Chapter 3

Klarg

"Ah, Klarg my friend, please sit and join me in a glass of Jholaix. It appears we have won a great victory this day".

"Appears?" the wizard repeated, as the swarthy faced Chulik gratefully sat down with Gloag in the sturdy chairs provided.

"Yes Klarg, appears. But more on that later. I have more needs of your, er, services. You were invaluable in this campaign and I won’t forget you. But for now I need a great favor and ask your aid in locating someone very dear to me and to all of Paz perhaps." While carefully polishing both his jewel encrusted tusks, Klarg’s eyes narrowed tightly in the manner of his race and considered the request.

"You know I must make preparations for something so complex, Gloag. This I will gladly do as you and others of your Island have given me a home. And me, a Chulik!"

"No book should be judged by its cover Klarg. When our paths first met in Calabra, I was newly arrived from Zenicce with my expeditionary force from that city and Vallia itself. You on your own, had already committed to resisting those Leem-Lovers. That is something I can never forget and I know now that not all Chuliks are bereft of humanity. This you have shown me."

"So then" responded the savage looking mage, "who is that is so important to you that my going into lupu is required. I tell you friend Gloag, there are visitations on the planes best left unseen, but this risk I will take."

"Shusha , who is not my aunt, Klarg. It is she that needs be found and right quickly ! I know what you need and here is her bracelet. Her essence can be traced from it when you travel by lupu."

Gazing at the exquisitely wrought piece of gold wrist adornment, Klarg thoughtfully rubbed a coarse thumb across his gristled chin and murmurred softly, "yes my friend, I think this pretty bauble will do nicely. Let me begin my preparations in my tent and we shall see what we shall see."

"Indeed" thought Gloag, "just what will you see Klarg?"

Later in the day, as the mingled rays from twin suns of Antares sank below the vast steppes just inland from the coastal encampment, Gloag was summoned by one of Klarg’s acolytes, a young Mehztan by the name of Dorl. Following impatiently he entered the austere looking tent and so to the inner precincts within. There Klarg awaited and gestured to his old comrade Gloag to join him on the ponsho wove rug in cross legged fashion. Then looking him straight in his beady Chulik eyes, he stated "Tell me. Can I speak with Shusha across the void, for I must if I am to gain an advantage against the Schturgins." Smiling in a grim fashion, Klarg only nodded and then began make foreign sounding utterances that it seemed were prepatory to sending his spirit out on the etherial planes, in lupu. Holding the bracelet of Shusha tightly, the mages eyes soon rolled back until only the whites showed. Then the eyes slowl closed and stayed that way for a short time, opening with an almost piercing movement. And then, then, it happened ! Klarg’s mouth opened but it was no grating Chulik voice that spoke next but that of a voice not heard since that long ago day Great-Aunt Shusha donned her hunting feathers and set out for the fabled city of the Savanti, Aphrasoe, the Swinging City.

"My dear Gloag, I see the seasons have not treated you cruelly, though I do detect lines of dread responsability on your beloved face. Come now, close your mouth fambly and tell Shusha what it is you are in need of. "

Closing as ordered and then opening again, to speak, Gloag essayed a tentative greeting. "What, no lahal between us? If nothing else I remember my manners My Lady Shusha, and I Gloag, your eternal servant, bid you a most hearty lahal."

Through Klarg’s focused eyes came the strong yet feminine reply, "Lahal old friend, lahal. But to business we must needs go, for this form of communication is temporary and taxing to both your wizardly Chulik and myself. Again I ask, what is it Shusha can help you with Gloag?"

Glancing down momentarily at the cheap woven rug at his feet and then rallying his thoughts, the Mehztan opened with, "Schturgins, My Lady, dambed rasts of Leem-Lovers have scourged my ancestral homeland and though beaten off, made good their escape. They flee back to there coastal haven in Schan, there no doubt to lick their wounds before having another stab at conquest here in Paz." Here Gloag paused before renewing his verbal diatribe that encompassed all his recent woes but before he could gather the wind necessary to do so, Shusha broke in.

"Dear Gloag, I know all of which you speak and have observed your great victory from afar, here in Aphrasoe. My heart is near bursting with joy at the success of your campaign. The yrium flows out of you and -

"Not so My Lady!", interjected the shocked diff. "I simply did what needed doing. The yrium is not for the likes of me. Only the Great Ones like My Lord and Lady of Strombor, along with Dray’s greatest comrade Seg. For it is he who is already legendary for always being at the side of the Warlord of Paz or Emperor of Emperors, as others say. Often and often I have gazed at my comrades and envied them the yrium they exude but affect not to notice. Though I have never doubted their sincerity of friendship, I have always felt the gulf, even if they have not. Furthermore I -"

"Fambly! Dolt!" screamed Shusha through the now widely opened mouth of Klarg. "Now is not the time for false modesty or personal recriminations. Now is the time for action! But before we decide how best to rersolve your problem, know this, as you feel sorry for yourself. Dray Prescot, the so-called Emperor of Emperors, is indeed a mighty man, as he must be. What other kind of man would be chosen by powers far mightier than the Savanti to carry out their will in Paz and yes Schan too! But consider this Gloag. Dray is bogged down in Loh and Tambu right now, with his other vaunted comrades and Delia herself at his side. While the tide has turned down south the matter still hangs in the balance. Not so here in Mehzta! You Gloag, with far less to work with driven out the fish heads and now you wish to exterminate that same band of reivers. Did you think it was your roguish good looks that accomplished this? Hardly, though I do know of your, er, tastes in ladies."

Here Gloag figited uncomfortably and shuffled his feet, in obvious embarassment. The redness that crept up his face, was evidence of his personal awareness concerning his penchant for multiples of lovers, from all walks of life in Zenicce and not relegated to any specific races. But alas, no wife. Often Kov Seg had jokingly inferred that both he and Kov Turko were the worst of male sluts. That was OK to hear from a comrade, but from Shusha! Controlling the shudder that wracked his massive frame, he raised his eyes to Klarg’s and Shusha continued, having clearly enjoyed the interlude.

"Yes Gloag, you have the yrium and clearly must step from the shadow of Dray. Now you wish to punish the Schturgins who wreaked such havoc on your Island. But consider this, are these Shanks really your ultimate foes? Enemies indeed, but to get to the soul of the problem one must know the causes. Dear Gloag, I tire now and must release our friend Klarg, but return at mid-day tomorrow with him and be prepared for a journey, a journey the likes you and most Pazzians have never seen before and never will again! But chew on what I have said. Perhaps it that which drives the Shanks that needs dealing with ..."

And Klarg blinked.

"Welcome back my friend" declared Gloag as returning normalcy dawned on the Chulik’s fierce features."And thank you for the loan." A tigrish grin appeared on Klarg’s visage as he retorted "mock me if you will, but know this, Shusha could not have accomplished her visitation in any sort of mage with one whit less power than I have amassed, and furthermore ..." here Gloag stopped him with a raised and hairy forearm. "Peace, my friend, I only sought to lighten a very serious and mysterious moment. You have my sincere thanks friend Klarg, but you must be ready at mid-day tomorrow, for exactly what I don’t know but I surely mean to find out!"

After bidding farewell to the Chulik wizard, Gloag slowly made a round of his encampent, stopping here and there to confer with both commanders and swods alike. The burs fled as the Mehztan explored all corners , taking the measure of his men. Sticking his bullet-shaped head into one particular tent, Gloag was pleased to see Prince Vanden,the son of his friends Prince Varden and Princess Natema, of the House of Eward in Zenicce. The young man was poring over some documents along witha fellow with his back turned, when he espied his commander and old friend. "Come Gloag. Join Nath and I in a wet. We were just going over the lists of supplies needed for our journey to Schan." And sure enough, Nath the Thief turned around to greet his comrade of many an adventure with his lopsided grin. "Yes, pull up a chair Gloag, by Diproo the Nimble-fingered, I was saving this bottle of Zond for a special occassion and this surely qualifies."

Thinking that tommorrow could wait, as surely it must, Gloag gratefully entered Vanden’s tent while the sandy-haired Nath worked the cork loose from his precious bottle of Zond wine, obtained from who knows where and better left unsaid. The Prince carefully put away the lists and maps while his two friends bellied up to the heavy wooden table, ready to put aside the troubles of Kregen for awhile, for without such interludes, life loses its luster and becomes jaded. Looking across at the grimly working Nath and the expectant Vanden, Gloag supposed that this could be one humdinger of a night. And it was!

"Vanden you scamp, you don’t remember when I was slave to your mother", Gloag reflected. He then took a long draft of the sweet vintage and wiped his moistened lips on the worn sleeve of his jersey. Nath, seeing the protesting look on the young yet battle proven face, laughingly told Vanden " fret not, for all of us have been through the fire, the flames of which have strengthened our current bonds and made us the men we are today.

"I know that Uncle Nath, but it pains me so to know that you and Uncle Gloag were slaves of my mother in the long ago." Both Nath and Gloag were not blood related to Vanden or each other, but both were more than pleased at the affection shown them by the royal scion of the House of Eward. They had both taken it upon themselves to help their comrade Varden in the raising of his spoiled son. The result of their teamwork was sitting here with them, in Nath’s tent on the bleek shore of an unknown sea, where hundreds of dwa-burs away to the east, their fate awaited...

"Your mother has changed into a great lady Vanden who cares about the welfare of her people and friends. The past is behind us. Isn’t that right my old dom?" exclaimed Nath while swirling the contents of his latest swig around the recesses of his mouth. Glancing at his companion of old and feeling the weight of decades bearing down on him but tempered with the realization that true friendship had been gained along the troubled way, Gloag replied, "That she has Nath. The Houses of Strombor and Eward, along with the Wickens and Rheinmans form the greatest and most powerful alliance in the known history of Zenicce. Much of that is due to Natema, your beautiful mother. Now, if Dray were here ..." And the tales wended their way and some oft retold grew in the telling, as is ever the way when warriors and wine meet, between battles.

Burs upon burs later, bottles upon bottles later as well, Vanden ventured a probing stab, "and my grandfather?" Here Nath and Gloag eyed the youth uncomfortably, and returned to their Zond. They knew darn well he spoke of his mother’s side of the family. After a brief silence, Nath responded. "Vanden, as you know, your mother’s father was the Head of the House, the Cydones Esztercari, the Kodifex of the city of Zenicce itself. At least he was until Dray Prescot led the Ewards and allied Houses to victory over the Esztercari. The end result was its destruction and the rebirth of Strombor. Your grandfather, the Cydones was a mighty Lord but cruel. He stood in the way of change and as is the way of our world, fell from a very lofty height.

"But what happened to him Nath? Despite his shortcomings, he was my grandfather and I deserve to know his fate!"

Here Gloag picked up the tale. "On the night of your grandfather’s fall from power, there was total chaos and blood everywhere. For the victory was not easily won. I remember Dray leading us warriors of the allied houses with your father Varden in the vanguard and Nath among the Clansmen, into the inner courts of House Esztercari where the remnants of its nobles had gathered for their last stand. There in a great battle, Dray Prescot defeated their champion Galna, in personal combat, thus effectively ending the battle." Here Gloag reflected on Natema’s horror before Varden released her from it. This he kept quiet on but the thought that Dray was unusually cruel to her that day, crossed his mind. Not that Natema didn’t deserve her moments of terror, but still ...

"And the Cydones, my grandfather" pushed Vanden? What of him. Can you tell me?"

Taking a last sip of the Zairian wine and throwing the bottle in a darkened corner of the tent with the others, Nath again took up the thread. "It was always assumed that he had died during the carnage and pillaging that resulted on that fateful day, though we tried as ordered, to keep such to a minimum. We knew Great-Aunt Shusha would resurrect Strombor and that with your father’s and his father’s (Wenek) conniving, make Dray the new Lord of Strombor. And so it came to pass, but the body of Cydones was never found. There were hints from the captured remnant of nobles (later enslaved) that he had escaped his just fate and made off for parts unknowm, but that is conjecture only. We think he died defending his House. Is that not enough for any man?"

Accepting Nath’s words and sensing the night’s roistering was coming to a fitful close, the three comrades rose from their chairs (if somewhat unsteadily), embraced without words (for such are unneeded at times like this), and retired to face the coming day and all it foretold. But Gloag reflected as he made his way back to his commander’s tent, "it is a night such as this that makes all the pain and suffering in life worth it. To be blessed with comrades such as Nath and Vanden , aye and Klarg and others of his chosen band as well. that had accompanied his expeditionary forces landing on the far western shore of Mehzta lo those many seasons ago. And then to kick back and relax over some good vintage Zond (but not get stinking drunk).What a night to be remembered!"