Gray Blade----Chapters 6-8

A Parable for Our Times

This is a time-travel fantasy that is a parable for our times. It’s about the importance of choice and courage in the face of overt threats of violence.

After the first three chapters, two or three chapters will be posted every week until November 5, 2024. If you read at least into Chapter 8, you should have a pretty good idea if this serial fantasy is worth your time.

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Yellow Feather Time is a time of trouble and conflict and it’s the time that Envis has traveled from.

It’s a time when and where the secrets of the Gray Blade are desperately needed.

It’s a mild Winter….

CHAPTER SIX----UPRIVER OUTPOSTS

In the time of the Yellow Feather, the Battle Leader, Ardarook, leaned against the vertical logs of the palisade and looked sharply at the Emissary. They were just outside the maze-like alley that provided a guarded entrance to the fortified village. Any attackers would be slowed and challenged trying to get through this “gate”. The conflicts that were brewing in Yellow Feather Time often threatened to break out as direct violence.

            “What’s the problem?” Ardarook demanded. “Hasn’t your sociable Trader come up with the right answers for the Monocrat’s questions?”

            “He’s got answers, but they don’t seem totally honest,” the Emissary said. “He’s got a good story, but when you look around this trade center things don’t seem exactly right.”

            Ardarook smiled in an unkind way. He enjoyed the irony of this politician complaining about dishonesty and untruths.

            “So, what’s the problem?” he repeated. “Hasn’t the Trader found anything of value? The Monocrat does not tolerate confusion or ambiguity, you know.”

            “I know that only too well,” the Emissary whined. “There’s supposedly soft, malleable brown metal to the north of here and there are also reports of a soft red rock resource just to the south. But, it’s the layout of this fort that concerns me.”

            The two men turned and walked through the narrow and convoluted opening in the palisade. They stopped in the open central plaza, which had a second internal wall bounding the south side.

            “If things are going so well, why is the contingent of our people living in the protected precinct behind that wall?” the Emissary said nodding toward the internal dividing wall.

            “Who knows,” Ardarook said gruffly. “Or more to the point, who cares?”

            “The Monocrat does,” the Emissary said. “And, I’m charged with the responsibility of assessing this trade center and reporting directly to him,” he huffed importantly.

            “We’re both assessing and reporting,” Ardarook snapped. “I keep having to remind you that the military intelligence aspects of this trip are more important than the commerce and cooperation.”

            “There’s enough cooperation from the local people and enough potential for trade to make this outpost viable.” The smaller man turned away from Ardarook’s threatening bulk.

            “In addition to the resources from the rocks, there are deer in the woods and fish in the river,” he continued as he looked off toward the northeast.

            “Besides,” he said, “just look at those temple hills.” He gestured to the northeast and northwest corners of the compound. “The locals have embraced enough of our ideas to build and to trade.”

            “Even though I have my reservations about our Trader’s effectiveness, I see no reason to even think about any military options here,” he added.

            The Battle Leader frowned deeply and said, “We are on a scouting mission here. The squad of mercenaries that travels with us is required for protection in case we encounter unexpected challenges.”

            “I didn’t mean to imply that your expertise is not needed,” the Emissary said smoothly. “I just don’t think that the situation here warrants muscle and violence. The main messages of commerce and conversation work better when applied with finesse.”

            “If I had thought that we’d encounter real resistance, I would not have left the main mercenary cohort back at the river,” Ardarook conceded.

            “But you know that my military requirements are more important than the trade and religious messages. We can always simply take what we want. And, that applies to people as well as to resources,” he added in a dark tone.

            He turned abruptly toward an approaching man. “Here’s your friend the Trader,”

            The Emissary opened his arms in a wide greeting. Ardarook rolled his eyes.

            “Do you have any questions?” the Trader asked. “I hope that you will take a positive report back to the Monocrat.”

            Oh, we will, we will,” the Emissary soothed him. “But yes, I do have a question. How were you able to get the local workers to build the temple hills there?” he gestured toward the northeast and northwest corners of the plaza.

            “This site was chosen to correspond with a place already recognized as significant,” the Trader said. “The people who originally lived here had designated this place as sacred in their own tradition. We just accepted their ‘insights’ and appropriated the site as our own. From there it was easy to whip up enthusiasm to celebrate the coalesced beliefs.”

####

            “I didn’t come all this way upriver just to haul dirt.” The man complained to his companion who was busily digging into the hillside.

            “You’ll do whatever the Battle Leader tells you to do. He’s got a close personal relationship with the Monocrat,” came the reply.

            It was midday and the weather continued to be warm and dry. Construction on the platform and carving of the hill had continued well into the first moon of winter. The high promontory already had a commanding view to the south down the river. When the site was completed, the island would be a suitable tribute to the powers of the Sky. In addition, it was easily defended because the channel split around the island and set it off from the rocky bluffs bounding the valley.

            “What have you heard about the expedition to the east?” the men continued their conversation.

            “Apparently that outpost is surrounded by a log palisade,” replied the second man.

            “Well, that is certainly not needed here.”

            “That’s right. The locals are enthused about building this shrine and about growing the crops that we’ve brought them.”

            “So, the fighters become workers, instead of seeking glory and adventure off to the east,” the first man grumbled.

            “Don’t let the Battle Leader hear you complain about that. He’ll make certain that you are in the front line when we next engage an enemy. He can be very accommodating that way.”

            At a higher position on the island hill, Ardarook stood with the Emissary and a Priest.

            “How do you find these local people?” he asked the Priest.

            “They are very hospitable,” came the answer. “This location was important in their existing tradition and so they have been enthused about making it into a more prominent display. We have no problem getting workers to dig and haul and ram the dirt into place.”

            “That’s very similar to the situation that we encountered at the eastern outpost,” the Emissary said.

            “We have no need for fortification here,” the Priest interrupted. “Not only is the island defended by its setting, but the people actually pose no threat.”

            “So, you have told us, many times,” Ardarook growled.

            “The people here are happily settled into this river valley,” the Priest continued uninterrupted. “In general, they tell us that they have no desire to move downriver just to be closer to the Monocrat’s seat of power. They’re a simple people who don’t care about the lure of the capital city, although many of the younger people have expressed some interest in leaving.”

            “That’s good,” the Battle Leader said. “That’s exactly what is needed in our trade and ceremony center. We want people who accept our organizational structure, our rules on work and leisure, and our conventions about the roles of men and women.”

            “Well, that last thing may require a bit more educational work,” the Priest cautioned. “Here, men and women are treated as equals and in the same way there seems to be no difference in wealth between the internal families.”

            “That seems uninformed,” the Emissary said. “We’ll have to enlighten them with our new, formal system.”

            “It also sounds like a potential problem,” Ardarook said. “You need to closely monitor their assimilation into our ways of doing things. If there’s any resistance, you need to let us know immediately.”

            The Priest nodded and shifted his feet uncomfortably.

            “My people are prepared to handle any contingency in a swift and efficient manner,” the Battle Leader added, punching his clenched right fist into his open left hand.

            The Emissary and the Priest exchanged knowing looks.

            “Courage and strength are virtues valued in my companies,” he continued. “Blood and sacrifice are often required to seal the arrangements that we work out with all of these local groups.”

            The other two men looked at the ground and hunched their shoulders defensively as the tirade continued.

            “I don’t care if it’s men, women, children, or old people,” the Battle Leader thundered. “Everyone must obey the wishes of the Monocrat and become a functioning part of our society. Stragglers and malcontents will not be tolerated. If it takes a bloody fist holding a club to get cooperation, then that’s exactly what will happen.”

            He took a deep breath and stomped away down the hill. The Emissary and the Priest watched him stalk off. They were dazed and shocked by the outburst, even though Ardarook had a well-established reputation for harsh words and dangerous actions. They had no idea about what might have set off the flair of temper. But they also knew that there were many frustrations for the leaders deeply involved with the conflicts and impending chaos of Yellow Feather Time.

CHAPTER SEVEN----SUPREME COUNCIL

Two people stood in the foyer of the Council Chamber of Two Rivers City. It was too cold and damp to be talking outside, but so far, the winter had been deceptively mild.

The tall woman was a Councilor from one of the more vigorous and successful downriver colonies. The short, portly man was a local representative. He did not like the assertive woman because he thought that she was argumentative. They were early for the morning meeting of the Supreme Council.

“He’s crazy,” the woman said. “You know that, don’t you?”

“His people love him because he’s strong,” the man replied.

“Ardarook blurs the boundaries between being strong and being insane,” the woman said forcefully, looking more closely at the little man.

            “I have heard that as a young man he didn’t have clear ties to any fostering family or clan,” the man retorted.

            “That could explain some of his attitude and behavior,” the woman acknowledged. “But, without the nourishing roots of deep values, he has succumbed to a love of violence and remains in the thrall of overt physical power.”

            “Understanding the limitations of his childhood doesn’t make him any less dangerous,” she added.

            The short man started to glance nervously toward the entrance of the Council Chamber.

            “You should be very careful about saying those things,” he croaked softly. “The meeting will be starting soon.”

            But the woman wasn’t finished. “Ardarook seems to have a soul-sucking need to win in every challenging situation. People in my tradition recognize that the “win at any cost” attitude can never be satiated. He’ll never be content, no matter how many battles he wins or how many diverse cultures he brings under the fist of this city’s organizational control.”

            “The Monocrat trusts him and gives him many important tasks,” the man whined. “Councilors are starting to come in!” he added as he scuttled off into the main area of the Council Chamber.

####

            That evening after the meeting of the Supreme Council, Ardarook and the Monocrat were settled comfortably into the leader’s living quarters at the top of the hill constructed by workers. Their location dominated the city and stood well above the Council Chamber which was situated on a broad terrace about a third of the way up the hill.

            “Well, that was certainly a confusing charade in the Council meeting today,” the Monocrat began. “Did you and the Emissary even discuss your differences before laying them bare before the Council?”

            “That idiot never fully understood what we saw in the upriver outposts,” Ardarook snarled. “We argued most of the trip back until I finally stopped talking to him. Our separate reports reflected the contrasting conclusions that we came to.”

            “No doubt about that,” the Monocrat agreed. “And, naturally it doesn’t really matter how confused the counselors may have been. They’re only perfunctory puppets in the overall scheme of things anyway.”

            “Those stooges were just grateful to be getting in on the reporting process,” Ardarook said. “You and I both understand that the true power of this city rests squarely in your personage.”

            The Monocrat smiled slightly and said, “But, tell me, how do you think these two settlements compare with some of our efforts up the Roiling River in the northwesterly direction?” he asked.

            “I think any comparisons are easier to make with our colonies to the east and south downriver from here,” Ardarook said. “We’re just getting started into the area of the upriver Roiling River.”

“Still, I know that you have some knowledge of the landmarks and travel routes. And, you probably also have some ideas to share on our potential successes up there.”

Ardarook nodded and began his narrative.

“To the west of here at the mouth of the Roiling River, it is a journey of 10 to 15 days to where the river turns north and another 10 or 15 days to where it turns west again. We’ve encountered some resistance along the first leg of that journey, so we’re concentrating our efforts at resettlement and rehabilitation farther upriver where it turns west.”

“So, it takes almost a full cycle of the moon to march from here to the main colonizing area?” the Monocrat frowned.

“It does,” Ardarook acknowledged smoothly. “But we can also cut cross-country from the last outpost that we just visited. That reduces the trip to about one-half that time by avoiding the rambling Roiling River route. And, that alternative route takes us through the prairie lake country where we’ve had relative success in converting people to our crops and ceremonies.”

“There are five rivers that join the Roiling River near where it takes the northern bend to the west,” he continued.

“Two are separated from the three that are clustered right at the bend. Those two outermost stream valleys have been very good for us. We have outposts well established in both with strong potentials for trade in the surrounding areas.”

“And, apparently no need to employ the Bloody Fist?” the Monocrat replied. “I suppose you are disappointed in that.”

“Well, you know that I do like fighting,” Ardarook grinned. “But, those three middle streams clustered right at the westward bend of the Roiling River may well provide a much more stimulating challenge.”

“The central one, called the Prairie Wood River, is a direct route to exposures of hard red rocks that are believed to host a spectacular soft, clay-like material. We’ve seen mementos and trinkets made of this material all over our commerce network.”

“So, there are some trade incentives to pursue our efforts up the middle river,” the Monocrat said. “How about the two adjacent stream valleys? How far apart are these three streams?”

“The east river, called the Small Willow River, is very close to the central Prairie Wood River,” Ardarook replied. “They join the Roiling River at almost the same place. The Red Earth River is the western river and is less than a half-day trip away. There’s supposedly a holy hill on Red Earth River. It might be a good place to establish a ceremonial center similar to the one that I visited with the Emissary and Priest.”

“That’s an interesting possibility,” the Monocrat mused. “Requisitioning and redoing established sacred sites has always been a very effective way to engage or enrage the local people. In either case, our objectives are usually met.”

“I far prefer the results of enraging the locals,” Ardarook said. “That usually entails some work for my corps of mercenaries. And, that makes us all happy.”

“Well, maybe not the vanquished resistance,” he added.

“First things first,” the Monocrat said. “Let’s squeeze those middle three stream valleys using the settlements we’ve established in the outer two valleys. They can provide a base of operations for modifying that holy hill and also be the staging areas if we do move to military operations.”

Ardarook nodded. “Our foothold valleys are both about two days away from the targeted cluster of three in the middle. That’s strategic. They’re close enough to respond to any challenges in a reasonable time, but far enough to limit prying eyes that might watch our preparations.”

“It sounds like you’ve already decided that there will be fighting,” the Monocrat laughed.

####

            At that exact time, there was another conversation happening in a different part of the city. The tall woman Councilor from downriver had cornered the frightened little fat man who had escaped their earlier conversation prior to the meeting of the Supreme Council.

            “It was an unusual and welcome opportunity for the Monocrat to let the Council hear the reports from upriver,” he said.

            “The Monocrat is devious,” the woman snapped. “That perfunctory meeting was just a stage for one of Ardarook’s performances. He loves conflict because he believes that it provides distracting entertainment.”

            “But, the Monocrat views Ardarook as his apprentice and possible successor,” the little man protested.

            “Ardarook thrives on lies, chaos, and instability,” the tall woman said pointedly. “He’s a bully who makes intemperate statements and contrived threats and then backs away from them.”

            “Or, he backs them up with mercenaries in full battle gear,” the little man said. He shook his head.

            “You’re putting yourself, your family, and your constituents in grave danger with all this conspiratorial talk,” he said. “And, I’m worried that there will be a guilt by association in just talking to you.”

            “Nonsense,” she said. “They wouldn’t dare to use violence against a member of the Council.”

            “Times change,” the man said simply and walked away.

####

            Several days later in the central plaza, Ardarook encountered the Monocrat.

            “I want you to travel downriver and report on the situation, similar to the trip that you just made upriver,” the Monocrat said. “Those settlements are more at risk than the outposts on those far-flung valleys up the Roiling River.”

            “I agree,” the Battle Leader said. “But, remember that when the time comes to crush skulls, the fist holding the club gets bloody.”

            “Of course, the Bloody Fist,” the Monocrat frowned. “That’s why I have you!”

CHAPTER EIGHT----PRICE OF PERSISTENCE

In Yellow Feather Time during the middle moon of winter, the Supreme Council gathered for a regularly scheduled meeting. The Emissary and the Trader were the first arrivals in the empty Council Chamber. They sat near the far back wall across from the main entrance and spoke in urgent, quiet voices.

            “This massacre will have a definite impact on the other downriver colonies,” the Trader said. “Killing children and old people is not the way to encourage good partnerships. Trade is built on trust and Ardarook’s savagery is a threat to that trust.”

            “Yes, I agree, but there is also a political reality,” the Emissary said. “There will be no substantial challenge from the eight representatives from this capital city and the four Councilors from the upstream outposts lack any meaningful impact.”

            “But the downstream colonies are enraged by this violence,” the Trader said. “The four Councilors from those colonies will be vocal, especially that tall woman.”

            “She is a powerful force and an eloquent speaker,” the Emissary acknowledged. “But, she and the other two women on the Council serve at the pleasure of the Monocrat. Don’t forget that the organizational structure of this city and its outlying colonies and outposts does not rely on debates by women. It is based on power protected by the threat of violence and that fact means that men control the decision making.”

            “But your practical politics are trumping the vitality of our trade network,” the Trader insisted. “And besides, there is the ethical issue of an unwarranted attack and wanton killing. Maybe there will be a response from the religious community.”

            “The Priest who traveled upriver with us earlier this winter accompanied Ardarook on this downriver campaign,” the Emissary said. “Do you really think that he’ll protest the atrocity?”

            The Trader shrugged and shook his head sadly as other Councilors came into the Chamber.

            The Monocrat presided in a distracted and uninterested fashion while the routine opening of the meeting played out. However, as the debate started to become more heated, he seemed to become more involved and engaged.

            “This colony had gone rogue in the matter of religion,” the Priest was countering a point made by a Councilor from a downriver colony. “Trade is important, but not nearly as important as orthodoxy.”

            “This offending colony had denied the supremacy of the Sky Power and they were practicing the heresy of a balance between Sky and Earth Power!” he shouted. “They deserved exactly what happened!”

            The majority of the Councilors stood and called out their agreement to the Priest’s animated charges and emotional rhetoric. All of the delegates from the downriver colonies and even a few from the upriver outposts sat in stoic silence.

            When the tall woman from one of the downstream colonies rose, the Chamber became quiet.

            “Surely we can tolerate their alternative interpretations of balance,” she began in a calm voice. “That should be especially true in the context of the trade network that has brought us all together.”

             “Kill the Earth to worship the Sky!” the Priest chanted.

“That colony refused to mold, carve, and build the required monuments of dirt. They all deserved to die!” he added.

            “Women, children, and the elderly were sacrificed for the inaction of the workers,” the woman responded in reasonable, but slightly louder voice. “The whole village was punished because a few people tried to assert their autonomy.”

            “If you persist in this challenge to authority,” the Priest shouted, “you will yourself be encouraging and condoning blasphemy.”

            The Councilors who supported this statement again called their agreement.

            “If you persist in this challenge,” Ardarook’s voice rang out over the clamor, “there will be consequences that you do not intend.”

            The Council Chamber fell into an uncomfortable, foreboding silence.

            “The engagement at the offending village proceeded in a natural progression,” the Battle Leader continued darkly. “First my men challenged individual fighters and workers to personal duels. As these one-on-one fights became more general, human nature took over and my people responded to the blood lust engendered by the battle.”

            “And, they proceeded to slaughter every living thing in the colony,” the tall woman interrupted. “That’s indefensible and unconscionable.”

            “It is your persistence and challenge to authority that is unconscionable,” Ardarook rumbled in a threatening manner. “The deed is done. You would be well advised to drop this whole line of thinking and questioning.”

            “The colony’s irreverence demanded the sacrifice,” the Priest shrilled.

            The tall woman, still standing, crossed her arms in a defiant gesture and turned to speak directly to the Monocrat.

            “My challenges to this atrocity warrant full explanations, not threats of reprisal and accusations of heresy,” she said in a clear and strong voice. “Does fearful religious fervor transcend the maintenance of peaceful trade and sustaining tolerance?”

            Ardarook shifted his position so that his threatening bulk seemed to intervene between the tall woman and the Monocrat.

            The Monocrat waved his hand in a dismissive way and the Priest jumped up again to point at the tall Councilor.

            “And, still she persists, although she has been warned,” he intoned.

            The woman remained calmly standing with her arms crossed in a challenge against the rising chaos that filled the Council Chamber.

####   

            The tall Councilor stood quietly beside one of the wooden pillars that marked the inner entrance to the Council Chamber. She maintained her stately composure as Ardarook paced impatiently in front of her and then moved in a close circle to hover behind her.

            “How did we come to be the last two people to leave?” she asked.

            “I waited for you while you polluted your associates with your poisonous rhetoric,” he snarled.

            “Or did you wait to murder me?” the Councilor asked in a condescending voice as he again circled her to stand in front of her and stared into her face.

            “It will be swift.” He grimaced and again circled behind her.

            “Are you so arrogant that you discuss your intensions with your victims?” the Councilor asked in disbelief. “Are you so casual about the violence that you carry in your heart like the club in your hand?”

            Standing behind her, Ardarook sneered. “I enjoy controlling life and death moments.”

            “Would you dare to murder me right here in the Council….”

            The tall woman’s last question was cut off by a crushing blow to the right side of her head. She dropped to become a shapeless mass on the floor of the Chamber. 

            Ardarook shifted the battle club from his right hand to his left hand and held it dripping red blood and gray matter on to the floor. He looked down at the crumpled form, spit derisively, stepped over the body and stalked out of the Council Chamber.

            The peaceful stars were a sad contrast to the violent confrontation that had just played out.

####

            On the day after the contentious Council meeting, Ardarook and the Monocrat stood on the crest of the constructed hill looking down on the terrace with the Council Chamber.

            “How did it happen?” the Monocrat asked.

            “She and I were the last to leave the Council Chamber after the meeting had finally ended,” Ardarook said. “In the dark, she apparently slipped and fell against one of the heavy posts that support the roof beams. She hit the right side of her head and died with a crushed skull.”

            “Well, it is an unfortunate accident,” the Monocrat said. “However, it will tend to defuse the clamor coming from the downstream colonies.”

            “That’s exactly right,” Ardarook agreed.

            “And tell me, did you happen to have your war club with you when the accident happened?” the Monocrat asked in a sly voice.

            “Of course,” Ardarook shrugged. “My club is like an extension of my arm and my fist is a manifestation of my life.”