Once a King Pt. 16

Once a King

Part 16: Massacre at the Well-Watered Place

(Many thanks to My Editor Kenji Sato)

Skryba: The story, my story, the People's story moves very quickly now. I remember times in my youth of long summers, endless winters. After being a king, my life has happened as the pissing of a stallion in a fast, full torrent.

Thus were the times that followed the sighting of the pancerni, we did not use that word then, the People did not know it. I have used what you people of the book would say an 'anachronism'. The men of iron doomed us. The People.

I know more than I should because as the end neared for the People, all our abilities increased. The Council felt what all the People felt, thought, saw, even at a distance. The fates, although we did not know the fates, ensured that the memory of the People did not die, though the People mostly did die, and are now extinct.

The Council 'heard' from Filip first. I am all that remains of the Council; only I can tell the tale.

Filip left Jacus and Genowefa to seek out the Coicie and the hunters that remained behind when the Raiding Party left them. Filip found the camp of the Coicie abandoned—huts burning, the Red Hut, sacred to the women, the huts where the children slept, the storerooms, even the isolated hut of the assignation—all destroyed.

Blessedly, there were no babies, no massacre of the infants, the innocents as there was in the BOOK. The children were older and valuable, the tax collector took them for sale, to be servants and slaves. The women were to be slave breeding stock. The Men of the Bull could not keep them, and as they, the women, were the property of the empire, they did not dare do the dishonorable thing to them.

All were surprised and overwhelmed. There was no possibility of resistance.

The small hunting band left was ridden down in the stypia. Our men rarely used the horse herd anymore, and Filip was away and not there to catch mounts for them. All perished, they were of no value to the empire, only a small threat that must be eliminated.

The People's horses had some value, but not with the effort to corral. They remained free on the stypia.

Or so Filip thought. As he searched for the horse herd, he was spotted by a horse archer the Men of the Bull spared to search for hunters they had missed, or horses they might need on the stypia. Filip died with a well-fletched war arrow through his chest. His mission to retrieve our war bow and arrows for Jurek, our expert archer, first forgotten then unfulfilled.

All the remaining People felt the losses as a cold shudder. All had their senses heightened. Our minds expanded to take in the minds of those lost, those lost to slavery, who would never against know the harsh, wide, FREE stypia.

We all knew we were doomed; we had no chance. The armored men were coming soon. If we fled, they would ride us down. Here in the Well-Watered Place, we would stand and die. We would die in such a way that the Men of the Bull would tell the tale. To enhance their reputation to be sure, but to make the People legend. We would then NEVER die.

Hirek and Tabiti, the Mistress of the Horse, now the successor of Filip—they were our picket, our warning...In the hours of danger, lust is heightened also. They were in constant heat, she the fire and the passion, he the patient the careful. They mate like mare and stallion when on watch...both scanning the horizon for enemies, as they enjoyed their last days.

The danger, the need to be vigilant made them forge a pact...only one would reach completion when they coupled...a warrior's coupling discipline. One would always be scanning the horizon, if the other should roll back their eyes and miss the danger.

Thus, it was that, the horsemen showed themselves on the horizon. A deliberate warning. A sign of arrogance? No, a simple fact...today, People, you die. In that knowledge and for the first time, Hirek and Tabiti finished together, mounting their horses wet and naked to warn the People.

The Men of the Bull, the agents of Exarchos were tiny figures on the horizon. They were but the vanguard, of a larger force arrayed a long-bow shot to their rear. In the vanguard was Verbosus and his rider, Eustathios. Heavy horse and heavy rider, too heavy for scouting, too heavy for the vanguard, but they knew the land they would lead.

It was not an army, or even a detachment of an army, the Exarchos, if he knew of them at all, had them on his list of 'irregulars' in service to the empire. Outcasts, former criminals, but useful, in their way.

Still they, the Men of the Bull had their legacy, they knew from whom they descended, they were proud, they had been of the army decades ago, the proudest, best soldiers on the edges of the OLD empire. They retained the traditions dated though they were. But basic tactics were still valid.

The Men of the Bull, despite their namesake, did not rush into battle or danger of any kind. They were methodical. Losses were to be avoided. Survival was more important, than bravery or honor.

Verbosus and his rider had scouted these people. The Men of the Bull overmatched them many times over. To save themselves, it was hoped the People would 'consent to be enslaved.' But with this group...there would be no surprise and there would be resistance. Both horse and riders were eager for a fray—violence was their life. Threat of violence was usually enough, and they had not had to battle anyone for a long time. Not at all, this season.

It was time.

The sight of the approaching naked lovers alerted the People. The Dwellers of the Well-Watered Place had continued their daily chores, the People's raiding party, nearly starved as they routinely were lazed about regaining the strength they had never before had. As Jacus and Genowefa had brought their news of the armored horseman the previous day, and the Council knew of the demise of the Coicie, the hunters, and Filip, the People knew they had little time.

Jurek and Ludek were by default our war experts, simply by virtue of their temperament, rather than any experience or expertise. The People were arrayed as though for a drive...a hunt that forces the prey to run into the killers. But in this case the killers, the real expert killers of humans, were coming to us.

The Council, naked as was now the custom arrayed in the center of the People. I, Pawel, Nik and Jadzia. Jadzia had the Eagle of the People on a staff. While 'resting' here in the Well-Watered Place, she obtained from Gustek (or was it Dmytro?) a staff of seasoned hardwood, not of the Well-Watered Place, but from a small grove in the hills, near the Pia Fidelis. Much taller and sturdier than her walking staff...it raised the Eagle well above the heads of the People, catching the rays of the sun.

The Men of the Bull came out of the dawn light...as the sun rose above them, a sun beam struck the Eagle and reflected its light back to the Men of the Bull.

Even at this great distance over the open fields, the people could see the vanguard of the Men of the Bull halt. Was it the light from the Eagle that frightened them, or had they halted for their main body to close with them?

Ludek was putting the final razor's edge on his sword, the People's only 'war weapon' save one. His position was in front of the council...their shield. But in truth, it was more symbolic than real, he would be ridden down with ease.

To the right of the council, stood Godek, solid and unimaginative, no warrior, not a great hunter, but one of the US. He was strong, if somewhat clumsy. To our left, Jacus, clever, funny, good with a knife, but skilled in the preparation of meat, not in killing men.

Further to the right and a little back, (our 'line' bent back like a bow) was Alla with her sling, the war sling that she had been presented with days ago, with the sling stones that were the size of Godek's 'stones'. She had been practicing since and was accurate but slow.

Jurek, with his hunting bow, and not the war bow Filip would never be able to present to him, was on the left in a spot similar to Alla's

Dmytro and Gustek had armed themselves with stout staves sharpened at one end, good as a spear or since the spear was useless against armor for bashing a helmeted head.

The women of the Well-Watered Place were with their men save for Tabiti, who stayed mounted and formed our 'skirmish line' with Hirek. Api stood unarmed, with her husband, Dmytro, as did Artimpasa with Gustek.

Lada, of the hearth, stood with her knives, one in each hand and several in the belt of her shift...she was behind the rest of the denizens of the Well-Watered Place and would finish the warriors, her men folk stunned. This plan would change somewhat, as you shall soon see.

Hirek and Tabiti rode recklessly close to the vanguard of the Men of the Bull. As they were nude and obviously unarmed, the armored horsemen did not see them as a threat, but remained in place. Reining to a halt at what they thought was safely out of horse archer range, the couple observed there would be assailants.

This close, the sharp-eyed horsewoman and her scout lover, could make out that the horsemen were a motley collection. The impressive Verbosus and his massive rider were the best equipped, heavy body armor and helm for the man and thick leather protection for the horse. The rest of the horsemen wore light-mail armor and leather helmets. Most of their horses wore only bits of protection, face or breast shields, but rarely both. All their kit had the air of being scavenged armor.

Galloping from the main body, were what appeared to be a leader and a noncombatant. The leader had armor of the style Eustathios wore, but of finer quality, his helm was decorated with a plume of cock feathers dyed red, to make him easier to spot in the fray. His companion rode a small horse, befitting an unarmored, small man. His long white beard and hair marked him as a scholar of priestly class.

Back with the People, their one woman left was Genowefa, who took her place on her own authority (as you know all the People assess where they will do the most good) in front of all the People in the center. Very deliberately, she removed her shift. She squatted in the field and made water. She then knelt and spit into the water adding her own blood, as she was bleeding. This mixture she used to paint a line on her nose and another on each cheek. With her thumb, she pressed a dab of honey she had brought with her in a small jar, onto her forehead. To this, she affixed a small bit of metal to a bit of a coin. How she had obtained this, no one knew.

Her paste was drying, so she spit into the mix also adding more of her moon blood...with this, she made circles on her breasts and a circle with a cross on her belly, indicating that she was, had been, a mother...she was in mourning for a lost child.

Genowefa, over the distance to the enemy, could hear the leader and the Sacerdotes discuss these strange people.

"They bear the sign of the Eagle, the sign of our lost brothers!"

"But they have before them a witch, who even now reads our thoughts, hears our words."

Genowefa's long hair was unbound and reached to her waist...a morning breeze stirred it and the rising rays of the sun caught the gossamer's filaments, giving her an other-worldly halo.

As she was on a slight rise in front of the people, the Men of the Bull could see her caught in the sun with a dark background behind her...she spread her arms with that motion tossing her hair...momentarily, it appeared at a distance that she had burst into flame, causing the horsemen to recoil.

Tabiti and Hirek had the same view as the Men of the Bull, and they, too, were unnerved.

The morning breeze died, and all was silent.

Genowefa began to hum...At a distance, it was unheard by the enemy, but the People could just hear it. With the humming, she commenced a slow advance to the enemy...a tripudium ...two forward steps one back...a dance a dance to death.

The People were under her spell...but before they danced with her, all disrobed. Lada, deprived of her belt, gave her surplus knives to Api and Artimpasa. In solidarity with Genowefa, they lightly cut their lower belly so that they would bleed with her. With this blood, they marked their bodies in a similar fashion.

The low humming passed through the People. They slowly marched to their enemies, to their deaths.

The Men of the Bull remained in place (the vanguard). The main body joined them. All told there were fifty mounted men. The leader and the Sacerdotes were perplexed, but not frightened. The same could not be true of all the men. Many were old warriors, but they were nearing the end of their use as fighting men. The new men that filled the ranks, as the old comrades died, were, for the most part, unbloodied...and no one, regardless of experience, had experienced the scene they were witnessing.

At a distance of perhaps two extreme bow shots from the enemy, the People halted. The enemy could hear the humming now.

The Council began the song...a new song, never heard, Jadzia started, after she repeated the verses a few times Nik and I, Pawel, joined. Then, the People. It was mournful, yet hope-filled:

As long as I survive

The People

Survive

As long as anyone of us survives

The People survive

As long as the memory of us Lives

The People Survive

As Long as the memory of Us Lives

The People will Rise

Again!

The People cannot die

The People will not die

Our enemies Perish

The memory of our enemies fade

The People LIVE!

Then skyrba, the strangest thing... You know your ancient histories. You are an educated man. You know the Old Empire historian who wrote of a people (the Celts?)

the old empire wished to subdue. The final battle a great host of the Celts met the soldiers of the old empire. In their battle tradition, the Celts went into battle nude...and aroused. It was said by the historian that this was to intimidate the old empire soldiers. "Not only will we kill our enemies, we will sexually defile your bodies." In this, I think your learned historian was wrong, he was a gossip and a sensationalist. Near death, men, flaunt their manhood.

The same happened with our men...their bucs were transformed, the women, all the women transformed all the men...It was not real, and yet, it was; it was impossible, and yet it happened; our enemies saw it, they wrote of it, along with all else that happened—that day we burned ourselves into their memory.

Some say Tabiti called the wolves of the stypia on our enemies. Indeed, there was much howling, but the Men of the Bull had their wolfhounds, too. They had their power and their magic. Their Sacerdotes carried a bit of magic wood with him...his men removed their helms and bowed to it before they fell on us.

They attacked the wings of our people, first seeing the archer, Jurek, and the slinger, Alla, as most dangerous. But missile fires are effective only en masse... We had but one slinger and an archer with only a hunting bow. Both Alla's and Jurek's shots were true. They hit their mark, but it made little difference, Alla's man was unhorsed, stunned by the stone to his helm; Jurek's arrow struck his target rider in the thigh, but his leather skirt was pierced but only a slight wound to his leg. Ten men were assigned to attack each of them and nine closed with both before they could fire again...the good hunter is not a warrior. Alla and Jurek died quickly, mercifully but messily.

Their center attacked but rode around Genowefa out of respect for her powers.

A horse archer stood off and killed our swordsman, Ludek, before he could land a blow. Those of us left were still singing.

As long as I survive

The People

Survive

As long as anyone of us survives

The People survive

As long as the memory of us Lives

The People Survive

As Long as the memory of Us Lives

The People will Rise

Again!

The People cannot die

The People will not die

Our enemies Perish

The memory of our enemies fade

The People LIVE!

Hirek and Tabiti took that as permission to flee the field and, indeed, that was their right...all the people have the right to do what they must, their duty as they see it.

Their horses were not fresh from the scouting and galloping they had done. The horsemen who had done in Jurek pursued them. My mind was full of memories of that day...the song meant someone had to remember all...as I was the only one left...I had all the memories.

Tabiti and Hirek's horses foundered, with no weapons, they were easily captured. As they were captured some distance from the leaders of the Men of the Bull, the young men who captured them had their sport with them; Hirek's buc was still transformed, Tabiti's magic was strong, Hirek was castrated as he lived and watched to see Tabiti shamefully treated as he bled out, his severed buc in his mouth.

Under the leaders' control, we fared better...all died—but at least the women were not shamefully treated. A few of the riders grew careless, as more of us fell and Gustek and Dmytro did unhorse several that ventured too close. Their women never had a chance to use their knives, as the horsemen had trained for being unhorsed and slashed away with short swords to protect themselves, while they were down until more men came to overcome the women.

Lada was the last of the weapon bearers to fall. In her mind, she saw her fate if captured, as the whore of a rough soldier and ended her life with her own knife.

The Council had absurdly continued its dance forward ignored by the horsemen. We sang our song until we reached Genowefa. She joined our song and our magic circle survived for a time. The farmstead was to be saved...we read that in the thoughts and actions of the leaders of the Men of the Bull. It would be granted as a prize to a retired soldier...a real soldier, as a pension, not one of the 'irregular' such as the Men of the Bull were.

They left us there standing in the field...as long as we were still, we were spared...our singing was grating on them. They seemed to have a law against harming 'holy people' as they thought of us.

That night shitting and starving and chilled to the bone in that field guards stationed a distance from us...a thick fog enveloped us... though a lone horse was heard...Invisible until it touched me! Adira! I was told I must go...I would be the youngest of the council. The council, the past and the future of the People. Now, only me.

The others would die in that field...the Men of the Bull could not shed the blood of holy people, but they could let them die of exposure, starvation and illness.

Genowefa was the last to go...in her dying she sent me her memories...I thought then she lied to me, as she died, but soon, I learned the truth. "Pawel, you live for the People, you live and will be a king, you will be a king and live long after that!"

I laughed, as I cried bitter tears.

And yet...here I am, Skryba.

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