Of Men and Dragons

B'arthon looked over the remnants of the battlefield and didn't like what he saw. Dek'thul Stood at his side, silently overlooking what was quickly becoming a temporary camp to treat the salvageable injured. The young Lord fumed. This was a tremendous waste of resources.

Turning to the hunting chief, the much smaller argu'n's voice took on a dangerous edge. "You weren't supposed to engage! How did you let things get so far out of hand! And how'd you lose so completely! You should have at least taken a sizable chunk of their army with you!"

Dek'thul frowned. "They didn't give us much choice. We found what we thought was the tail end of their caravan and chased it to offer some light harassment, as you instructed. Turns out, it was a trap. Their workers lay hidden behind the ridge with those new ranged weapons we'd heard about from the few who'd returned to us from the outpost last winter. Then S'haar herself led another charge to box us in. With no way to push forward or retreat, they simply rained down those tiny spears to deadly effect. We stood no chance."

B'arthon glared at the hunter a little longer. "And yet you seem to have gotten out without even a scratch. The only one in the entire army, I might add. How'd you pull that little miracle off?"

The much larger male shrugged. "I'm a hunter and sometimes assassin, not a warrior. Much like you, I don't lead from the front. Instead, I put an actual warrior familiar with leading argu'n into battle in charge of the actual assault while I lurked around in the shadows. Initially, I was hoping to catch some of their leadership unaware, but once I realized what was happening, I decided to stay and observe everything so I could relay that information to you. I figured that if a portion of the army was lost, at least you'd know everything that happened."

B'arthon bristled internally at the apparent dig at his own leadership style but kept his cool. Dek'thul was far too valuable of an asset to throw away, even for a failure as monumental as this one. Still, the noble would think twice about trusting him with command again.

Looking back over the remnants of the battle, the noble continued. "Well then, what knowledge can you give me? How this happened might be important, but other survivors could have told me that. Do you have anything else of value to share?"

Dek'thul nodded. "I can tell you where they went. At first, they seemed to double back, but after less than a mile, they turned west and climbed over a hill headed for a valley bordered by a mountain to the south. They have less than a half day's lead, and they're exhausted from the fight. You can probably still catch them if you'd like, though you'd want to leave as soon as possible."

B'arthon nodded before grunting in frustration. "At least this wasn't a total waste. We're going to have to be smart. We still outnumber them by a wide margin, but they still have those ranged weapons, and I don't want to fall for another trap like this last one."

The hunter held out one of the small iron spears for B'arthon to take. The shaft of this one was bent near the cutting edge. "They still have the weapons, but if I'm correct, they could recover only about half their ammunition in their rush to leave. The rest was lost or unusable and left behind. They won't be so eager to engage a force more than twice as large as the last one they just defeated, even if they spring a trap similar to the one before."

The noble growled. "I don't like winning battles through attrition. It's so... wasteful. Still, I suppose I should be glad for every advantage we have."

B'arthon's new second in command, a male named Hal'dek, walked up and bowed slightly, then waited for orders. He was competent, no more, but no less. He'd been the guard captain of one of the few villages that had actively resisted Lord A'ngles. He'd led an effective, if unimaginative, defense of the city walls that had delayed A'ngles enough that B'arthon'd promoted him to a minor Lord's status and insisted on his presence in his army. Then, the noble compensated the new Lord adequately to ensure his loyalty. Finally, B'arthon answered the male's unspoken question. "Give the survivors some tents and supplies. Those that are only lightly injured can tend to the rest. Assign two hunters to feed the camp and have the rest of our army prepare to move. Our chase is not yet over." Hal'dek nodded and walked off to see that the noble's orders were fulfilled.

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Dek'thul grinned at B'arthon. "Quite the tame Arlack you've got there. Think he'll get the job done?"

The noble glared at Dek'thul as he answered. "Maybe, maybe not, but I doubt he'll lose a third of my army with so little to show for it!"

The hunter threw back his head and laughed while slapping B'arthon on the back. "You'd best hope not, or A'ngles may find himself a new successor!"

B'arthon glared at the hunter. "you realize if it comes to that, you'll likely find yourself out of his favor too, right?"

Dek'rhul's answering grin was as infuriating as his reply. "Oh, I doubt that, "young lord," there's always a need for a good hunter!"

As the hunter walked away with a hearty laugh, Vox'thon spoke up from a pouch at B'arthon's side. "Why do you keep hunting them? Why... Why can't we just let them leave? A small group like that isn't a threat to your father's new empire. So why can't you just let them run away and disappear?"

The noble sighed, looking at the small iron spear that should have been utterly ineffective given its size but managed to turn what should have been a victory into a heretofore unimaginable defeat. "We chase them because they won't stay small and are already a threat. No matter where they go, argu'n will flock to them. No matter what they do, stories will be told about them. Even if they die today, they'll remain the biggest threat to my father's empire tomorrow unless we can prove how flawed their ideals truly are."

B'arthon looked off into the distance, seeing a future that might never ever exist. "If given a chance, what my father is trying to achieve will be to villages what villages were to hunting tribes. Entire groups of our population will no longer face the risk of extinction at the appearance of a mated pair of wolgen, a deep freeze, or a group of raiders. Instead, the skills and resources of a greater whole can be brought to bear against these threats, rendering them insignificant in the face of our collective might!"

When Vox'thon spoke up, she sounded confused. "But isn't that what Jack is also trying to do? Didn't he already overcome all three of those threats?"

B'arthon smiled grimly and shook his head. "Our goals may be similar, but the foundation those goals are built on are not. Us argu'n are strong and prideful. Getting us to change our ways takes a leader with an iron will. Jack hopes to cohere our people into working toward a greater good by leading through example and hoping we'll simply choose to follow. That might work in times of peace with a leader as charismatic as himself or S'haar, but it'll fall apart when they face any real hardship!"

This time the AI's voice sounded challenging. "You mean like right now? Being chased across the countryside by a supirior force?"

B'arthon frowned and dropped the small iron spear into the dirt at his feet. "Yes, like now, when they're struggling to survive while running out of people and resources in hostile territory. They may have won a battle, but they'll lose the war."

Vox'thon made one last attempt. "But what if they don't lose? What if they win?"

B'arthon turned, seeing his army ready to continue the chase. "If they win, then I'm wrong, they're right, and our people will be better off for it. But they'll have to prove it to me in blood and steel before I'll trust my entire people's fates to an outsider's hands. That's how change is made, not by good intentions or kind words but by the hands of those with enough skill and determination to bend the world around us to our will. So I intend to either be said argu'n or see them win against everything I can bring against him."

-

S'haar walked beside Jack, who rode on in silence, his eyes fixed on a distant horizon. Several things might be bothering him, but she suspected she knew what weighed heaviest on his mind right now. "We can hold a ceremony later, you know."

Jack's expression made it clear he was wondering if S'haar was reading his mind somehow before he answered. "But how can we hold a ceremony if we left his body behind? We should have brought him with us!"

S'haar shook her head. "We didn't have time, and besides, the shell that was Ger'ron isn't important. Everything that made him who he was is gone, and all that's left is fertilizer for the soil. Any ceremony is more for those of us he left behind. His shell is not a necessary part of that."

Jack looked into the distance again. "Maybe it's just the human in me, but that's hard for me to accept."

S'haar rested a hand on Jack's shoulder, and when he looked back again, she tightened her grip just a bit to try to pass some comfort along. "You know it's not your fault, right? He was a guard his whole life, and protecting his people is what he did, and he did it with pride. His final act, after a long life filled with many successes and failures, was an act of protection. He went out on his own terms, doing that which gave his life meaning. He'll be missed, but his story lives on through us and you."

Jack was straining his eyes in a failed attempt to keep the tears from flowing, and S'haar squeezed her human's shoulder again. His voice was barely above a whisper and shook slightly as he answered. "I hope...I can live up to the burden of his story."