Richard Tuttle - Winged Warrior

“I will ask Wyant when he arrives,” stated Harmagan. “If he confirms what you have said about Duran, I will finally believe the stories of the coming war.”

“Fair enough,” smiled Fisher. “When is he due to arrive?”

Just then, several Jiadin burst through the front door. They slid to a halt and looked around the room.

“Where is Brakas?” asked one of the men.

“He is gone,” answered Harmagan. “Why do you want him?”

“Wyant is in town,” answered the warrior. “We want to be there when Brakas makes him tell us where Angragar is.”

“Brakas left town,” Harmagan stated. “Have every group commander report here immediately. I want them all here before Wyant arrives in this building. Is that clear?”

The men nodded and ran out of the building. Fisher moved to leave as well, but Harmagan called to him.

“Where are you going, Scarab?” he asked.

“To get lost in the darkness,” Fisher replied. “I am not one who cares for the light. I have to find out where Brakas has gone.”

“Stay, fellow Jiadin,” smiled Harmagan. “I don’t want you out of my sight before Wyant arrives. I want his answer to the question about Duran to honest.”

“I will promise not to speak to Wyant,” countered Fisher. “I really must go.”

“You don’t want to be seen by Wyant,” Harmagan grinned. “And here I thought you were working for him and the Free Tribes. Would he recognize you by sight?”

“No,” Fisher replied. “My duties require that few people know me. Your men would probably recognize that I am not a Jiadin and that would call attention to me. That is attention that I cannot afford.”

“Put your mind at rest,” grinned Harmagan. “Few who call themselves Jiadin today are really from the original Jiadin tribe. Most of the current Jiadin joined under Grulak. In fact, most of my original kinsmen are long dead. I will introduce you as Scarab, my long lost brother.”

Fisher thought about the value of having a validated Jiadin identity. He knew that it could be valuable one day.

“Why would you do this for me?” asked Fisher. “You must know by now that I am a spy. Why open up the entire Jiadin tribe to my snooping?”

“Because I like you,” grinned Harmagan. “You not only saved my life, but you have been open and truthful to me. Besides, I do not fear anything that you might find out snooping on the Jiadin. Stay and listen to Wyant. Afterwards you can give me your thoughts on what he says.”

“You want me here to validate what Wyant says,” laughed Fisher.

“You are quick, little brother,” grinned Harmagan. “If Wyant confirms your words about Duran, then I can believe everything you say. Seeing as I can believe you, I will ask you what you think about what Wyant tries to feed us. In the end, we will all have the truth.”

“I will stay,” smiled Fisher. “I do not have to know Wyant well to know that he will tell you the truth. Rejji would not have it any other way.”

Jiadin warriors started pouring into the administration building. Some of them glanced questioningly at Fisher, but no one actually challenged his right to be there. When all of the leaders had assembled, Harmagan ordered the door closed.

“I want to talk to all of you before Wyant gets here,” Harmagan began. “Most of you probably heard that Brakas is back in town and urging us to make Wyant mention the location of Angragar. As far as the Jiadin are concerned for now, let Brakas ask Wyant what he wants to. What we are interested in is much different. We want to know when we can get out of this city and kill something.”

The Jiadin cheered and raised their fists in the air. Harmagan grinned and waited for the commotion to die down.

“Not sure if any of you remember him,” Harmagan said as he put his arm around Fisher, “but this is my little brother, Scarab. You old timers will remember him for sure, but not you young pups.”

Amazingly, some of the older Jiadin professed to remember Scarab. Fisher figured that they were either drunk and couldn’t see, or they wanted to act as if they were founding fathers of the Jiadin clan and remembered everyone. In the end it didn’t matter much. Scarab was enthusiastically welcomed by the Jiadin leaders.

“Scarab here has brought me some disturbing news,” Harmagan frowned as he regained everyone’s attention. “It appears that there is a plot to kill Wyant. Now, we all know that no good will come to the Jiadin if that happens.”

“Does this have to do with Brakas?” asked one of the men.

“No,” Harmagan shook his head. “As I said, Brakas has already left the city. No, this is some type of scheme to kill Wyant and blame the death on the Jiadin. We can’t let that happen.”

“What scum would do such a thing?” one of the men shouted angrily.

“Let’s not worry about the who for now,” replied Harmagan. “I want each of you to be responsible for Wyant’s safety while he in our city. What happens to him after he leaves here is not our concern, but that man will not die in Meliban. Everyone clear on this?”

The Jiadin leaders all acknowledged their understanding about Wyant’s protection. Harmagan was pleased and opened the floor for discussion on what they wanted to talk to Wyant about. Scarab listened to the Jiadin complaints, which centered mostly on the inactivity of being cooped up in the city, but his mind was on Clarvoy. He wondered what the evil mage had up his sleeve, and who he would look like next.

The door to the administration building opened and Wyant entered with a group of six Jiadin warriors surrounding him. Harmagan and the other leaders greeted Wyant while Fisher tried to fade into the background. Fisher had been in Angragar at least once while Wyant was there. Although they had never been introduced to each other, Fisher was slightly concerned that Wyant would recognize him and inadvertently expose him. The spy’s fears were overblown. Harmagan grabbed Fisher by the shoulder and pulled him forward to meet Wyant. The Marshal of Fakara nodded as Harmagan introduced Scarab, his younger brother.

“Have there been troubles in Meliban?” Wyant opened the discussion.

“Little outside the normal problems,” shrugged Harmagan. “The men are tired of being held in this city. When can we leave?”

“Soon,” answered Wyant. “Very soon. I was asking about troubles because you seem to have afforded me an escort on this visit to the city. Why?”

“The men have been rowdy lately,” smiled Harmagan. “I wouldn’t want to see you hurt. Does the protection bother you?”

“No,” frowned Wyant. “I just sense that there is more to the story than you are telling me.”

“Well,” shrugged Harmagan, “that is all there is to it. Tell us what is new in this supposed war we keep hearing about. I have to tell you that many of the men are beginning to doubt that there will be a war.”

“Oh, the war is coming,” stressed Wyant, “and much sooner than we had thought. Already the enemy has destroyed a city down south. The full invasion cannot be far off.”

Harmagan shot a glance at Scarab as he addressed Wyant. “What city was destroyed?” he asked.

“A Sakovan city,” Wyant replied. “You probably never heard of it. It was called Duran.”

“Duran?” echoed the Jiadin leader. “I think that I have heard of it recently. Were the city defenders beaten badly?”

“Beaten?” Wyant frowned heavily. “They were utterly destroyed. It was not a fight; it was a slaughter. I am not talking about a city like Meliban that is filled with Jiadin warriors. Duran was a farming and fishing city. The Motangans literally killed every living thing in the city. You do not understand what we are facing, Harmagan. These Motangans have no use for prisoners. They already hold thousands and thousands of slaves on the Island of Darkness. They have no need for more slaves, nor will prisoners have any value in negotiations, because there will be no negotiations. This coming war is a fight to the death. Either our civilization wins, or theirs does. There will be no in between.”