Vance Moore - Odyssey

Another bird warrior flew through the air. The four in Kirtar's party had been killed, so this goldenwinged fighter must be a messenger from the north. The lieutenant waved his arms to signal his presence, but the sharp-eyed flyer was already swooping down to him. The raypen folded his wings and shook the still settling dust off his feathers.

’Greeting to my First,” intoned the raypen, its high tenor piping as it recited the message from memory. Messengers were specially trained to give messages word for word to prevent written orders from being intercepted. ”There have been attacks of forest creatures all along the western borders of the high plains. You are to return north directly, collecting information and offering aid to those whom need it. The villages under the Order must be protected. If necessary you will stay and oversee the southern defense. We must find out what is happening. Pianna, Captain of the North.”

Kirtar cursed the bad timing. Fighters from across the continent were here for the contest, and representatives of the other continental powers had arrived as well. Here was a chance to forge new alliances, and the Captain had just ordered him back to the barely civilized plains to protect scores of nameless villages. His huge hands clenched in anger, but he relaxed them with a conscious effort. The captain was head of the Order, and he must believe that she knew what she was doing. After all, he thought to himself, he didn't want to stay in this pit of a city anyway. There would be other chances to make his presence known. News of his victory would help convince others that the Order's direction was necessary for the common good.

"I am afraid I must leave directly," he said to the ambassador, waving the messenger toward the main camp. "I am sorry to miss the championship rounds, but I am sure Turg will triumph now that I will withdraw from the contests." He looked toward the amphibian, but he had vanished from sight. Looking for the frog brought the officer's gaze back to the sight of the mer forces diving into the pools, dragging their dead behind them.

"I was very surprised to see your soldiers streaming from the ground," he stated, his eyes narrowing as he turned back to the ambassador.

Laquatus seemed huge, his form giving off vibrations that seemed hypnotic. Kirtar could feel his pulse slowing as the violet eyes of the merman expanded to fill the world.

"But of course you knew of the soldiers under the city," a velvet voice insinuated. "They attacked at your orders, being already under your command. Don't you remember?" Kirtar fell into darkness ringed in purple as the ambassador took hold of his shoulders.

*****

"I must therefore leave immediately for forest's edge." The words resounded in Kirtar's head, and he wondered who was saying them. It was with some surprise that he realized that he was the speaker. "This attack is but one of dozens that have issued from the west. The Order is the only force that can protect those villages without the walls and guardsmen of Cabal City," he said to the assembled city elders.

Kirtar stood on a rough platform against the arena, looking over the square. The fall of rubble punctuated his speech as work crews tried to clear the streets. The dragon that he had slain filled the street, and blood from the great corpse slowly drained into the storm gutters, the smell issuing from the sewers under the arena. The crowd of henchmen and ordinary citizen ignored the odor. Kirtar knew them to be used to such odors in this pit. He gritted his teeth in anger.

Why was he giving a speech to the Cabal, he wondered savagely. The city was contemptible. Only the grave breach in civil order had convinced him to fight the dragon attack. Cabal City was a sour taste in his mouth. Only the sight of the mer ambassador, his invaluable advisor, prevented him spitting in contempt onto the arena square. He ignored the growing mutters at his long silence to regard Laquatus, his closest ally. The merman was the first to see the importance of uniting the continent of Otaria, saving its fragmented history.

The mer agreed it was long past time to impose order on the land. The underwater kingdom would lend arms to help the lieutenant pursue his dreams. The guards the ambassador put under his command proved invaluable in defeating the huge beast. It was the first and richest fruit of the inter-power alliance that the Order wished to form.

How lucky the ambassador had ferried his personal guard to the catacombs under the arena. Kirtar wondered at the expense of shifting so many water breathers. It was fortunate that the drowned caves had been available. Even though the forces proved effective, he still chuckled at the naivete of the ambassador. It showed the merman's inexperience with the dry land that he would bring water breathers as guards against land-bound dangers. After all, how many flooded caves could there be? He nodded to the ambassador, grateful for his support and resolved to do his best in protecting Laquatus from his own foolishness and inexperience.

The officials began clapping after long seconds, and the crowd belatedly joined in. The Master of the Games heaved his heavy bulk up to the podium beside the lieutenant. Kirtar dragged his attention back to the officials of the Cabal, despising them but determined to act politely for his ally's sake. The mer ambassador nodded approvingly, and the bird warrior felt a burst of pride at his own statesmanship.

”We thank you for your leadership in combating the dragon in conjunction with Ambassador Laquatus's guard.” The Cabal functionary sent an ill-favored glance toward the water dweller as he mentioned the valiant sea fighters. It was the base nature of the pits that made them so suspicious of such timely aid, the lieutenant said to himself. The speaker turned from the ambassador as if snubbing him and gestured broadly toward the Order officer and his guards behind him.

"Hurry up, you bag of wind," the aven warrior muttered to himself.

"In recognition of such bravery and valor in cause of the common good, we gladly offer the pick of the prizes to Lieutenant Kirtar."

A polite clapping sounded as a representative of the Order went to select a prize from the mound of treasure pulled from the arena. The champion was unable to restrain showing at least some contempt for the proceeding, and he chose an elen to carry the prize. Though the giant bird warriors stood close to ten feet tall, the gray-skinned humanoids were of the serving class. The lieutenant doubted his hosts were intelligent enough to read the insult of the great robed figure going through the prizes like a ragpicker searching a garbage pile. The elen selected an object, the round sphere almost lost in its gigantic hands.

The ambassador and his frog both looked to the prize, ignoring the rambling official. As Kirtar agreed to this farce only as a favor to his ally, he wondered what could be so important about a bauble plucked randomly from a pile. The elen walked slowly, appearing almost introspective as it came nearer the officer. The giant bird warriors were known for their lack of magical talent, and it appeared, outside everything Kirtar knew, that the huge servant tried to use magical senses to probe the metal surface. Intrigued by what would drive such a mystical incompetent to such efforts, the lieutenant stepped forward to intercept the prize bearer. The walker showed no awareness, continuing toward the baggage train where the bauble was to be stored with the other luggage. The officer plucked it out of the elen's grasp, seeing Turg step forward as if to admonish him. Then all thoughts of the frog, the Cabal, and anything else vanished from his mind.

The sphere erupted in a shout of power. The dull metal surface seemed to burn away, blurring Kirtar's eyes with tears. The magic that called so softly now filled the world. As the flare of energy subsided, the lieutenant held a globe of perfect crystal. The clear depths called to him, drawing his spirit away from Cabal City. The aftermath of the battle and the stench of the street were gone. Purity and glory surrounded the bird warrior. The audience showed its essential stupidity in staring dumbly at him, ignoring the vistas that opened at every side.