On this chapter we meet the powerful general of the Suteckh army, Draknorr. There is a picture of him to the right (or above if you're in a mobile device).
CHAPTER 24
"What's that noise?" whined Lao, more to himself than to anyone else. "Turn that ruckus off, Falcon, I'm trying to sleep."
"I don't know who this Falcon be," said a strange voice. "But you best be getting up before the general makes his morning rounds."
Lao snapped awake. For a second he had forgotten he was at the Suteckh army camp.
After he saved the merchant family he had walked for two more hours before finally reaching Kach. Once he got there he inquired about joining the Suteckh army, which turned out to be surprisingly easy. Desperate to recruit as many fighting men as they could, the Suteckh bought into his made-up story in which he claimed to be the son of a regional province mayor.
After that he had moved out with the rest of the recruits and joined the main army, which he had marched and trained with for the past week now. He hadn't learned much yet, but of one thing he was certain: The Asturian mayor was right. The Suteckh were planning an assault, but he had yet to find out what capital city they would strike first. He would just have to be patient. Soon he would have all the information he needed, and then he would be welcomed back to Ladria as a hero.
Lao slipped into his uniform, which he liked more than he cared to admit. The black leather and silver boots fit him snugly. Once he was dressed, he hurried from the tent and joined the wave of soldiers who were reporting to duty. The morning air smelled of ham and eggs. He rubbed his growling stomach, cursing himself for getting up so late.
Pushing the thought of food aside, he followed the marching men over the rocky training fields and through the swampy marshes. They continued on even as the musky smell of old wood replaced the aroma of the mouth-watering camp food. Not until they came upon a large cedar podium with four men dressed in black uniforms did they finally stop. The four men stood with their backs to the soldiers. Lao and the others waited silently for a few minutes: nothing happened. Is this why they woke us up? To stare at people's backs?
A dark-cloaked figured made its way to the podium. On its right side stood the Grand General of the Suteckh armies, Draknorr. His entire body was encased in a slim suit of black-and-gray armor. His helmet, which only had an opening in its back to let out a long burst of untamed hair, fully covered his head. Two razor-sharp metal claws extended from his right hand.
"All hail the Blood Empress," ordered Draknorr. Instantly everyone bowed to the cloaked being who sat on the oversized throne. She wore a metal gray mask with dry blood protruding from her hollow eyes. "We are here to see who is the strongest among you. The victor shall be promoted to captain."
"Hey, what's going on?" whispered Lao to the soldier beside him.
"Those four men up there are best fighters in the army," whispered the man, making sure to keep his eyes affixed to the front. "Whoever wins gets a promotion."
The four men immediately unleashed their fury on one another. The biggest of the fighters, a man who wore a large Mohawk atop his head, quickly established his dominance by throwing his three competitors to the floor with one roundhouse kick. The three fallen competitors looked at each other and nodded. Lao recognized what had just happened. The trio, realizing that the large man was their biggest threat, had formed a silent alliance.
The three attacked at once. The mohawk warrior delivered a punch to the cranium of his first attacker, who crumpled to the ground. The last two men landed a flurry of blows on their opponent's chest. They might as well have been hitting him with feathers. Letting out a fit of mock laughter, the mohawk warrior wrapped one hand around each of the men's necks and picked them up with ease. The men kicked and choked as they dangled in the air. Not until their bodies went limp and their eyes rolled back did the large man release his grip. They fell to the floor.
"Highness and great general, these men are worthless adversaries," boasted the victorious warrior. "Please, let me fight the best you have to offer."
There was a murmur in the crowd as Lao felt his legs move, almost subconsciously. The possibility of power beckoned him and before he knew it, he stood at the center of the podium staring the soldier down. His heart beat with excitement.
The warrior stomped his feet. "You dare challenge me? Insignificant worm!" Drool dripped down from his mouth as he reached for Lao's neck. He sidestepped and simultaneously delivered a blow to the back of the man's head. The man rubbed his eyes with one hand, and swung wildly with the other.
Lao smirked; the fool was playing right into his hands. He grabbed the man's arm, locked it in and pulled as hard as he could. The sharp sound of bones breaking filled the air.
"Aaarghh," the man cried as he clung to his broken arm. Lao shot his arms down, aiming at the man's legs, and drove him to the ground. He wrapped his hands around his legs and applied pressure. Bones broke once again.
"Please, stop," whimpered the man, holding his hands up defensively and sobbing like a child.
"Shut up, weakling," said Lao, disgusted that a warrior would beg for mercy. He kicked the man hard in the neck. The man let out a sickening gurgling sound as blood filled his throat. Then his eyes closed.
Proud of himself, Lao turned toward the Blood Empress, but she was gone. He looked around. The soldiers too were nowhere in sight. Only the general remained.
"You are a reckless one," declared Draknorr, his fauld clanked loudly as he moved toward him. "But bold as well; perhaps the empress could have some use for you."
"I'm the Blood Empress' humble servant," said Lao. "I shall do as she commands."
Draknorr turned to leave. "We will see."
"Excuse me, sir. Don't I get the promotion? I won the fight, after all."
"We will see," repeated the general, not bothering to look back as he strutted off, his cloak swirling behind him.
~ ~ ~
Falcon rubbed his lower back, but it did little to alleviate the pain. During the past two days he had carried more logs than he wished to see in a lifetime.
After the attack, he, Sheridan and Aya had busied themselves helping the Asturians rebuild their village. They fixed the meeting hall and most of the homes. It wasn't part of their job but it felt wrong not to help.
The combination of the remodeling and the defeat of the Suteckh dramatically changed the mood in Asturia. The somber faces that had been the norm days ago now revealed jubilant smiles. People laughed and joked. Children played outdoors without the threat of an attack looming over them. Festivities were held every night in honor of the Rohads.
Falcon wasn't much for celebrations, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the feeling he got from helping. It saddened him to know that in a few days he would have to leave, but such was the nature of the Rohads, always moving to where they were needed, never staying in one place for long.
After giving his back a much-needed rest, he bent down and planted the last of the flowers. He was finally done replacing the flowers he destroyed when he had crashed through the wall. He stepped back to admire his work. I'm not a half-bad florist.
That's when an oil painting at the back of the room caught his attention. He had noticed the paintings before, but hadn't given them much thought until now.
On each of the canvases were people playing, laughing, posing, and enjoying a picnic by the lake. But there was one painting in particular that seized his attention. He gazed at it, dumbfounded.
"Interested in the paintings?" asked Faith. "I came to check on my gardens but I see you have been taking good care of them." The healthy shade of pink in her skin had returned. "All the paintings here are of people from the village."
Falcon pointed to the canvas of a woman who held a baby in her arms. "That can't be, these people have never lived here."
"Why are you so interested in that particular picture?"
Falcon struggled to find the right words. "The woman is my mother, and the baby in her arms is me."
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Element Wielder
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