(Part II) - Zarek ben Nadin Chronicles - A Warrior's Courage - Chapter #8

    “Look at you!”  Zarek grinned at the familiar voice.

    Natan’s shoulders had broadened, and his friend’s strong face was tan from the sun.  He wanted to embrace his friend, but he refrained and instead tilted his head forward. “Greetings Natan, it has been a long time, my friend.”

    “Formality becomes you, Zarek,” Natan smiled, and Zarek found his friend’s unbridled joy just as familiar as his voice.  His friend quirked a brow.  “I hear that you have done well for yourself.  You returned from battle triumphant, and you have been made Captain.”

    Zarek hid a grimace, it was a title he had not yet become accustomed to.  Even his new living quarters were different.  He did however, embrace the solitude of his chambers, and if it weren’t for his own personal bodyguards, he wouldn’t have been forced into company more often than he wished.

    Chief General Saliba had given him charge of his former battalion, and had scripted the transfer of other soldiers into his unit until his battalion number reached 500.  Zarek was at first wary of the new comers until he learned that several of the men were from his own home village, including Natan.

    He looked at his friend, “How have you been Natan?  Have you mastered your training?”

    Natan’s smile faltered, and dropped his gaze, “I have not.  You were right, I was not made for war, and I have fallen behind in training.  My lieutenants have put me on guard duty most of the time.  I think I exasperate them.”

    Zarek frowned.  “I am sure that isn’t the case.  Regardless of that, I can offer guidance.”

    “Really Zarek, you don’t have to.”

    “I must insist on this,” Zarek said lightly, “It is expected of personal guards to master such things.”

    Natan’s looked bewildered, “I don’t understand.”

    “I am adding you to my personal body guards.”

    Natan seemed surprised, and then pleased.  Zarek was glad, if he was going to trust anyone to watch his back, it would be Natan.  He gestured to the shadows and his four other guard materialized.  His friend paused mid-step as if startled by their appearance and Zarek had to hide a smile.  He motioned to Eparan.  “You will be taking orders directly from Eparan unless I give you another assignment.”  Zarek indicated the other three, “Husia, Gabri, and Malicu.  We will be training together.”

    “Together?” Nathan echoed.

    “Yes,” Eparan said, speaking for the first time since introductions had been made.  “Our Captain seems to prefer that.”  His tone suggested this to be a bit unusual for most Captains.

    Zarek felt a twinge of discomfort.  Since his promotion Eparan had not called him by his name without accompaniment of his title.  Sometimes Eparan picked the oddest thing to dig his heels in about.

    Natan grinned.  “So when do we begin?”

    Zarek unbuckled his cape and tossed it aside.  “Now is as good as time as any.”  He drew his sword with a soft whisper of metal.

    Natan paled, “But wait!  I do not have a sword.”

    “Then take mine.”  He lunged forward even as Natan’s eyes widened.  His friend gave a startled yelp and twisted away.

    “Zarek!”

    He ignored his friend’s panicked cry.  Lunging forward he swiped his sword again, this time it was so close that it grazed Natan’s shoulder.  He continued to wield his sword and was pleased to see Natan’s eyes narrow in focus, and he became lighter on his feet.

    Zarek pressed his lips together.  He wasn’t going to make it easy for Natan, and after several minutes both of them were sweating.  Zarek began calling out instruction.  “Fight like you would in battle.  Do what it takes so that when it ends, you are alive.”

    Natan stumbled and fell to the ground, but quickly flipped over onto his back and grabbing a fistful of sand, hurled it forward.  Zarek turned, but not soon enough.  Grains prickled his eyes and for a moment he was left blinking them away.  Natan slammed into him and they grappled on the ground for a brief moment, then he found himself on his back and looking up at the sword Natan held in his hand.

     Zarek smiled, “Well done, you have taken my sword.”

    Natan’s arm lowered and the sword clattered to the ground.  Zarek saw his friend’s flaring nostril, “I thought you were trying to kill me Zarek.”

    Getting to his feet, Zarek clasped his friend’s arm.  “No.  But you learned that you are well able to be a warrior.”

    Natan pressed a hand against the grazed shoulder.  “All the same, I would not wish to fight you every day.”

    Zarek threw back his head and laughed aloud.  It sounded strange, more of a rough sounding bark.  Natan looked startled but then begin laughed too; a warm, happy laugh which was in stark contrast to his own.

oOo

    The days passed quickly in much the same fashion.

     Early morning was roll call, before Zarek would oversee his men’s training.  In the late evening, he trained with his personal guards.  He pushed himself hard and the routine was rigid.  His guards weren’t always appreciative of this, but they became quicker and wilier with their sword work.  And Zarek found that he was learning from them too.

    Then they were called to put down a revolt from the Urartu Mountain tribes.  The barracks of men buzzed with excitement.  After several weeks of inactivity; they were finally going to get a chance for loot. 

     Zarek was making the final preparation for departure when Natan found him.

    “Why am I staying here?” his friend demanded.

    Mildly surprised by the sharpness in his friend’s tone, he turn.  “The battlefield is no place for you Natan, I need you as a guard and that is all.”

    Natan was not mollified however.  “I am a soldier, Zarek.  Give me a chance to prove myself.”

    Zarek set his jaw.  “No.”

    “Please Zarek.”  Natan said, his becoming less sharp and more desperate.

    “No.” Zarek turned back to the battle plans that he had been hastily scrawling on the parchment when Natan had interrupted him.  He rolled them up and put them in his leather carrier pouch.  “Trust me Natan; it is best you remain behind.  I have arranged for you to study while I am away.  The head priest, Uriti, will give you scrolls as I have asked him.”  He turned and looked at his friend squarely in the eyes.  “I would feel better if you stay here.  There may come a time where I will need your scholarly skills.  Please Natan.”

    His friend hesitated, then let out a breath.  “I’ll do as you ask.”  His tone was glum but compliant.

    Zarek was relieved that Nathan hadn’t pressed the issue further.

    The following day he went to speak with Chief General Saliba Abudemio.  He had spoken with the Chief General only a few times since his promotion, and his meetings with his commanding officer always went well, but nevertheless, he always breathed a sigh of relief when it was over.  Standing in the private halls of the Chief General, made Zarek anxious.

    Saliba looked up from the scroll he had been reading.  “I have reviewed your men several times.  And each time I have been impressed.  You were born to be a warrior.”

     Zarek hadn’t learn court ways well, but he knew he should return the compliment.  “I have learned much from the scrolls you have lent to me.”  He was sincere in saying this.  He recognized the effort Chief General had taken to help him develop his military tactics professionally.  Knowing that he couldn’t read, the General had included diagrams and drawing which Zarek had easily able to decipher.”

     “I have heard your men speak of you,” the General continued, “You lead them well.  I must admit that I was skeptical of your village men’s ability in becoming warriors.  You were different.  There are many rumors concerning you.  Rumors of lions and storms.  I understood you were a chief.”

    Zarek was unsure how to respond and so he kept his silence. 

     Saliba looked at him appraisingly.  “Once you have completed this assignment, would you be interested in becoming an elite guard?  Perhaps one of the King’s own personal body guards?  I have spoken of you and it would appear that he favors you.”

     “The favor of kings is fleeting,” Zarek murmured absentmindedly, recalling what Eparan had said.  Then realizing that he voice his thought aloud, he anxiously searched the General’s face for offence.

    Saliba however, chuckled, “No doubt.”  Then his face shadowed solemnly.  “Occasionally, for it does not happen in every lifetime, but occasionally, a King does not remove his favor.  If you secure his trust, then you will have a comfortable situation and have fear of nothing.”

    Zarek was silent for several moments.  At length he stood.  “I will think on what you have said.” The General nodded dismissively.

     With the interview over, Zarek took his leave.  He quickly found his men and led them from the city.  It was time to prove himself once again.

     After a long march, they came to the mountains.  Zarek searched the rocky outcropping before him.

     He had been given a map of this region which included the location of several mountain villages.  With the dessert far behind them, they walked through silent forests.  The following day, they joined forces with the overseeing garrison.  Still, they found no sign of the enemy. 

     By the third day, Zarek had the nagging feeling that perhaps they were walking into an ambush.  He grouped his men more closely together and sent scouts ahead of them.  With the advantage of being on horseback, he rode up and down the lines to make sure they stayed alert.  Eparan rode behind him doing the same.

    The following morning was foggy.  Zarek’s battalion and the patrol found themselves in a deep gully, sparsely populated by scrubby looking trees.  The warmth of the sun didn’t seem to penetrate the shadows.  Zarek couldn’t imagine why anyone would travel here, yet it was through here that the path led.  He sent a company of scouts through and they had returned a short while later, still he was uneasy.  His horse shifted underneath him and snorted.  Zarek turned and called back to his men.

    “Be on the alert.  This is a likely place for an ambush.” 

     His warning did not go unheeded and the men were silent as their eyes took in the gully they were to pass through.  He spurred his horse forward and his men followed at a steady march.  The sound of footmen echoed in the wide gully, but Zarek had the nagging feeling that something was wrong.

    The Urartu Mountain tribes were not warlike people, though they did have their warriors.  Perhaps, many years before Zarek was born, they had been content to live high in the mountains.    Now they were a conquered people; despite the fact that their spirits refused to submit to the will of Assyria.  Zarek knew that this was not the first time that the mountain people had revolted.

    There was a low rumble and it suddenly seemed as if the hillsides were pouring down the gully.  Giant boulders smashed scrubby trees and parted his men like water.  There was a hiss against his cheek and an arrow landed in the ground several paces behind him.  Warlike howls accompanied the onslaught.

    Flying missiles of rocks from the hillside was cast down.  More boulders smashed into his men as they scrambled to find shelter.  His horse’s haunches quivered as they bunched before launching them both forward to escape a jagged boulder.  Zarek found it impossible to stay on top of the horse and directing his men at the same time.

   In one fluid movement he dismounted.  Turning his focus to his men who were kneeling in a ditch, he unsheathed his sword.  “Come men.  Follow me!”  He turned to the hillside and led the charge.  The battle had begun.