The next morning, well before sunrise, messengers were sent to three squads, on Jotan‘s orders. He had selected Jotus' squad, and then two other squads that he trusted. He took just three squads, since they were only going to meet with the Garthoran army. The prior night, Jotan had received a request from a Minor Chief to join the group. Seeing no harm in it, Jotan replaced one of the two squads with this Minor Chief's. The Minor Chief was none other than Pyrus.
Jotus led his squad to the rendezvous point at the southeastern side of camp. There, he found Jotan and the other two squads waiting for him. He was surprised to see Pyrus among the warriors, but thought nothing of it.
When all the squads were together, they mounted their bipedal rapts and set off to meet the Garthoran battalion. It would be at least a full day's ride. During the ride, Jotus and Jotan decided they wouldn't talk or make contact with one another more than necessary. They didn't want to risk arousing suspicion.
They finally met up with the Garthorans in the late afternoon. From a distance, using signal flags, the team made contact. Jotan knew it wasn't wise to ride up on a number of troops without first announcing yourself, even if they were expecting you. After the signals were made, Jotan, along with Jotus, Pyrus, and the third squad leader, rode up to the marching troops. They were all covered in layers of thick leather armor, and were sweating profusely from the hot, unshaded plains.
Jotan spoke with the battalion's commander, Grand Chief Desomos, for a short time. It was decided that they would camp where they were for the night. The trip took the better part of a day, and the Garthoran troops were very thirsty and exhausted from their long march.
That night, Jotus and Jotan made their first contact.
"Soon, when most of the troops are resting, we should leave," said Jotus.
"Father, there must be something we can do to stop or hinder Amentus' campaign. He is absolutely determined to see his plan through. I fear he is close to insanity. Many good warriors will die under his command, both Dotaran and Tatoran," said Jotan.
Jotus thought for a moment.
"There is no way to stop the army now," he said, "but there may be some hope in delaying his campaign."
"What do you mean?" asked Jotan.
"If we can get the Garthorans to turn back and abandon the campaign before they even start, Amentus would be forced to wait and make inquiries into the matter. It might even encourage other warriors to abandon the army. Surely, if a large number of them banded together and deserted, Amentus couldn't punish all of them," said Jotus.
Jotan gave him a serious look.
"He wouldn't dare," said Jotus, "The officers wouldn't stand for a War Chief who murdered so many of his own warriors. They would be forced to depose him."
"You are probably right. Besides, Amentus would not want to lose his standing among the troops. He would be ruler over all of Tatora if he could find a way to keep the peace," said Jotan.
"Aye," said Jotus.
"So then, how do we do this?" asked Jotan.
"You won't have to do much. We don't want to compromise your position. Leave it up to me," said Jotus.
"And what if you fail?" asked Jotan.
"Then we flee," said Jotus, “Fast.”
Jotus sat down by one of the camp fires that night, listening to war stories from some of the more distinguished Garthoran warriors. Jotan remained in his tent this night. Eventually, when the conversations died down, Jotus began to speak.
"I wonder how many more of these pleasant nights by the fire we will have before the fighting begins," said Jotus, ”I'm not sure about the rest of you, but I've seen too many battles in my day, and war is never pretty.”
“Save your preaching for someone who cares,” shouted a warrior, and the group laughed at the comment.
“The warmonger calls for arms, and we bend to his whim like puppets on his strings,” said Jotus, “but how long before things go wrong again, as they always have when the clans try to cohabitate. Have we learned nothing from our past?”
“What are you trying to get at?” asked a warrior, “You don't think we have what it takes to defeat these Dotarans?”
“On the contrary,” Jotus replied, “I don't think we have what it takes to beat our own instincts. Especially not under the rule of Amentus. It won't be long before one clan or the other mutinees and turns on the rest.”
“The clans elected him to be War Chief,” said another warrior, trying to defend Amentus, “He would not have won if he wasn't the best Tatoran for the job.”
“But how many of you have actually met Amentus?” asked Jotus, “He is nothing more than an overgrown, complacent cub; worth as much as a heap of rapt dung in battle. He used his political ties to win him that title. He will never be a proper War Chief; you will see.”
“I'd watch what you say,” said the Tatoran sitting next to him, “You don't want another officer hearing you, no matter how drunk you may be.”
Ignoring the comment, Jotus continued, "And it's not just Amentus. Most of his officers are dimwits who know only how to follow orders, and the rest are too afraid of the dimwits to say or do anything about it.”
"Our leader, Desomos, is a great chieftain,” said a warrior, “Courage and wisdom run through his veins, while strength and honor sharpen his blade!”
"If he was as wise and as strong as you say, then he would have stood up to Amentus, like some of the other distinguished Aanthoran officers have, and he would not be leading you into this pointless campaign," said Jotus.
"He follows his orders, as we all do," said the warrior.
"But you Garthorans live so far away, secluded in your harbor city in the southern jungle. These matters have nothing to do with you. Have any of you even seen a Dotaran before?”
No one spoke.
“They don’t want our land, and they certainly don't want to harm any of us. They just want to live in peace while they try to find a way to return to their own world. Would you deny them that?” Jotus asked.
There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd.
“The Dotarans pose a threat," said a warrior, “and our superiors want that threat extinguished. We must be loyal to our leaders and follow their commands without question, otherwise we will fall into chaos, like in the olden times.”
"But at what cost? asked Jotus, “Even if we don't agree with the given command? Even if we know it is wrong and our consciences scream at us for the immorality? Even if our superiors are clearly abusing their authority and manipulating us to achieve their own gains?” asked Jotus, “Well, I know I won't follow the command of a crooked and incompetent leader like Amentus. He is the epitome of a tyrant.”
Some of the warriors gasped.
"The times of honor, duty, and justice are long gone,” Jotus continued, “Greed and pleasure now lie in their place, and they will be our eventual ruin."
"We are soldiers!" shouted a warrior, who then walked toward the camp fire through the small crowd. Jotus saw it was a Garthoran Minor Chief, "and we do not question the decisions of our superiors. The Dotarans are a threat, and that threat needs to be neutralized. Now, enough of this, before I have you arrested for disobedience and conspiracy to desert."
"For just speaking our minds?" asked Jotus.
"Quiet, Squad Leader," said the Major Chief, "You are encouraging insubordination.”
Jotus made no reply. Instead, he took another large sip of grogg, and then got up and walked away from the fire, pointedly bumping into the Major Chief as he made his withdrawal. The Major Chief grabbed Jotus by the arm, but Jotus knocked the hand away and growled ferociously into the Major Chief's face.
“Lay your hands on me once more and it will be your end,” Jotus threatened the officer, and then strode away.
“My superiors will hear of this!"shouted the enraged Major Chief.
"I'm sure they will," said Jotus.
The next morning, as everyone was preparing to break camp, Desomos came riding to the front of the b
attalion with several officers trailing him. One of those officers was the same Major Chief who had reprimanded Jotus the previous night. Desomos then took out a primitive megaphone and raised it to his mouth.
"It has come to my attention that there are those within the battalion who would conspire to desert. I have a list of names here stating who these insubordinates are, but I would ask you warriors first. Who among you has started this rebellious talk?" asked Desomos, "Give up this Tatoran, and it is only he who will be punished, so long as these talks immediately desist."
No one spoke or made any movements.
"As I’d presumed," said Desomos, "Very well then. We will go by the list."
Desomos unrolled a piece of parchment. He opened his mouth to announce the first name, but stopped, as a lone warrior stepped forward. It was Jotus!
"Yes, soldier, what say you?" asked Desomos.
"I am Gringr,” said Jotus, “I am the one you want.”
Desomos grinned.
“Gringr is it? Well, Gringr, you are in luck. The punishment for conspiring to rebel is punishable by death. I, however, am in a rather cheerful mood this morning, and I don't have the time to clean and resharpen my blade again after slaying you," said Desomos, “Instead, I'll just arrest you and let your superiors handle the matter.”
"How fortunate for me," said Jotus, “A merciful leader. Or is it that you just don't want to aggravate the War Chief by killing one of his officers?”
Desomos' face hardened at the implication of cowardice, but he recovered quickly, ignoring the question.
"Tell me," said Desomos, "why, if you are from our welcoming party, do you try to dissuade my soldiers from battle?"
"Enlistment in the campaign is voluntary. I was only expressing an opinion," said Jotus.
"It may be voluntary, but these are my Tatorans to command. They are sworn to me, and we will answer Amentus' call to arms, for he is our War Chief," said Desomos.
"But you are Chieftain of Garthora," said Jotus, "You are responsible for the livelihood of your people. It should not be Amentus who decides their fate, even if he is our War Chief."
"It has been many years since we have had a War Chief, and I will not let my people miss out on the honor and glory that will be wrought," said Desomos firmly, “We know almost nothing about the Dotarans, and if Amentus believes they are such a threat to our existence, then we cannot sit by idly while our entire race could be in jeopardy.”
"Would you follow so blindly if Amentus meant to eradicate the Dracothians, or our friends the Thasolians? The choices you make now are your responsibility, and so will be the outcome. Can you live with such genocide and atrocities on your hands?” asked Jotus, “I, for one, cannot.”
"I am the Chieftain of Garthora, and I am the Grand Chief of this battalion," said Desomos.
“You are a fool,” said Jotus, “and you are going to get many innocent people killed, both Tatorans and Dotarans alike. Do what's best for your people, and turn away from this fight.”
"Only Amentus' direct orders will turn us back," said Desomos.
Jotus looked at Desomos, and then snuck a glance at Jotan, who watched the scene intently. Jotus then looked back at Desomos.
"Then you are not fit to lead these warriors!" yelled Jotus, "You have left me no choice. I, Gringr the Fierce, challenge you, Grand Chief Desomos, to a duel!"
The soldiers present looked about stunned, completely shocked by the challenge. Even Desomos seemed surprised. A formal challenge like this did not happen often. Desomos, as commander, could not back down from a challenge. To do so would bring shame and dishonor to one's self and one's family. Not to mention, it would completely compromise the loyalty of Desomos' subjects, and cause them to fear that he truly was unfit to rule. He would be forced to accept the challenge.
"And what are the terms of this duel?" asked Desomos.
"It is simple, we fight until one of us forces the other to submit,” Jotus replied, “If you win, you prove your ability to rule and can move forward unimpeded, but if I manage to win, then you abandon this campaign and return to Garthora.”
"Or I could simply have you impaled now, as a treasonous scoundrel," growled Desomos, but both of them knew that would be as good as turning down the challenge.
Desomos looked at the warriors who watched the scene intently. He couldn't let his troops down.
"I accept your challenge," he said, "My men will enjoy seeing me paint the grass red with your blood."
Many of the warriors laughed and roared. There would be a fight!
Jotan gave his father a concerned look. Jotus, however, remained stoic.
No time was wasted in creating a wide circle for Jotus and Desomos to duel in. The troops were eager for the surprise entertainment.
Jotus had only the fine sword he'd taken from Gringr to do battle with, and no armor. Desomos, on the other hand, was covered in leather armor from head to toe, and he brandished two swords; a long sword and a short sword. He moved them both about with ease.
"I will give you this one chance to retract your challenge," offered Desomos, “as I am a kind and merciful leader.”
"And I will give you this one chance to turn your troops around and go back to Garthora on your own accord," said Jotus.
"It seems we are at an impasse then," said Desomos, "so the sword will have to decide."
Jotus and Desomos then squared up against one another, each taking a stance.
"It has been a while since my blade has tasted battle," said Desomos.
"I can’t say the same," said Jotus.
With that, the two warriors had at each other. They both swung their blades furiously. Desomos, however, quickly had the upper hand, for he was equipped with two weapons, and Jotus still had not regained full usage of his left hand.
Jotus slashed at Desomos, but Desomos used his smaller blade to catch Jotus's sword in midair. He then swung back and forth with his long sword, trying to slice at Jotus' stomach. Jotus reacted perfectly, however, and the blade missed him by inches.
The two warriors continued to fight one another. Desomos had known he would be in for a good fight, but he had grossly underestimated Jotus' prowess. Neither gave way during the series of attacks that followed. First one, and then the other, steadily pounding away at each other. In one of these encounters, Jotus was able to cut free a piece of leather covering Desomos' leg. Desomos felt his blood dripping down his thigh. A look of apprehension flashed across his face.
The duel continued, but now Jotus seemed to have the upper hand. He forced Desomos backward in the fighting circle. With a swift combination of strikes, Jotus was able to knock the small sword free from Desomos. It landed on the ground near the edge of the circle.
Jotan, as well as a few other Aanthorans, cheered for Jotus, but their cheers were drowned out by the warriors from the Garthoran battalion, pounding on their chests and cheering for Desomos. Desomos was reinvigorated by the support from his troops, and, for the first time in a few minutes, he was able to stop Jotus in his tracks.
Desomos had Jotus' sword locked with his above their heads. They growled in each other's faces, and then Jotus unexpectedly kneed Desomos in the stomach, breaking the lock. As their swords sprung free, Desomos cut Jotus on his left wrist; his crippled hand.
Jotus reeled back in pain as he felt a sudden electrifying shock in his wrist, followed by an extreme burning sensation. Desomos had severed a nerve. He backed away from Desomos to the other side of the circle. Blood dripped from his wrist. The warriors about him cheered at the fresh bloodshed.
Desomos allowed Jotus his short reprieve. They were both breathing heavily from the intense duel.
"Are you sure you wish to continue?" asked Desomos, "This is the last time I will offer you an out. Surrender now and I will only have you whipped and arrested, then handed over to Amentus for proper punishment. Now, what say you, Gringr?"
"I say if you are willing to continue, then so am I," said Jotus, "You see, I fight for wha
t is right, and stopping you from meeting with Amentus is what's right. Now, if you refuse to turn back, let's finish this."
"Very well," said Desomos.
Jotus lunged forward, driving the point of his blade straight for Desomos' heart. Desomos, however, parried the strike at the last moment. Jotus then used his crippled hand to punch Desomos in the side of his face. The blow should have hurt his hand severely, but instead he felt nothing, for Desomos had already severed the nerve.
The punch to the face momentarily stunned Desomos, and in that instance Jotus was able to swipe Desomos' legs out from underneath him. He fell to his back, with the point of Jotus' sword at his neck.
"Now I see why they call you Gringr the Fierce," said Desomos, "Well, be quick with it then."
"I don't want to kill you," said Jotus, "I want only for you and your troops to turn back and return to Garthora. Amentus' fight does not concern you," said Jotus.
"That is truly your only desire?" asked Desomos.
"Yes," said Jotus, "That is all."
"Very well," said Desomos, "You have won the duel by all accounts. I will keep my word and the battalion will return to Garthora. Amentus will not be pleased when he learns about this, though."
"He's made it clear that enrollment in his campaign is entirely voluntary. He will eat his own words," said Jotus.
"And what will you do from here, Gringr?" asked Desomos, "Surely you will not return to the army you so desperately would keep us from?"
"No," said Jotus, "I would be hung for treason."
"Join me, then," said Desomos.
Jotus looked at him, surprised.
"You are an excellent swordsman, and obviously bound by a code of honor. I could use a warrior like you in my battalion," said Desomos.
"You must be joking," said Jotus.
"I am not one to joke," said Desomos.
Jotus thought for a moment.
"I would have only one stipulation," said Jotus.
"And that would be?" asked Desomos.
"That any Aanthoran present be allowed to follow me, if they so choose. They are good fighters, and very loyal as well. None of them would let you down," said Jotus.
"Very well," Desomos replied, "They will be under your command; your responsibility."
"I wouldn't want it any other way," said Jotus.
"Hurry then. Rally those who would stay with you and send the others back. We have already lost a good deal of daylight," said Desomos.
"Yes, sir," said Jotus.
Chapter Five – A New Beginning