Chapter 18
About a week later, all was quiet in the City of Sodorf. Talk of Pitkins became less and less frequent, especially after several additional searches of the town where Pitkins was attacked, the town where Pitkins disappeared, and many other surrounding towns failed to produce any new leads concerning his fate or whereabouts. Even Fritzer had lost hope of finding out where Pitkins was and what had become of him. Only Donive maintained hope. She had heard the vicious rumors that he had revealed “his true colors” as a treacherous vagabond and simply abandoned her. It infuriated her that the people who were so quick to jump to these conclusions were the same “nobles” that had been put to shame by Pitkins when true valor was needed.
To a certain extent, she could see why people would think Pitkins had abandoned her. With his martial prowess it was hard to conceive of him being kidnapped so quickly and silently that the commotion wouldn’t wake her.
However, unlike most of the nobility, she believed in magic—both good and bad—and she believed Glisphin might have been at work. Over the course of the last several centuries, belief in things like Glisphin, dark magic, and Feiglushen, good magic, had waned. Many people believed these things were mere superstitions from a bygone era. She, however, was all but convinced that the strange wound Pitkins suffered was the result of some form of Glisphin. Perhaps the blade that had pierced his skin had a poisonous herb spread across it. She wasn’t sure, but she certainly didn’t think it was natural.
(but how could Pitkins have been kidnapped from your room without you even waking up?)
She didn’t know. She just didn’t know.
Fritzer was heading to the temple for a meeting. Ever since Pitkins’ disappearance, he had been fighting a losing battle trying to convince the nobility they needed to at least slightly increase the size of the military, raise quality standards, and begin daily martial training as had been the custom during the first few centuries after the Seven Years War. His mind wandered to Donive. He was heartbroken for her loss and had tried everything to cheer her up. He had even permitted her to work in the kitchen with the chefs, something he always banned before, thinking manual work was beneath her. He wondered if he could convince her to marry again. But that would be against Sodorfian custom. Traditionally, if a husband or wife disappeared, unless the body could be found, or unless it could be proven the spouse was dead, the husband or wife would wait at least a year before remarrying. Fritzer knew in his heart of hearts, however, Donive would never remarry, even if Pitkins’ body were found. Much less if it were not.
As he neared the temple, suddenly he saw a Sodorfian scout galloping his way, his horse kicking up dust as he neared him.
“Sir Fritzer,” the scout said, “Dachwaldians are coming!”
Fritzer nearly jumped out of his skin.
Seeing Fritzer’s panic, the scout, Tibin, said, “My apologies, Sir Fritzer; don’t be alarmed. It’s only two Dachwaldian emissaries accompanied by ten bodyguards. This doesn’t appear to be an attack. The emissaries are wearing the traditional white robes of peace. They told us their destination is the City of Sodorf and they have a very important issue to discuss.”
“Thank you, Tibin; I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”
“Yes, sir,” Tibin replied and headed off.
Fortunately, most of the nobles were coming to the temple today anyway for the meeting, but attendance wasn’t mandatory today, and he expected some of the nobles to not show up. Fritzer drove his boots hard against his horse’s sides.
When he got to the temple, he saw there were already about a dozen nobles there. As he entered the temple, he shouted, “Emissaries from Dachwald are coming!” and immediately began ringing the large bell.
The nobles were flabbergasted. There had only been two or three times that Dachwaldian emissaries had come to Sodorf since the end of the Seven Years War. This was no banality. After ringing the bell for three minutes, Fritzer addressed the nobles that were already there, “I don’t know what their purpose is. Tobin, one of our scouts, told me he saw them with his own two eyes. There are two emissaries, both dressed in the traditional white robes of peace, and they have only a small number of bodyguards accompanying them. They should probably be here soon, so we’ll get our questions answered then.”
The nobles that had planned on not attending the optional meeting quickly readied themselves and started heading towards the temple as soon as they heard the fulminating, ear-splitting sound of the temple bell.
“Not again!” some of them bellyached to their wives or to whomever they were with. “Let me guess: another search party is needed to try to track down that worthless Pitkins!!”
Within roughly thirty minutes, all of them were inside the temple and seated, and as the nobles trickled in one by one, Fritzer quite frustratingly had to explain over and over the reason for the meeting and the very little he knew about the situation. Finally, Tibin came rushing into the temple and said, “Here they come; they’re almost here!”
The Sodorfians gawked at the twelve horsemen riding down the street like children observing a carnival show. Many of them noticed the unique characteristics of the Dachwaldians that they had read about in accounts of the Seven Years War and—in a very small number of cases—that they had heard about from actual Sodorfians who had lived in Dachwald. The twelve Dachwaldians all measured over six feet tall, and most were blond-haired and blue-eyed with very white skin. They were fierce looking. Most Sodorfians had dark brown or black hair and were shorter and less muscular.
They reached the temple, tied their horses, and, distrusting the hundreds of curious onlookers eyeing them up and down like visitors from outer space, removed their saddle bags from the horses. Lixen and Sifindel led the group, and as they entered the temple, they all got down on one knee and bowed.
“You may enter,” said Fritzer, “but you must all leave your weapons by the entrance. As you can see, none of us are armed; we have also left our weapons by the entrance. This temple is a place of discussion, not bloodshed.”
The twelve Dachwaldians looked at each other uneasily. Sensing their discomfort, Fritzer asked the Sodorfian nobles to open their cloaks and show they were unarmed. Finally convinced the lack of weaponry would be mutual, the Dachwaldians removed their weapons slowly and set them by the door.
“Thank you for respecting our custom,” Fritzer said; “now please, we would like for the two emissaries to come forward and state the purpose of this visit. We politely request your bodyguards stay by the entrance.”
They were also uneasy about this, but Lixen and Sifindel reassured them. Lixen and Sifindel walked to the area in front of where the nobles were seated.
Lixen began first. “Greetings, good nobles of Sodorf. First, I must confess, this is the first time I’ve ever been to Sodorf; it is a beautiful country! I have learned the Sodorfian language both from books and from a few Sodorfian tutors who live in Dachwald that have been kind enough to teach me your wonderful language. I must admit, your language is a much softer, prettier language than Dachwaldian. To cut to the chase, all of you want to know what in Kasani we’re doing here, right?!”
The nobles nodded.
“I don’t blame you. The history between our two countries is a very unfortunate one. Even though 830 years have passed since our calamitous war, I know there is still tension between our two countries. The memories and legends of such a brutal war die hard. I’m here because I don’t want such an unfortunate conflict to ever break out again between our two peoples. Sadly, some events that have happened recently in my country have greatly increased the likelihood of that happening.”
“What are you saying?!” shouted one noble, threateningly.
“ORDER!” shouted Fritzer; “Let him speak!”
“Thank you,” said Lixen, and he continued. “A horrible tragedy has occurred in my country, and bef
ore I continue I want to make it absolutely clear that at this point I am not accusing the Sodorfians. However, over the course of last week, farmers began traveling to Castle Dachwald with horrible reports of wide-scale agricultural damage. We sent General Sivingdon and two thousand men to go and investigate. Nearly all of the crops in the vast expanses of lush, fertile farmland in the southern regions of Dachwald had been destroyed. Only edible vegation was destroyed, and all reports indicate that the damage occurred in a single night. Furthermore, no sightings of locust swarms or any other crop-eating insects have been reported. Thus, it is clear this was not the work of a fungus or insect but rather a thousand or more determined men working together. Our trackers discovered a thousand or more tracks leading towards the Sodorfian border! We are in danger of famine. Our senate almost authorized Vechengschaft troops into Sodorf to investigate, but they sent my small party of emissaries and bodyguards instead in an effort to avert war.”
“It’s a lie!” shouted Freidor, standing up and screaming accusatively at the top of his lungs; “this is a PRETEXT for war!”
“SILENCE!” shouted Fritzer; “let the emissary finish.”
“Thank you again,” said Lixen, addressing Fritzer. “This is NOT a pretext for war—far from it. In fact, General Sivingdon sent a tracker all the way back to Castle Dachwald to ask for permission simply to follow the tracks into Sodorf and see how far south they went. Even knowing the good intentions of General Sivingdon, the senate and King Duchenwald voted to send emissaries to the City of Sodorf first to request your permission for us to cross the border with a small group of trackers and soldiers—to work jointly with Sodorfian trackers and soldiers—to find out where the tracks lead to so that justice can be meted out. Please bear in mind, as you consider the request, the sacrifice and risk that we Dachwaldians made. There is very little chance, due to the heavy rain over the past several days in this area, that these tracks will even be visible for much longer.
“Even though the king and senate knew that by sending emissaries to ask for permission to cross the border under the foregoing guidelines we were probably losing the one chance we had of finding out just where these tracks lead, they still decided to ask for permission first, showing that our desire for vengeance, as righteous and understandable as it is, is trumped by an even greater desire—peace. That is why I beg of you: Please do not be dilatory in granting this request! As we speak, rain is washing away the tracks; if action isn’t taken soon, the only things that will be left are suspicion and distrust on both sides. Sodorfians will think we made this up as ‘a pretext for war,’ as one of you has already opined; and Dachwaldians, many of whom might end up starving, will claim the Sodorfians got away with an egregious crime. I think it goes without saying where such widespread suffering and distrust would lead . . . . All I’m asking is that some of our best trackers be allowed to cross the border immediately, along with two hundred Vechengschaft. As for your troops, we ask that they remain slightly south of the border, as the tracks will be impossible to follow if even a small contingent of Sodorfians comes up from the south and mixes their footprints with those of the perpetrators.
“I wouldn’t object to a small group of Sodorfians accompanying us to see the damage for themselves, but we would need assurance that, if the damage is as we tell you, we will be authorized to immediately execute the aforementioned plan under the stated guidelines; otherwise, as I said, it will be too late for us to ever know for sure who was responsible. I know you will need to discuss this alone. We can step outside while you discuss this amongst yourselves. I beg of you—please take into account the evidence that Dachwald greatly wishes to resolve this situation peacefully. The Dachwaldian senate had to make a very quick decision regarding this issue as well; please show the same thoughtfulness. That is all. Thank you.”
Silence descended upon the room. Suspicion lurked in the nobles’ minds. Finally, Fritzer broke the silence by thanking the emissaries for coming and politely asked them to step outside while the matter was discussed. They regathered their weapons and stepped outside.
“Well,” Fritzer said, “what is your reaction?”
“Lies!” a noble shouted; “this has got to be a trap.” “It is awfully suspicious!” opined another. “But they need help,” said a third. “What kind of message is it going to send if we just sit on our laurels while they are in such great need of assistance?” asked another.
As the nobles debated this issue vigorously amongst themselves a bird, perched inside a small opening in one of the temple walls, watched the nobles intently as they bickered amongst each other. No one paid it much attention. Its cocked head and overly interested expression went unnoticed.
As the nobles continued to debate the issue, the tide of opinion changed constantly like the swirling, crashing waves of the ocean on a rocky beach. At moments it seemed the nobles were sure it was a trap. Perhaps no damage had been sustained, or the Dachwaldians had inflicted the damage themselves to have a pretext to demand the future right to cross the border without permission. Maybe the Dachwaldians were hoping to lure the Sodorfians from their defenses and deal a crushing blow to their best soldiers, followed by a ruthless assault on the city itself. However, as abundant as these fears were, quite a few thought perhaps the Dachwaldians really were sincere.
Freidor said, “The Dachwaldians need our help. We’d want them to help us if the situation were reversed. After all, the Dachwaldians sent emissaries over; this is in strict accordance with the Seven Years War Treaty. If the Dachwaldians were looking for trouble, they sure are picking a strange way to do so! I think this is a good sign. Perhaps this could be the beginning of an alliance, dare I say, even a friendship, with the Dachwaldians, instead of a mutually suspicious, fragile ‘peace.’”
A few clapped. Some rolled their eyes. The tide kept turning.
“This isn’t going to be an easy decision,” said Fritzer, “but, the facts of the matter are the Dachwaldian emissaries are here, and they’ve followed the treaty to the letter thus far. I propose we have an anonymous vote right now.”
Unable find any reason to oppose putting the matter to a vote, the nobles agreed, and Fritzer and Freidor began passing out pieces of parchment. After a tense fifteen minutes, the folded pieces of parchment were all placed on a large table in the front of the room. Fritzer and Freidor counted the votes three times to ensure accuracy. The result: 204 people in favor of lending assistance to the Dachwaldians and 196 against.
“Very well,” said Fritzer, once again taking the floor; “by a slight majority we have voted to give some assistance to the Dachwaldians. I believe giving them assistance is the right thing to do. Now that we’ve decided we are going to give them some assistance, we must decide exactly how. Personally, although I’m not ashamed to say I voted in favor of assisting them, I also have some suspicions about their motives. In particular, I’m not very inclined to allow many, if any, Dachwaldian troops across our border for the purpose of hunting down these purported vandals. We’re going to need to see considerable proof of the destruction before we even consider allowing Dachwaldian troops to enter Sodorf!
“If our trackers indeed observe horrible agricultural destruction as described by the Dachwaldians and indeed there are tracks leading from the southern farms towards our lands, I think we’ll not have any other option than to at least allow a certain number of Dachwaldian soldiers and trackers to cross our border so they can join us in a cooperative search. Think of the unity and the trust that this could build between our two peoples—Dachwaldians and Sodorfians hunting down a common enemy together! If indeed this turns out to be some kind of wicked scheme, then the shame won’t be on us. We will proceed cautiously, but we will proceed in a genuine manner that allows for the possibility the Dachwaldians are actually telling the truth. Bear in mind the fact that while indeed there is some risk involved in trusting the Dachwaldians, there is even greater
risk in demonstrating complete distrust. If famine were to break out in their land and it could truthfully be said we did nothing either to assuage their misery or to allow them to find the perpetrators, it will be automatically assumed that we were the perpetrators, and an uneasy truce could certainly turn into a major war! I don’t think a single person in here wants that.”
Applause erupted. Confident, convinced applause. Most of the Sodorfian nobles, even the majority of those most staunchly opposed to allowing any Dachwaldians to cross the border, had been persuaded by Fritzer’s speech that, while indeed they were taking some risk by going to the assistance of the Dachwaldians, there was certainly much greater risk in not doing anything. The only matter that remained to be discussed was the issue of how many people would accompany the Dachwaldians to the border. Inspired by the cogency of Fritzer’s words, a new feeling of optimism spread amongst the nobles, and they started working much more harmoniously with one another to try to come to a fast agreement so they could soon be assisting their Dachwaldian brothers. After some further discussion, the Sodorfians, although not entirely devoid of dissension, decided that twenty-five Sodorfian trackers would accompany the two Dachwaldian emissaries and their ten bodyguards, as well as five hundred Sodorfian regular troops.
“It’s settled then,” Fritzer said; “we’ve made a decision; let us now call in the Dachwaldians.”
Sifindel and Lixen remained waiting outside the temple. More than an hour had passed, and they were beginning to become somewhat agitated. Even if they left right now at full speed towards the border they would be lucky if any of the tracks were still left. This was unacceptable. Just as their agitation was about to reach its crescendo, they heard the temple doors open and a voice say, “Come in.” Both Lixen and Sifindel were slightly anxious, not sure what to expect. They stood up straight and tall and walked into the temple with their bodyguards.
“Gentlemen,” said Fritzer, “we are going to send twenty-five of our own trackers to investigate this damage and help you track down those guilty. We assure you that if Sodorfians are the culpable parties they will be turned over to Dachwald for punishment, and we will offer assistance to you both agriculturally and economically to help you survive the coming winter, given the substantial loss in harvest you’ve suffered. We’ll also send five hundred Sodorfian regulars—should these perfidious vandals be successfully tracked down, we can fight them together as allies! We’ll summon the twenty-five trackers and the five hundred regulars immediately!”
“Thank you, Sir Sodorf; I assure you King Dachwald will greatly appreciate this!” said Sifindel. Sifindel and Lixen bowed, and then they and their ten bodyguards picked up their weapons they had laid next to the temple entrance and exited the temple.
Optimism had returned.