Milc/C.J. Milnes
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[B2] Chapter 4 - Do it
🕑 Added 2025-02-11 19:20:37 +0000 UTC“Jandak, follow Glimpse. He’ll lead you to the other sentries that are lollygagging. Break their left arms and send them back into town. We’re at war and screwing around rather than patrolling properly could kill a lot of our people,” I said. Glimpse circled down and brushed the top of Jandak’s steel helmet with his talons, causing a tinny screech. The big nomad waved his hands over his head in the wake of the bird's passage.
“They should be killed. We don’t have many crimes but those we do have are punishable by death and fucking around like that is a crime,” said Mune.
“We can’t bleed our strength by killing our own. We’ll need all of our troops, as well as Jagapan’s, ready to train the new arrivals when they hopefully get here,” I replied to Mune. “He’ll lead you straight to them,” I added to Jandak, nodding at the crow orbiting above us. “There’s another seven squads fucking about. Send them back to camp in pain. I’ll send out replacements when we get to Mondit.” Jandak grinned and put a hand above his eyes to shield them from the sun. He spotted Glimpse and took off after the bird at a sprint.
“Let’s go. I’m interested to see what’s changed to cause this sudden loss of professionalism.” We jogged the rest of the way to town and at first glance nothing much had changed since we’d set out to go to the festival. The camp was a match for Areskit before we split the herds with them. The addition of Jagapan’s forces had swelled our numbers to more than match what Hakubin had had under his command.
As I got closer to the break in the palisade my opinion began to change. The warriors on duty were slouching against the reinforced wooden barrier and looking into the town rather than out onto the steppe. They shuffled upright and glared at us as we slowed down at what passed for the gates in a monad settlement.
“Who the fuck are you?” one snapped at me, hefting his spear to swing the sharp point in my direction. I blurred forwards and laid him out with a blow to the temple.
“I’m your king,” I snarled at the other guard who had leapt sideways and reached for his dagger. “Who left you assholes on guard?”
“Lord… Patriarch Hastahyp is assigning the duties for this Moon,” the terrified man stuttered.
“We’re at war. If I see anyone fucking around I’m going to break their arms. Let your mates know,” I growled then strode towards the command tent that dominated the centre of town. It had been a good idea, having people filing in and out of mine and Fay’s private tent had become incredibly annoying. Not just for the inconvenient interruptions; I retained something of the norm from Earth in that I wanted my own private space and what amounted to my bedroom shouldn’t also be my office.
The command tent served the same role as the mead hall of a Viking chieftain. A place to conduct business and gatherings but the far more civilised nomads would never dream of sleeping in it. I swung the entrance flap up and stepped into the gloom within, followed closely by Mune and Kos.
“Who the fu-” the man sitting on my chair squawked as he jumped to his feet, dumping the young woman who had been sat in his lap onto the floor by the central fire. I leapt across the fire and the discombobulated woman to lift the man up by his throat.
“Hastahyp, I presume?” I ground out through clenched teeth. “Mune, go get the coven and the other patriarchs,” I called over my shoulder and I heard the tent flap move as Mune shot away at speed. I tossed the patriarch to the ground roughly, leaving him wheezing and gasping for breath, then offered the young woman a hand up.
“I’m sorry about that. Please could you let the Jagarnyn Patriarchs know that I’m back and I require their presence here immediately?” She bobbed her head and scurried out the tent as I returned my gaze to Hastahyp.
“There are some things I simply cannot tolerate. Rotating authority is fine although I’d rather have a solid man in the position permanently. Giving cushy jobs to your own followers is unfortunate but sadly to be expected. What I cannot abide is this lack of fucking PROFESSIONALISM!” I screamed the last word into his face and he tried to dig himself into the packed soil that made up the floor of the tent. I flicked out a foot and he was sent skidding away from me with a yowl of pain.
“Lord. I take it you’re not happy?” came Haylin's voice from the entrance. I turned and fought to control my glare as the coven filed in and nodded politely to me. I swept the dust from my chair and sat down to face them.
“What the hell happened Haylin? We were finely tuned when I left. Now sentries are bunking off and that shit-” I waved a hand at the groaning patriarch, “- is fondling women in my command tent.”
“The Jagarnyn are twice our number, Mond. You also took most of your own warriors with you to Hellath,” she replied with a slight shrug. “It’s normal for the stronger clans to lead while the king is away.”
“And I wasn’t fucking happy about it!” cursed Atas as he stormed into the tent. “We were never the weaker clan! Numbers mean nothing when we have witches and warriors blessed by a Shikrakyn! I take it you aren’t happy about the loss of discipline, Lord?”
“I am not.” My voice rang out like tombstones slamming atop one another. “I came back to check on things then head north against the Ur-viles. I didn’t expect things to have gone to shit in my absence. I trust weapon production hasn’t fallen off? We’ll need steel for when the other survivors get here.”
“Survivors?” barked Khan as he finally joined us. He blew out his moustache with a whoosh of breath as he grinned down at Hastahyp. “Ah good. That prick finally gets his justice. I bloody told you Mond would kill you when he got back.”
“Why’s the training stopped?” I asked my patriarchs. “The only riders moving out there are Mondyn acting as scouts. They were meant to be training Jagapan’s people!”
“Hyp here decided it was time to focus on more traditional practices,” Khan said. “The herds have dispersed to the south and most of his warriors are out guarding them,” Atas replied.
“I didn’t see them as we ran north.” I fixed Hastahyp with narrowed eyes. “Where are my herds, little man?”
“We had too many beasts! They’d have stripped half the steppe clean! I sent some to traders I know in the south. We’ll get a good price in salt!” he gasped.
“I don’t need salt. And we don’t need to worry about forage.” I cast Rapid growth at his feet and the seeds long dormant in the soil across the entire tent burst out of the ground and grew to four feet in height in a couple of seconds. I’d forgotten I’d upgraded all my magic. I expected the ground around the tent would need trimming as well. “You know we have magic to negate that kind of shit. You knew we had magic…” He tried to move away but the grass had wound around him as it grew, locking him in place.
“I demand to be judged by my own king. Not an upstart like you!” he snapped. Kos moved too fast for me to intercept him from my sitting position. The long grass didn’t bother my brother-in-law in the least. A steel blade flashed and the bastard's head rolled away into the suddenly long grass.
“It was in the interests of the clan,” said Khan as I rose to my feet angrily. “You cannot be disrespected like that. Not anymore. Now, you mentioned survivors earlier and didn’t explain. What happened at the festival?”
I explained the events and the attack of the horde. I made sure to stress that most of our troops escaped and that Fay in particular was safe. Khan glowered but seemed somewhat mollified at the way things had worked out.
“You think the others will drive their herds to us?” asked Atas excitedly.
“I don’t know but I think Calpakter probably will, along with at least a few of the others. There’ll be bands of undead wandering the steppe until we can put them all down,” I answered. Atas snorted at me like a horse.
“Calpakter will ride to us. He’s always wanted what he calls a ‘proper war’ against the shit-sitters,” offered Mune.
“Your betters are speaking, boy. Mind your place!” barked Khan.
“Father. Mune is one of my closest lieutenants. He’s welcome to speak when he wishes. What the hell has happened while I’ve been away? Have you all forgotten how things were?”
“That-” Atas waved a hand at the corpse, “- made things difficult. We’ve all been scratching at each other like chickens in a too small coup, haven’t we old friend?” He addressed the last part to Khan who nodded reluctantly.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been… angry. A lot of the time. And now we have a fucking war on our hands!” he grinned and rubbed his hands together in what I took to be glee. “We should send riders to recall the herds. Then we can start training the new cavalry formations again!”
“Do it. Jandak is issuing some discipline to the sentries that were slacking off. Just broken arms, not death!” I added hastily as both patriarchs flashed their teeth at me. Their expressions fell slightly. “We’ll need all the strength we can muster but a little pain is an excellent reminder for the future.” I grinned back at them and they chuckled.
“So no more being stuck away in our tents? We can go back to full production of trinkets and growing fodder?” asked Haylin.
“He had you… Yes. Of course, please do. Shit, what’s the damage on trinket production been?” I asked. She smiled slightly and winked.
“Not so bad. We’ve had materials ferried into us in our isolation.” Her voice was bitter. “He didn’t dare to stop that or his own women would have gelded him. Send Jandak to me when he gets here please?” she asked with a slight raise to her left eyebrow.
“I will. He won’t be able to stop for long,” I warned.
“He never takes very long!” Haylin herded the rest of the coven out of the tent as Mune and Kos broke into gravely chuckles that were a counterpoint to the giggles of the women.
“Kos, Mune, I want you breaking heads - not literally - while I’m away.” My Fangs had both cracked their knuckles at the promise of violence. “Just get everyone back in order. I want squadrons training in the archer/lancer combination and the sentries to be doing their fucking jobs!” They nodded to me and left the tent, leaving me alone with my patriarchs.
“Why didn’t you use the coven to take back control?” I asked after waving for Atas and Khan to sit. They swept aside the long grass and lowered themselves down opposite me, heads poking out above the blades like meerkats.
“Women can’t perform such tasks,” muttered Khan.
“These women can. They can all beat any unenhanced warrior black and blue without breaking a sweat,” I countered.
“Not can’t then. Shouldn’t,” Atas said. “It would have caused more splits in the alliance. Without Jagapan or you here to push against tradition the herd might have been split and we can’t afford to lose the strength.”
“How do I get the warriors of both tribes to respect the coven? They’re second only to you two and are able to smash small armies with their spells. They need to be respected.”
“They are respected! They’re women for Aresk’s sake! That doesn’t mean the tribes will let them fight or command warriors though,” snapped Khan with a shake of his head. He stood up and began pacing back and forth, creating a line of flattened grass.
“Perhaps some trials? Let the women compete in warrior games to show just how strong they are?” suggested Atas.
“We can throw a feast when Kril and Fay get back with the rest of the warriors. I’ll want our troops training against Jagapan’s boys as well. Make sure they understand the real balance of power, just in case.” I stood up and smiled at my council. “I’m going to the pass to see Klip. I’ll only be gone a few hours.”
“He’s not there. Nor is Sulk. They’ve left the smelters to the apprentices and journeymen. Our dear smiths spend all day arguing with each other at Riverwheel and fighting over access to the machines,” grumbled Khan.
“Machines?” I raised a hopeful eyebrow.
“Hammers and saws and whatnot. The third wheel is under construction. Should be ready to drop into the stream in a few days. Then, Aresk willing, they’ll quit bitching at each other,” Khan said.
I reached out and borrowed Glimpse’s senses for a moment. Jandak was strolling along behind the last group of five scouts that had been slacking. They were each cradling their left arms across their chests and getting kicked in the arse every time they tried to slow down. Jandak looked like a kid in a sweet shop, a broad smile on his craggy face. I called the bird back to me and he flew towards the town and passed over towards my industrial centre with a gentle mental request to direct him.
“It’ll take me a bit longer to get to Riverwheel but not so long that anything can go wrong while I’m away. I’ll leave getting this place back on a war footing to you and the Fangs. Anyone who gives you any shit will regret it when I get back.” I left them muttering and planning, half hidden in the long grass and strode outside.
The boost to my rapid growth spell had resulted in five metres of grass outside the tent shooting up to waist height. I sighed as I kicked my through it. I’d need to be careful with my spells. My fireballs had a massive volume now and could pose a real risk of friendly fire if I screwed up.
I kicked up dust as I headed north then veered east. Someone had cut and laid a proper road from the Pass down to the new site. It wasn’t up to Roman standards I was sure but it was a considerable improvement over rutted muddy tracks. The road was wide, broad enough to let a wagon pass in either direction and from Glimpse I could see four wagons were constantly on the move, strung out along the road. Two headed down to the river with refined metals and the other pair heading back west laden with food stuffs and salted fish.
Riverwheel was now a town in its own right. A proper one surrounded by tall wooden walls and in amongst the yurts were simple wooden cabins. At the centre of the little town, on both banks, stood the large, ever turning wheels. Bridges connected the workshops that were serviced by the wheels and black smoke was pouring into the sky around my nascent industrial hub. Beyond the town to the east wagons rattled back and forth across the steppe filled with charcoal and roughly cut logs to be dried and eventually used as fuel.
As I strode up to the wooden gate a guard from a walkway on the other side of the wall challenged me and I called up to him with my name. He vanished and a moment later there was a crunch as a bar was pulled off the gates and the right one swung open.
“Lord! Welcome to Riverwheel!” he said proudly. He was one of mine, not a Jagarnyn, as were all the guards here. I supposed guarding a shit sitter town had been beneath his own people in Hastahyp’s eyes. I made a mental note to make sure his body was removed from the command tent and given a decent burial when I got back. Forgetting the corpse in my hall worried me slightly, I had always been a little emotionally disconnected but now there was a faint worry that I was going feral like my nomads.
All thoughts ceased as I arrived at the forges in person and the sight and the smell of the place washed over me. My hands itched to grab a hammer and just bash some metal to make something for a change and as I moved into an open sided forge to offer them a hand for a little while a rough paw descended onto my shoulder and clamped tight. It was covered in soot, ash and an intricate pattern of burn marks.
“Well, what do you think?” grinned Klip as he pointed around the forge complex.
