THE DEATH MASTER CHRONICLES

Dust from the thousands of horses and camels in Generalissimo Lord Bayan’s immense army stirred a dense layer of loose dust that rose in a dense cloud throughout the edge of the plains. As they approached the high mountain valleys bordering the edge of the Himalayan structure, the landscape became heavily coated with the dusty fog in the cool autumn air at the approach of evening. The troops passage left the grass and trees and leaves covered with a never ending film which flew aloft and created another cloud whenever the wind rose. The strength of this particular army numbered over one hundred eighty thousand. The warrior count did not include the varied and considerable number of consorts and camp followers allowed to accompany the armada, in addition to extra mounts for each trooper. Nearly all the kingdoms and sheikdoms conquered in this particular campaign surrendered without a battle. Once confronted by Lord Bayan’s formidable numbers, the usual and rapid choice was immediate capitulation. The Generalissimo commanded several armies with an equal number of warriors and if the need arose, could summon over a million men in a very short time. Lord Bayan’s successes depended largely on the strategy of placing soldiers in small formations scattered over hundreds of miles to deceive the prey. Opposing commanders would view several troops containing scattered and small numbers, assuming the approaching threat was merely a token force. The entire command would come together overnight confronting any adversary with a formidable man army. These same commanders usually acted prudently and surrendered. The success of the Generalissimo’s ensuing operations followed an inevitable pattern in complete and total capitulation with not a single battle lost. Lord Bayan’s system was so thorough he seldom lost many men. This had been another usual day nearing the end of summer in the year 1384. Edwin De Rasske and his friend Gustav Luz Renke had now traveled with the Khan’s troops for nearly one year. “Edwin, where do I stake the tent?” Gustav’s booming voice cut through the dust laden air. “Anywhere you like, my friend.” He answered while beating the film of the day’s travel from his tunic. The autumn air was decidedly cool and Edwin thought only of a bowl of warm rice and a cup of hot tea. He visited the well of the oasis near the camp and drank deeply from the wooden bucket hoisted out of the hole in the ground by a rope tied to a makeshift cranking system. He washed his face and hands to remove the grime of the days travel and also eyed the small lake at the edge of the camp ground, wanting to bathe in the cold water, but even now knowing it to be forbidden. He must wait until the horses and camels had quenched their thirst and everyone else in the troop bivouacked at this particular camp had finished their toiletry. Warriors were first and then everyone else according to their station in life assigned by Lord Bayan. The Generalissimo’s rules were strict, mandating those at the lower end of his caste system to wait their turn. Edwin was a guest and even though he served as historian and secretary for the Generalissimo, the last thing he wanted was to offend the commanding general of the Great Khan. Should this happen, life expectancy could become critically shortened. Edwin and his friend Gustav had traveled with the army for many months since joining the caravan in the far away Turkish desert. Definitely a stroke of good fortune, he decided, looking back on the first encounter. If they had not joined the huge armada they would surely have perished by now at the hands of the warriors of any one of the small kingdoms they had travelled through. In the beginning, Lord Bayan had been suspicious and seemed inclined to cast the two out of his group of close subordinates and advisors. However, once apprised of the fact Edwin had been sent by the Great Khan, he changed his mind. Since this scholar spoke so many languages fluently and could write most of them with excellent penmanship, the Generalissimo eventually decided it would be to his advantage to retain Edwin in some manner. Many of the Great Khan’s generals would have simply killed both men because they were outsiders and not welcome. In this instance an exception was made as Edwin and Gustav were brought before the supreme commander and shoved down on their knees to show respect. “What are you doing in my army? What is the reason you travel with me? What do you wish to gain by travelling with my troops, protection from the rest of the world?” The Generalissimo had asked curtly. “If it please, my lord,” Edwin began, “we are merely scholars. Several months ago, the Great Khan sent a messenger asking if I could pen matters in different languages. It seems he learned of my abilities from one of the villagers of a settlement we had passed through. I assured the messenger I could do this. He gave me this scroll and instructed the two of us to join your caravan and assist you in any way possible. I’ve tried to gain an audience with you and explain this for many moons, but have been unable to do so until now. This is all I seek. I know enough of your dialect to carry on a simple conversation, but I can read and pen many others. I would like very much to learn your language structure and also have the opportunity to study with you and learn from you.” He concluded bowing until his head touched the carpet in front of the General Bayan. He raised up slightly to hand the scroll to the commander. “Your words have surely saved your life, scholar,” was the testy reply. He broke the seal on the rolled up scroll and read it quickly.