Fourth Vector Ch. 13

After the wounded had been pulled away from the front, Jack joined Greg and the rest of the men back at the reestablished perimeter line. He found a tense situation as soon as he was back, many of the Javans on edge and theNumratha looking like they were about to jump back into battle.

"What's the problem?" he asked Greg after looking at the men.

"The men that were wounded in the first wave of the attack and were pulled back to enemy lines can still be heard," he said while pointing out into the darkness. "They're being tortured."

Jack turned his attention in the direction he indicated, holding his breath while he waited for the sounds. It took about thirty seconds before he heard the first low moan, the echo coming in waves across the bowled land in front of them. Soon enough, it raised to a scream, audible across the entire length of the front.

Several of the men shifted uncomfortably around the trench, many of them muttering to themselves and looking out into the darkness for something to shoot at. It was unclear just whether it was a Javan or aNumratha being tortured yet the sounds of it carried a shiver up Jack's spine.

"Clan Chief, can we attack them?" asked Samir, his deputy with theNumratha. Samir had been his voice to the rest of the clan, being one of the first men to come over to him after he killed their former clan chief, Yusef. "Surely we can't listen to this the entire night?"

"That's exactly what they want us to do," said Jack while shaking his head. "They want us to leave our defensive positions and carry out an attack. It's not a good idea. There's just too many of them."

Samir's expression darkened. "Those are members of our own clan that are being tortured out there."

"And you have my sympathy," said Jack. "But for the safety of all of those that are left, we must stay here. We're too outnumbered, and attacking in the darkness could too easily let us be separated and slaughtered in detail."

Samir opened his mouth to argue more, but Greg put his hand on the Andalucian's shoulder. "He's right, man. It's not a great position, but we need to conserve our strength. If we can get back to the coast, we'll be safer."

Samir took a deep breath and nodded before storming away. It wasn't hard to understand why he was upset, and Jack felt a very real feeling of helplessness.

"Do you think I lost his respect just now?" asked Jack after the two men were alone.

Greg shook his head. "Nah. He knows you're right. Hell, I'm sure he even knows it's a bad idea. But there's not a man who doesn't go crazy listening to what are basically his friends and family in such terrible straights. I can understand his frustration. For the better portion of my career, I would have done the same thing he'd suggested. It's just that keeping the core of us intact is more important."

Jack nodded. "That was a wicked attack. From the reports, thoseSciavo snuck up to the lines completely undetected."

"Sneaky bastards, they are. I guess we rightfully pissed off Vertulis enough for him to want to attack us."

"Our plight here gets worse. We had some hope when we got to Septhada, but now that seems to be melting away."

"We'll find a way," said Greg with a degree of confidence. "We always do, right? No matter the odds, we always find a way to pull through."

Jack chuckled. "I wish I had your confidence right now. It seems the longer we stay here, the worse it gets."

Greg kicked a rock across the rocky, desert floor. "Look at it this way—it can't possibly get much worse than this!"

*****

The next morning, Greg's prediction proved to be very wrong.

Jack only saw it upon his morning inspection of the front lines, having Abigail with him for company. The brunette commander walked to his left side, joining him at the early hour as the sun was just rising. They'd shared the same sleeping bag and woke together, a not uncommon feature to their relationship in the desert country. When Jack had questioned it the last time, Abigail had simply shrugged, noting that death could find them at any time in Andalucia, so why hide their obvious affections from each other? The answer suited him, and she'd been just as inseparable ever since.

At this particular time, they'd come up on the center line that had taken the brunt of the attack last night. Many of the bodies of the dead were still scattered about, almost all of them those of theSciavo that had fallen. All of the Javan and alliedNumratha bodies had long since been pulled back to the middle and buried, a sign of respect for their sacrifice. However, the fallenSciavo were piled into a large mound, while their weapons occupied a much smaller pile not much further away.

"The lines survived an attack by that many men last night?" questioned Abigail as she gestured to the bodies of the dead men. "There's a few hundred there at least."

"We survived only barely. I don't think that anyone expected that attack so late," said Jack. "It's a good thing we organized that reserve force behind the lines. We were able to quickly lead them to front, and they made all the difference. Without them, they would have destroyed the line."

"That's fortunate for us, but what are we to do when they attack again?" she asked while pointing out to the front lines of the enemy. "It seems like they're multiplying again."

Jack looked out across the plain. After being pursued for the last week by the remnants of three clans, all of whom had already shed blood against him, there were now three more camps to join the existing three. They were arranged in a semicircle, completely hemming them in on three sides and ensuring they could only go in one direction—south.

"That's at least two more clans, and theSciavo so that makes six," said Jack. "I'm sure they won't be the last ones to arrive either. This is getting more dangerous by the day."

"We need to get back to theDestiny, Jack. We need to get out of this country. If they're going to hound us like this, we don't have the forces to stand up for ourselves. I know that doesn't help Kat's situation, but we can't help her if we're dead."

Jack nodded. "The thought has been on my mind quite often lately. Finding a different strategy or at very least pulling back to the coast to regroup. I don't think we're going to do this with brute force. We need to be more strategic about this, although how that will play out, I'm not sure."

She looped her arm around his. "I'm sure we'll figure it out. We're not beaten yet."

Jack looked at her and smiled. "You're still with me?"

"Of course I am," she said with a slight giggle. "Even if I didn't feel the way for you that I did."

"Oh, and what is that?"

She elbowed him in the ribs and kept walking without explaining further. "Like I need your head to get any bigger. But you have my trust. I know you'll do the right thing. And you have these two clans behind your back who will follow you wherever. And to them, you're this mythical person. This Tur'hafa or whatever it's called.

Jack started to chuckle. "I think it's calledTur'hava. Although I can't tell if it's a good title or not."

"Perhaps one of our allies will be able to tell you," she suggested. "It might not hurt to know just what we're up against."

"I'm due to meet with Abel in a little while," said Jack, mentioning his deputy with theMuthada. "I'll ask him to explain more about it then. Something tells me it can't be good."

*****

"So you want to know about theTur'hava? I'm afraid you won't like that answer," said Abel a short while later, as they were gathered around Jack's main headquarters. He had requisitioned one of the main tents from the fallen clan chief of theNumratha and used it as the nerve center of his command. It helped to have all his important people in one place as well as performing the simple task of keeping them shielded from the devastating Andalucian sun.

"I still need to know what it is. Both Yusef called me by that title before he died as well as the High Clan King Vertulis," explained Jack. "It doesn't seem to be a derogatory name although it could be an insult. To me, it just seems like something of importance, and that's why I need to know what it is."

"It is something of importance. It's a word that goes back centuries, maybe even millennia," said Abel while rubbing his chin. "I'm not much more familiar with the history of it, but we're told it goes back to Andalucian prophecy."

Jack groaned, remembering Kat and her own pursuit of prophecy. "Not prophecy. I can't seem to escape prophecy lately."

Abel smiled. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Clan Chief. But there are some things we can't escape. Fate is one of them. Andalucians are sensitive when it comes to the divine words of prophecy. It's a spiritual calling that rings out deeply in all of us."

Jack let out a sigh. "Okay, I get it. Keep going though. What does it mean?"

"Going back to the dawn of this country, to the very first clans, there has been warfare. There has been bloodshed. It is the way of the desert. Resources are slim, and only those that are the strongest can survive the hostile environment. The strongest warriors fought each other for access to these resources—water, food, slaves. The smartest warriors figured out that numbers were better off for battles against their rivals, and for that reason, the clan was born."

"You see, in the early stages of our history, we only had the clans. There was no king, and no one with authority over the whole island. Until there was one man who came out from the desert. One man who united the clans one by one."

"Who was that man? What happened to him?"

"He was the legendary first king of Andalucia and his name was Ada. An extremely gifted warrior and a cunning strategist, Ada took on the individual clans and wielded them together until there wasn't a single soul in all of Andalucia who didn't look upon him as clan chief."

"That sounds like the very thing most Andalucians don't want now. They don't want someone uniting the clans, right?" asked Jack.

Abel nodded. "That is correct. Ada was a good king and a wise man at that. He knew that if he could unite the clans and be king, that others could do so as well. Shortly after he was made king, there was a rebellion in Andalucia as another man tried to do the same thing, usurping Ada's power. When he was put down, another rebellion began. Ada knew what he had accomplished was a turning point in Andalucian society. If not stopped, Andalucians would war forever for the crown of the country, far past the point of weakness. He couldn't allow it."

"For that reason, Ada decreed that no one could unite the clans under penalty of death. His crown would pass to his oldest son, Usa, and when Usa expired, the strongest clan chief would become king and in the process, surrender his link to his former clan. The idea was to keep the peace at all costs, making the kingship more of an elected position and trying to stem the warfare for centuries to come."

"Did it work?" asked Jack.

"The prestige of Ada was very great and many in the country could see the damage that was being done by endless war. Several clans had been wiped out in the process. As a way of rejecting infinite war, they accepted his laws and outlawed anyone who tried to unite the clans in the future."

"It sounds like this Ada was a great king," said Jack. "To command that much authority to prevent war."

"He was, Clan Chief. It is for that very reason that so many of the clans are named after him and his son. TheMuthada for instance. Sons of Ada in the old tongue. Many of them seek to honor the legendary bloodline of the family."

"So where does this link in with theTur'hava?"

"After Ada and Usa died, the country was at peace. Sure, the occasional clans warred with each other, but actions involving the entire country were extremely rare. That is, until the Prophetess of Ratha came along some centuries later."

"And who was she?"

"She's the one that came up with the Andalucian Book of Legends. A series of prophecies written on old scrolls, the Prophetess was the first to predict the return of the legendary king's spirit in a new man, one not of Andalucian blood, who would unite the clans once more, stake his claim to the kingship, and change Andalucian society forevermore. The nameTur'hava was given to him, a conjunction of two old Andalucian words—Tur meaning clan andhava meaning uniter. The mythical clan-uniter, the rebirth of our ancient king."

"So you believe that I'm the living rebirth of your first king sent here to unite your clans and change your society forever?" asked Jack with an incredulous tone.

Abel shrugged and then grinned. "There are many here who believe that. You fit the mold of the prophecy so far. If Clan Chief Yusef believed it and if High Clan King Vertulis believes it now, it is not so far-fetched."

"But I thought uniting the clans was a bad thing, Abel. Why would you look forward to this person when your whole society seems to be mobilized against that happening?"

Abel held up a finger. "Only for those that aren't theTur'hava. TheTur'hava was meant to unite the clans just as his legendary predecessor had. And with that power, he will change Andalucian society forever. This is not a task for any random clan chief to do on his own for he is not theTur'hava. Only the rebirth of that first king can have such a power over the Andalucian people."

Jack started to rub his eyes. "I feel more lost than ever. I'm just a foreigner in your lands trying to rescue my guide so I can leave here. I didn't come here to seek power or the kingship."

Abel grinned. "Fate works in mysterious ways, Clan Chief. And so far, every man who has bet against you here has ended up dead.Tur'hava or not, the fates surround and protect you. There is much still to be written about your story, and I think only time will tell where it will take us."

Jack remained quiet while he processed those words. It was all throwing him for the same loop that he had when he first listened to Kat talk about Galician prophecy. Was everything in this part of the world governed by the words of prophets? And why did it seem like he was always caught in the middle of it? What could he do to change Andalucian society?

"Why me, Abel?" asked Jack finally. "And what could I possibly do to change Andalucian society forever? I've only been here a few weeks. I barely know anything about your country and your customs. What can I do to change that?"

Abel let out a small sigh. "There are many that would say Andalucia is a backward country. Our way of life—our warfare, our slavery, our simpleness is not the envy of the rest of the world. It is clear that we've struggled with the path we're currently on. In a way, theTur'hava is the promise of a future for us. It is hope that we can change our society for the better, and there are many out there that will fight for that. Wouldn't you fight to better your homeland?"

Jack nodded. "You can say that's the entire reason I'm out here in the first place."

"It is the same for all of us who carry the heartbeat of their country in their very chest," said Abel. "But I did mean what I said, Clan Chief. The fates will protect you, I know of it. If you are who they claim you to be, you have a large destiny in front of you."

And if I'm not? Does that mean I'll never get off this island? What do I do if I'm not their long prophesied king back from the dead?

The questions drifted through his head for the rest of the day, questions that he never got proper answers for. The only thing he could do was wait and see.

And try to stay alive.

*****

Back in Septhada, Lina stood by the steel gate, the only entrance into the whore pens of the high clan king. Lina tapped her foot absentmindedly as she waited, knowing the other woman was due back at any time. Having slept with Vertulis more times than she could count, she also knew just how long he lasted during coitus, and for that reason, she expected to see the other woman within the next few minutes.

It wasn't uncommon for her to wait on the comings and goings of the other whores in the pen. After all, she was the first of them, and no doubt she would also be the last long after Vertulis had tired of them all. Lina had such a long relationship with Vertulis that it went back to the time when he was merely clan chief of theBurlada, bringing her with him upon his ascension to the throne. There were a handful of other girls brought with him at the time, all of them no longer around. But Lina was.

She'd earned the rightful position amongst the rest of the girls due to that longevity. She was the first "wife" of the king, in name if not in official title. Lina credited that to her good looks which had kept with her throughout the years. Now that she was in her late thirties, her body was starting to show the telltale signs of aging, yet the king hardly seemed to care, still sending for her with regular frequency even despite having the choice of younger and tighter competition. It was that very fact that led Lina to keep her head high, knowing that she was first amongst the rest of the whores.

Being the oldest and the longest served, it also carried a certain authority with the rest of the girls. As the first "wife" of the king, she looked out for the other girls, cared for them, and acted as their advocate when needed. On the other hand, she also got rid of troublemakers—those girls who had no right to be in the harem whether by actions or speech. She always exhibited a clinical approach to that matter, not only eliminating those that refused to perform well for the king but also those that were likely to steal the thunder of the other girls.

Lina remembered one girl in particular who was too pretty for her own good and stealing too much of the king's attention from the other girls. Lina had arranged for a careful "accident" that removed her from the pens permanently (it also removed her life permanently but such is life in the palace). Such strong action was needed for the security of the rest of the girls in the pen. It was important that one girl didn't gain too much power in the harem, and Lina was the main arbiter in that matter.

Footsteps echoed along the corridor in front of her, snapping her attention back to the present. Two sets of footsteps and judging by the sounds of their voices, the king was with the other whore as an escort.

"You did an excellent job tonight, lovely. Now, get that ass of yours back in the pen," said Vertulis playfully. There was an echo of flesh meeting flesh, and by the way the whore rubbed her bottom when she came into view, Lina could tell she'd just had her ass thoroughly smacked.

"It pleases me to please you, sire," said the whore, Nadira, as she scampered through the open metal bars.

"Still waiting up for us, Lina?" asked Vertulis as soon as he was close by. "I hope you weren't waiting too long."

"Not at all, sire," said Lina with words sweet as honey. "Perhaps you'd fancy another go around with me this time?"

Vertulis started to laugh before grabbing his cock. "I'm well-drained tonight so that won't be necessary. Besides, the next one I want to break in is that one." He pointed to another girl off in the corner.

Lina followed his pointing to the new addition, the mid-twenties blonde girl sulking in the corner. While she was no doubt beautiful, she also didn't talk to the other girls, a mysterious entity that meant Lina had no idea what to make of her. However, it was clear that Vertulis was most interesting in breaking her in.

"When her training is complete, I might just have to let the rest of you go," said Vertulis with a heavy laugh. "I think her alone will keep me sated for months!"