The Wolf, the Butterfly, and the Kraken

Chapter 30

Joann
I could not sleep. I was terrified and anxious, and excited. If this worked we could make an enormous difference in the area for a while, maybe even open up long term solutions. It started tomorrow. With me. With Vam.
It would be dangerous. Either one, or both of us could be killed. Vam was going to speak with the raiders. To do this he had to find them, and make the offer. And hopefully they would not consider him a traitor, and rip his head off. I was to walk under a standard of peace with my clan symbol on it, and speak to the warriors, making the offer to them as well. The offer that Lord Eureces and the other officers had put forth.
I was up well before the sun. I washed well, and made certain my clothing and standard were in order. I ate a simple breakfast, afraid I would throw up everything from my nerves. I hugged Vam tightly when my escort came for me.
He hugged me back, smelling of applewood, and rumbled, “Be honorable, brave, and safe. I love you.”
If I spoke I might start crying, and not get anything done, so I nodded, smoothed the front of his tunic, and left.
I grew more nervous with each step. We climbed into a boat that was supposed to carry me near where the Lycants were camping along the ocean. Then I would be on my own. From my river view I could see the Lycant warriors and the Veneran elementals doing battle. Sharp blades battled against smaller men. Fire blasted here and there. Dust blinded warriors. But that didn’t stop them. The warriors fought on, half blinded, and burnt. I would be stepping into their camp soon.
As we reached where the river met the ocean a strange calm settled over me. I put my finger in the water, and sent Isa to greet Oarhu. I missed Oshie. I wanted to do well here, and go back to him. Oarhu sent small reassurances back through Isa, and a warning. We were about 30 or 40 feet from the beach, where warriors were gathering, watching us. “Stop,” I ordered my escort.
“But why?”
“There are sentries in the water. I will go on my own from here.”
“And just exactly how do you plan to do that?”
I stood up unsteadily in the boat, seeing a tentacle come out of the ocean. I smiled, “I have friends.” I stepped onto the watery tentacle of a kraken, to the oarman’s shock, and it carried me to the beach.
The warriors swiftly backed away as I bid Oarhu goodbye. A tentacle that reached far enough up in the sky to crash over both armies waved bye bye to me, just like Oshie did. My fear was gone as I held my standard, and faced the warriors around me.
I bared my throat in a respectful greeting, “I am Joann of the Red Moon Green Scythes clan, house of Vam. I have come to speak to the battlemaster in charge. I can wait here, or we could meet elsewhere.”
They growled uncertainly. Apparently word of my meron had traveled even to these shores. They genuinely did not know what to do with this unarmed, but clearly very powerful, sorceress. I was under a truce flag, spoke their language, and was from a respected clan. But I was Veneran, and on Veneran soil. And I had been brought to them, at least part way by Veneran soldiers.
I sighed. “I understand the predicament you are in. It is my greatest wish that someday my son joins your ranks as an honorable warrior, in a battlepack as fierce as this one. I would never betray the layout of your camp. If I don’t know, I can't say anything. However, I do need to speak to the battlemaster.”
I went and calmly sat on a boulder to keep out of the wet sand. Then I waited while 20 large, muscular Lycants watched me. The sun rose higher into the sky until it was directly overhead before the warriors around me shifted their position slightly.
A huge brown and grey Lycant stepped towards me. He wore his family sigil on his leather armor as proudly as he did fairly fresh burn marks on his neck and arms, no doubt earned while fighting a firecaster. He was wearing a familiar sigil. It was the same as Kiro’s, Vam’s tailor friend in Harbortown. I smiled, missing our farm deeply. “I am Joann of the Red Moon Green Scythes clan, house of Vam. Do you know Kiro in Harbortown?” I asked, baring my throat.
He swished his tail in warning, “I do not know you. Why are you here?”
“I am here as a messenger.”
“For the Veneran army,” he snarled.
“Women are not recruited into the Host, except as the occasional healer. They have asked me to work as a liason between our peoples because I am the only Veneran who can speak Lycant. The only way they could get me to do this is by promising they will not make me dishonor my clan. My son will someday earn valor in a battlepack, and it will not be my actions that keep him from that.”
The battlemaster asked, “What good are the promises of sorcerors?”
“I know that actions speak louder than words, and so do the leaders of the Host. We elementals have a way of discerning the truth from a lie. I have their honest words, thoughts, intentions, choices. They will not make me dishonor my clan.”
“And what do you get from being their messenger?”
“Did you see the kraken earlier?”
He snuffled an affirmative.
“That kraken is the spirit of the oceans, and is extremely powerful, and untamed. He is my toddler’s element. People don’t learn to control an element like that just anywhere. There is only one school in the entire world where it’s done, and it is very expensive. In exchange for being the liason between our people my son may attend that school. There he will learn how to hold the power of the ocean at his fingertips. Imagine sailing in calm waters while the storm rages. Picture traveling swift currents. Kraken getting out of your way, even in mating season. Not to mention having unsurpassed healing power.
“He has an extremely powerful element attached to him, but it’s wild. Just like you can’t attach a wild gren to a plow and expect it to do a hard days work without being tamed, so to must his element be tamed. Maybe both of them.”
“Both?”
“A fire element attached itself to him. It gave us quite a scare at Ambassador Dura’s by making the candle flame jump 3 feet. My son will be learning with the elite of Venera to control his elements. There is no one else in this world who can guide him through it. That is what I get, aside from far too much travel for my liking, being looked at like a traitor by both sides, and sometimes even a fancy meal.”
The battlemaster chuffed a laugh. He took a deep breath, and was thoughtful for a moment, “You may give me the message, but be warned you will pay a price.”
I lifted my chin, “No honorable member of the Red Moon Green Scythes clan would expect to pay less than what is owed.” I had no idea what this price would be. Would I lose a body part, or die?
“What is this message?” he asked.
“The commanders of the Veneran Host are aware that the kraken breeding season is keeping warriors from returning home in a timely manner, as well as a few raiders who were left behind. They understand that your warriors have earned valor, and the right to return peacefully to their homes, where this can be celebrated the way it should be. What the commanders are offering is the temporary use of a small village, where no Venerans reside anymore, for those warriors who have earned the right to return home. The village will be safe ground, where no one will attack them. The village is known to our people as Finton. It is on the other side of the river, and up it a little ways, on a spur of land at the base of the cliffs there.” I used the end of my standard to draw a quick map of it. “There’s only one small path that leads up the cliff. It winds back and forth.”
“My warriors would be trapped.”
I smiled, “Lord Eureces said you would say that. So they have given their word that none will go down the path to Finton without your permission. Your warriors may stay there, safely, until there is safe transportation for them to return across the water. We only ask that your warriors keep any raiders who are found in line.”
He was thoughtful for a bit, “Wait here.” He looked at a warrior, “Get her some water, and food.” I was so grateful. The days were cool, but the sun had still left me parched. Further, my small breakfast was long gone. He left the group guarding me. I wasn’t concerned though. I was with good men. They wouldn’t kill an unarmed woman of the Red Moon Green Scythes clan. It could cause problems between our clans if they did.
After a bit the warrior brought me some water, and jerky. The sun was getting lower in the sky when the battlemaster returned. He held cloth in one hand, and something else in the other. As he tied the cloth around my face, so I couldn’t see anything, he said, “Tell them this is from Battlemaster Rajit.” He placed the item in my hand. It felt light, like a scroll. Then he lifted me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried me. I didn’t fight him, or struggle. I heard the sounds of camp, and smelled the smells. At one point I smelled sickness, and rot. I figured those must be their healing tents.
The sounds of fierce battle came closer and closer. He stopped after a bit and let out a loud howl. The battle quieted immediately. He removed the cloth. “Make certain the Veneran commanders get this missive. If they accept these terms then I will see you in 3 days at sunrise. Honor?”
I nodded, baring my neck. “Honor.”
He approved, and proceeded to swipe a claw from my left shoulder to the wrist.
It hurt, but he didn’t hit any major veins. I was dripping blood as he pointed me to the front lines. I walked past wounded and dead Lycant warriors. Host soldiers grabbed me, and pulled me away from the stilled line of battle. They were muddy, and bloody, and hurt far worse than I was, and were asking if I was alright.
“I’m fine. Have someone send water and bandages to Lord Eureces tent.” As I left the silence continued. Fresh soldiers prepared for a new attack. I wanted to open the message and read it so badly, but knew I couldn’t, not until Lord Eureces had seen it.
News spread like wildfire through the camp that battle at the front had stopped. Lord Eureces was waiting outside his tent with a large smile for me. Then he saw my arm, “They hurt you?”
“It’s complicated. Basically it is a mark of honor. It’s just a scratch really.” I handed him the message. “This is from Battlemaster Rajit.”
He examined the seal. “What does this mean?”
“It’s his clan sigil. Like I am of the Red Moon Green Scythes clan, only he is of the Lake Moon clan. One of Vam’s friends is from the same clan, a tailor. Rajit is very distinguished. I gave him your message. He said that if you accept I will see him at dawn in 3 days.”
Lord Eureces was excited, and pursed his lips as he opened the scroll. Then his brow drew down. “How good are you at reading their writing?”
It was written in Lycant heiroglyphics. “I have learned to decipher, but it will take me time. Is Vam back? He could easily read this.”
“He has come and gone twice now. He even managed to bring back a hostage. Why don’t you see a healer about your cut, and start on translation?”
I eyed the honor I was given, and recalled how adamant Oyarg was that he keep the scars. “I have to keep the scarring. Just bring some water so I can clean it, and some bandages.”
He huffed, “Nonsense, let me help you.” As he set about cleansing my arm I wondered about this man, a Lord, cleaning my wound. He was so nice, but his slave was so- “What do you think of my manor in Centris?”
“I have never been in a building so grand.”
“Do you like your rooms?”
I covered a grin with my hand. “The rooms Tarlson originally offered us were lovely. Too lovely. Oshie would have broken things. We are quite comfortable in the servants quarters. Vam enjoys the company of Rey, and helping out on the grounds where he can. Though we both want to find steady work.”
“What do you think about Clarissa?” he asked.
“Is she the slave?”
His brow rose, stunned. “Yes, she is a slave, but don’t ever refer to her as that again.”
I contemplated the only interaction I’d had with her, “Saying she was cold would be an understatement.” I watched as he wrang blood out of the cloth and continued cleaning my wounds.
“She keeps herself distant from people because she has been badly hurt.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes. I had a feeling he had been the one who hurt her.
I bit my lip lightly, “I wore a collar once. It really hurt to have it put on me by the only person I thought I could trust. When it was removed I was very glad.”
He was silent as he wrapped my arm. When he was done he handed me the scroll. “Someday I hope to remove her collar, but for now I can’t. It’s all that keeps her alive.”
How sad. All that stood between her and death was a collar stating that she was a slave, another persons property. “Thank you for wrapping my arm. I will start translating this immediately.”
He nodded, “I will have food brought to you. Thank you for your service today.” He left the tent, and I sat down with my arm aching, and got to work.