waved his hand dismissively. "That's fine, Colonel. Have the men search the residences for any armed troublemakers." He paused to adjust his cap. "Shoot to kill, you have my orders."
He reclined in his chair gazed out at the sea. Numerous gunboats were patrolling the waters, zipping between the larger ironclads and spasmodically firing signal shots to the troops on land. The large Ignatius Class transports were unloading the two artillery batteries that accompanied the expeditionary force. Crumm could see the gun crews struggling to pull the large iron pieces ashore while the ship's sailors unloaded the shell crates. The sun was setting on the horizon and from a distance he heard the melodious clang of the dinner bell. He pulled out his pocket watch and stood up. Dinner was one of the few occasions where he had the opportunity to grill his regimental and brigade officers on modern tactics. If a man failed to answer his questions correctly there was a good chance that he would be relieved of his command. This expedition, however, would call for a more lenient approach. Crumm could ill afford to sacrifice his officers and he knew it. He snapped his watch shut and started for the shore, where a small boat was waiting to carry him back to his command ship. He sighed contemptuously. The night's gathering would have to be pleasant one.
The crystal flutes clinked around the table as the group of smiling officers raised a toast to the success they had encountered on the beaches of Guldove. A demi-human waitress clapped in chains cleared the champagne bottles and dishes while the men exchanged compliments and spoke of their prowess on the battlefield. Lieutenant General Crumm sat silently at the end of the dinner table swirling the bubbly yellow liquid in his glass. The evening had passed with little consequence and the week's operations had been accomplished without any major flaws. He reached up and undid his collar and cravat. Dinner was always a stuffy affair for Crumm. Though he enjoyed hassling and demoting ineffective officers, he despised having to squeeze himself into his dress uniform with its high collar, sashes, and tin neckties. He faced the brigade and regimental officers seated at his table and cleared his throat. The conversations dropped off and his dinner companions shifted their attention to the commander.
"A good job, yes," Crumm began slowly, "and you are all to be congratulated for the courage displayed by your men out there." He tipped the contents of his glass into his gullet and placed the flute back on the table. "But we have only just begun and there is still a lot to do. You are all here on High Command's orders. Your men have no clue why they're stationed in El Nido and you, gentlemen, are in the dark as well." He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. He stuffed the cloth back into his breast pocket and motioned for the waitress to refill his glass. "Tell me, do you like stories?"
The officers around the table looked at each and slowly nodded.
Crumm coughed and cleared his throat noisily. "As you all know, last year the Republic briefly occupied the El Nido archipelago in search of a supposed ancient artifact of great power. That went straight to hell. We found nothing and wasted valuable resources. Moreover, our demi-human expedition sponsor and leader went missing. High Command couldn't care less, but all the same, we squandered our time.
"Now it saddens me to report that we're back to chase another myth. The Chancellor and High Command have decided to place the fate of the war's outcome in the hands of university archaeologists and a journal," he scoffed. "Have any of you men heard of Major General Norris of the Black Wind Division?"
A young adjutant meekly raised his hand. "He was the leader of the expedition sent here the previous year, sir," the lad piped. "The Major General was dismissed from the service for failure to comply with orders and for insubordination."
"Correct. Following his departure the Seventh Bureau's intelligence operatives lost track of him. Many of you are already familiar with the fact that the Seventh has its head up its ass most of the time and so learning that they couldn't find the man didn't surprise me at all."
A peal of laughter momentarily filled the room. The waitress set a box of cigars on the mess table and Crumm motioned for his officers to join him as he lit one. Tendrils of blue smoke swirled around his head as he took a puff and sipped his champagne.
"The ex-Major General left behind a number of personal effects," he continued, "and among those items was a journal. The Seventh went through it and apparently the entries were of sufficient interest for the thing to be bumped up to the Ninth Bureau. And from there military intelligence passed it on to the Chancellor and the General Staff."
"What did the contents detail, sir?" the Chief Aide-de-Camp asked. "To warrant the attention of the Chancellor and the GS, that is."
"A record of ex-Major General Norris' experiences in El Nido," Crumm explained in a calm and even tone. "It seems that he met a few interesting characters here while on duty and ran off with them in pursuit of the exact same artifact the Republic was searching for. He apparently found it in the Sea of Eden. But he also recorded that the thing was destroyed shortly thereafter. Nevertheless, the little paragraph that detailed the recovery efforts was enough to keep the eyes of the brass at High Command glued to the book."
"Are we in search of the same artifact this time around, sir?" a Brigadier questioned.
Crumm shook his head. "No." He paused to take another gulp of his drink. "The book spoke of ruins from the future and of machines so fantastic that it would make a scientist's head spin. But what the Army High Command is primarily interested in is the discovery of advanced weapons technologies. You all know that the war back home is far from finished. No matter how many times we beat down the insurgents they just keep coming. The General Staff hopes to find a way to pacify these rebels by displaying fancy new ways to kill them.
"Norris was kind enough to name names in his journal. He had gone into astonishing detail about the lives of his travel mates, insofar as to what he knew, in any case. But we were able to pinpoint a few individuals, in particular the kid that started the whole thing. Problem was, he supposedly existed in a different dimension," Crumm said. "Fortunately, the authorities back home were able to draw on the skills of our illustrious prisoner, the good doctor. With her coerced cooperation we were able to replicate the dimensional gate effect and, as far as I know, we successfully pulled the kid into this side of things."
The clock struck eleven and the Lieutenant General stood up. The other officers followed suit and he dismissed them for the evening. After the men had filed out of the mess quarters, he unfurled on the table a large topographical map of El Nido's main island. The piece of paper had been marked with circles, numbers and arrows to symbolize the 10th Division's movements. Crumm had planned the attack a week prior to his forces setting sail. His spies in the port city of Termina had recently confirmed that the Lord of El Nido had indeed planned to fight an invasion. He looked at the map and snorted. His enemy was barely a brigade in strength and most of those soldiers were mounted dragoons armed with swords and lances.
"One volley from a platoon of Porre infantry and a bayonet charge will be enough to send the General's second-rate militia fleeing for their lives," he mumbled scornfully. The commander blinked, rubbed his eyes and yawned. He blew out the candelabra and trudged back to his quarters.
Outside, the village of the demi-humans continued to smolder in the moonlight and hundreds of campfires blazed along the shoreline. While the rest of El Nido fell into a fitful sleep, the intermittent popping of musket and rifle fire pierced the night air around Guldove. The full scale horrors of invasion had set foot on the archipelago and Anguish and Suffering trailed in its wake.
* * * *
The market swarmed with merchants and their customers as Glenn and Leena snaked their way through a valley of stalls and produce stands. News of Arni's capture and subsequent occupation had spread like wildfire. Mounted dragoon guards and newer infantry formations were patrolling the city and all around tensions ran high. Through the din, Glenn turned back and told Leena to hold onto his hand in case they became separated. She duly complied and soon the two travelers finally reached the flight of stairs that led to the cemetery and began their descent.
The surroundings were serene, but the marketplace ruckus above the stone steps filtered down to the burial grounds. Off to the side a lone straw hut perched upon wooden pylons graced the landscape. Leena scanned the area and only saw a small dispersal of townsfolk flittering about the numerous headstones. Glenn pointed to a small outcrop carved in the shape of a scallop shell and motioned for her to follow him.
He knelt at the grave and said a silent prayer as Leena stood reticent, watching the other mourners. A tall peddler in a shawl with a wheelbarrow full of bluish-purple blossoms approached the two and stood a scant few feet away. Leena strained to see his face, but the man's head was bowed and encased in a tattered hood. He peddler remained motionless as Glenn continued his orison. When he had finished, the stranger shuffled toward him and offered him one of the flowers. He took the bloom and carefully placed it on the grave. He reached into his pocket for a coin, but the peddler raised his hand in protest.
"There's no need for that," the man said in a raspy voice. "Consider it a gift for the fine lad." He slowly raised his head and wisps of lavender hair protruded from the hood of the old shawl.
Glenn stepped back in shock and blurted, "Karsh?"
"In the flesh," the peddler replied.
"What are you doing here?" he asked incredulously.
"Helping you out on your mission, what do you think? And not so loud. If you can't tell, I'm in disguise." Karsh jerked his thumb at Leena. "Who's the skirt?"
Leena glared at him peevishly.
"My travel guide. She's from Arni." He turned to face her. "Leena, this is Karsh, one of the Four Devas of the Acacian Dragoons."
"Hey, sorry to hear about your village," Karsh said. "But don't worry, we'll kick the bastards back to Porre, you can count on that." He rummaged through the wheelbarrow, pushing the stalks of flowers to the side to reveal a broadsword hidden underneath the thin layer of blossoms. "For you, Lieutenant."
Glenn looked around and discreetly picked up the weapon. He hid it in his cloak and inconspicuously fastened the scabbard to his belt. "Where's the other one?" he asked.
Karsh shook his head and drew his shawl closer. "You'll have to make do with just one of the Einlanzers. Carrying the both of them from the manor would've been risky as hell," he whispered. "Besides, where you're off to you might find a sword to be a wee bit less useful. And unless you have an innate ability to deflect bullets, a firearm might be a better companion."
Glenn gave him a stunned look. "Where am I off to exactly?"
Leena cleared her throat and subtly pointed to two young men strolling alongside the dock. Karsh turned his back to the both of them and pretended to be on the lookout for prospective customers while Leena wrapped an arm around Glenn's waist and rested her head on his shoulder. He placed his cheek on her hair and gave her a sympathetic embrace. When the two passersby had left the three returned to their previous postures.
"General Viper's orders are for you to hitch a ride to the mainland," Karsh explained. "Once you're there you have to find a way to get in touch with an ex-Porre officer. He's some sort of weapons expert and military engineer. With war being a damn certainty now, we'll need all the help we can get. The General's also hoping that he can tell us why the Republic is back."
"And after I meet this officer?"
"You get your ass back here in one piece and preferably with this guy following you. Be quick about it though. The General doesn't want to fight but if we're forced to, and I hate to admit this, Porre has us outgunned and outnumbered. We can hold out, but for how long nobody knows. And if, the Dragon Gods forbid, we're overrun, you won't have a home to return to."
Glenn pursed his lips and nodded in affirmation. "Understood," he answered.
"And one more thing," Karsh began. "There is a group of merchants from Truce doing business here in Termina. You might want to see if you can arrange a ride with them. Go as an El Nido shopkeeper and make up a story about wanting to flee from the coming war." He glanced at Leena and smirked. "Same goes for your wife."
Glenn turned beet red and Leena glowered at Karsh. He shrugged and grinned at them.
"Good luck, Karsh," Glenn said, "to you and everyone back at the manor. Take care."
The Deva clapped him on the shoulder. "Be very careful of who you speak to. There are Porre agents crawling about everywhere. Don't trust anyone you meet on the mainland," he cautioned, "not even the officer guy. Tell him what he needs to know and nothing more."
"What's his name?" Glenn enquired.
"Norris," Karsh responded, "Major General Norris."