"What do you know of the history of Klain?" The Treasurer asked Finn.
"Almost nothing at all." She looked flustered by the question. Her lessons came from the village's books, very few of which contained history. Most of what she knew, she was taught by Amelia, and that included little about Klain.
"Klain has been at peace for over two hundred years, after the last territorial war with the sea-dwellers to the South. Any school child in the city will tell you that. We have high walls and a wonderful military," he gestured graciously to the General, "and extreme plans of defense. But why? Most will say preparedness and the prevention of war, and there is some truth to that, but it goes far deeper.
"Long ago, faded from the memory of most history books and into semi-legend, there was a great war." He turned a page of the great tome to reveal an illustration of an enormous battle between two great armies next to a lake and in the shadow of a mountain. "Klain was a city in its infancy, merely a group of many villages that had banded together to build something more. This place seemed the perfect location to build it: plentiful water, fertile land, temperate weather, and a very defensible position." He turned the page to reveal another battle scene; one of cliffs and boulders and people being crushed.
"There were those who lived in the mountain that resented the large group below. They attacked using unconventional methods when traditional ones failed; nature seemed to favor them somehow, with even the rocks and creatures doing as this enemy wanted. The people of Klain fell into despair as the earth itself was against them. In their desperation they turned turned to a great sorcerer for aid."
Finn had never heard of sorcery outside of little children's fairy tales. What kind of 'history' book was this? Magic couldn't be real-- but then, Jimmy had claimed to... but he was a crazy old man, wasn't he? Finn shook her head and refocused on the story the Treasurer told.
"The sorcerer urged the people of Klain to bring him various herbs and plants. They gathered for eight days and brought him all they could find. He mixed them together and scattered them across the whole city, as the enemy prepared a devastating attack from above. When the attack fell, the people and the city disappeared from sight. The enemy was pulled down with their rocks and many were crushed to death upon them. When the city reappeared, it was victoriously on top of the rubble instead of beneath it. The army of Klain drove out the enemy and built a fortress such that none could ever attack it again. The cliffs were reinforced to prevent rockslides, then tunnels and bridges were constructed to prevent infiltration, all possible measures were taken, as the enemy threatened its magical revenge.
"However, all the magic plants of the land had been gathered for the sorcerer, and none remained for the enemy to use. Beaten and poor, they were sent further and further out into the wilderness, away from all civilized people, lest their threats of revenge come to pass upon the land. It is said they went away into the desert and were never seen again, becoming less and less human as they wandered, if they ever were human to begin with." The Treasurer turned the page again to reveal a shining city on a hill, with a dark shadow retreating in the distance.
"That enemy called themselves The Rhone."
The three listeners absorbed this information with gravity and consternation.
"Do you believe this 'history'?" The General asked skeptically.
"I thought it best to bring it to your attention before our people go to war against an unknown enemy." The Treasurer offered diplomatically. "I make no recommendation as to what you do with this information now that you have it. Ultimately, to answer your question, many of the older history books are somewhat embellished in their storytelling, but this volume has seemed to be largely credible when compared to other sources covering the same time periods."
"Several of the things in the history match what I saw by the village," said Finn, concentrating, "nature obeying them, the name of course, and having been driven out into the wilderness. Even if these soldiers aren't actually descended from the Rhone of this history, they seem to know enough about them to claim to be. It's far too much to be a coincidence."
"A fair observation," stated Dr. Sherman, "there is power in words, particularly in names. That name claims an ancient birthright to this land, and might persuade some to join that cause. We must be cautious, I think, as we move forward against them."
The General sighed. "I wish they were simple bandits to be jailed or exterminated."
"Are there other copies of this history?" Finn asked. "Would anyone besides the Rhone have reason to have record of this?"
"I cannot tell you that. I do know that only the few under my supervision have access to research the older, fragile volumes like this one. It would take quite an elaborate scheme to imitate an ancient, presumably long dead civilization." The Treasurer squinted in thought.
"Indeed, that would be an elaborate ruse. I do not think it is coincidence, but I am not yet convinced that they are indeed the same people group mentioned here." The General stroked his beard in thought.
"I will continue my research and keep you apprised." The Treasurer nodded his head to the three. It seemed like a dismissal.
"May I help?" Asked Finn. She belatedly realized it might be a presumptuous request. "That is… I would be honored if you would allow me to assist you in this. Several things are beginning to come together and I don't adequately understand it all yet."
The Treasurer cut his eyes over to the General, who was already becoming used to Finn's lack of self-awareness when it came to interjecting herself into conversations. The habit had even begun to amuse him, and he gave a short nod to the Treasurer indicating his endorsement.
"That would be acceptable." Was the Treasurer's reluctant reply. Normally, Treasury assistants went through extensive and harrowing training before being allowed to touch anything whatsoever, but his respect for the wishes of his fellow Council member outweighed the other consideration just now.
"Then we will let you do so." The General shook the man's hand while Dr. Sherman bowed.
"Be back in time for supper or my wife will be quite miffed." He said to Finn.
"Yes, sir." She smiled. "I will."
There was much to consider, and not much time to research it all as they waited for news of the army recruits' progress.
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The soldiers marched ever onward toward their destination. Captain Grayson considered and reconsidered the best way to approach. After consulting with Riley and Roland, who knew the area best of any of the soldiers, he decided to send Riley ahead with a scout to determine the exact location of the enemy and hostages. After pinpointing them, he would plan the attack or hostage extraction based on the intelligence received. Acting on more information was always preferable to less.
Riley found Captain Grayson somewhat inscrutable. During their consultation he had repeatedly looked for an opportunity to bring up the sword and find out more about its origins, but the Captain always deftly steered the conversation away from the topic and back into planning. It was somewhat frustrating, but there seemed very little Riley could do about it.
Since he had volunteered for the army, he was now under the command of the officer. The belated realization of the constraints Riley had put himself under were less than thrilling. Still, this seemed the best way to help his family and village. He would willingly sacrifice whatever freedom he had to make it so.
The Captain, for his part, observed Riley carefully. He wanted to see the young man spar, but such an exercise was less than appropriate when a mission was on the cusp of completion. The clang of swords and sounds of a bout might attract the attention of the enemy. At this time, the soldiers had become as stealthy as such a group could possibly be. It might not matter one whit if the wind changed and exposed their scent to the enemy's wolves, but they did what they could.
While the majority of the group took a quiet and guarded rest, Riley and John, the scout, took the turnoff from the main road toward the village. Moving quickly and as silently as they could, they soon came to the site of the first burned home, Finn's. The ashes had cooled and resembled a large grey-black scar on the forest floor.
Riley wanted to stop and search it for any possessions that had survived. If he could bring her anything that she treasured, it might help mitigate a little bit of the pain of losing everything. However, the pile of ashes looked utterly desolated, as if the fire had burned much too hot to let anything survive its devouring flames. He also couldn't risk stopping for this errand when he hadn't yet pinpointed the enemy's location. To be caught doing such a thing would be foolhardy.
The village had been constructed loosely, with each house visible to the next, but only just. Plenty of space made for good neighbors. Riley gestured the other man forward, and they crept toward the village's central square, where the villagers and enemy had last been seen. Mentally, Riley mapped out the best places to place groups of soldiers to surround the square. He had drawn a crude map of the village and surrounding area in as much detail as he could for Captain Grayson. Riley thought to break the army up into groups of ten or so men for mobility, but perhaps that would be too difficult to coordinate.
The Captain had studied the map and listened to Riley's suggestions. The dense brush of this area of the forest made large groups less practical than smaller, more mobile ones, but there was the principle of safety in numbers. To weigh those considerations against each other and plan for certain, the Captain wanted up to date information on the locations and numbers of enemy combatants.
As the village square came into view, Riley's expression changed entirely. This was not at all what he'd hoped to see.