The Shadowbearer (An Aegis of the Gods Book)

Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

“You have done well, Vencel,” Stefan said. “And you, Master Gavril.” He nodded to the Banai. “This is better than I expected.”

“Is least I could do,” Gavril said. The bald–headed Banai spoke slowly in a garbled accent. He had a tendency to leave out some words. “You saved me from arena. Brought me home. I am in your debt.”

Merchant Vencel shrugged. “Nerian ruined trade. Taxes are so high in Benez I don’t go there anymore. The other major cities are almost as bad and he’s taken a particular interest in the black market too. In times like these a man has to seek a new future.”

Dressed in his usual silks, Vencel often made it seem riches were his only concern. Yet, he was more loyal and honorable than many soldiers.

“It good doing this,” Gavril said. “Your men work long hours. They make good Banai.”

Stefan laughed. Kasimir would cringe if he heard himself referred to as one of the short, bald–headed race. “Without you two, this wouldn’t be possible. All these years of breeding and training raised this many.”

The two men puffed up with pride.

“This day was a long time coming,” the Knight Commander added as he took in the vast, lush plains with their abundant orchids. He sniffled, suppressing another sneeze from the perfumed scents. In the distance to the east rose the Ost Mountains. They had chosen this location for the abundance of dartans and its remoteness at the edge of Banai territory.

In the field below them was the focus of Stefan’s enthusiasm, pride, and hope. Dartans. Thousands of them, all with the spaces cut into their shells to allow a rider. Each of them trained to be more docile by the use of shocksticks, the Banai beast–taming methods, and breeding. That day, back in Seti at the arena, a plethora of ideas had come to mind when he saw what he’d dreamed of long ago: a dartan under control and used as a mount. Not only were the beasts faster than the Erastonians by far, but he’d tested them against the sharpest swords, even divya. It was near impossible to penetrate their armored skin or the carapace on their back.

Swords slashing at imaginary foes, spears jabbing, Kasimir and six thousand of Stefan’s men rode the animals, wheeling them in tight formations. Despite being twice or three times the size of a large horse, the beasts ran with speed and grace. Unlike riding a horse, there was no uncomfortable jounce. Their padded feet made little noise on the ground. In nondescript clothing, the soldiers hunkered down in the saddle within the cutout. The seat itself was a separate hump within the space to allow the men’s legs to drop to the side with their feet resting on notches carved from the shell. It had taken Stefan several months to learn to ride the creatures, and he thought himself decent at the task. His men made him appear clumsy.

These dartans were the latest stock, not needing shocksticks to be controlled. He could picture a battle now, the dartans charging, barreling anyone from their path while their jaws tore into an enemy soldier’s flesh. Precise attacks from the riders finished the job. Mastering weapons atop the mounts would take additional work, but his men already had a good grasp for the technique.

Stefan waved to Kasimir. The time had come to put their new mounts to a test.

******

 After days of hard riding northwest, that would have normally taken several weeks on horseback, they arrived at their destination—an encampment at a series of hills overlooking the meandering banks of the Tantua River where it split off to form the Kalin River. Moss hung like soggy, disheveled hair from the trees along the muddy banks of swampland. Stefan grimaced at the foul air’s taste that managed to drown out the mustiness of his three thousand strong dartan cavalry. At this time of year, the water should be flowing freely, but the recent lack of rain made that near impossible. In the distance farther north, a wall of gigantic evergreen trees marked the border of the Mondros Forest and Harnan territory.