Dishon Chapter 10

IN THE TENTH YEAR OF RECAB, KING OF DISHON
The soldier dried his tears, and continued his story. "It was at this time that an invasion took place from the country of Marram. Full scale war was evident. Every army Nathor sent suffered heavy causalities. Very soon, it became excruciatingly clear that Nathor had no able men to spare, not even the kings slaves. My father was forced into the army, and it is here that his healing began. Although the army of a losing nation is not exactly the best place to create a well adjusted person, it was a tremendous improvement from his previous lifestyle. In the army, he had enough food, and he no longer needed to steal. He had friends for the first time in his life, people who cared about him. He received discipline and order in his life, which after the initial shock he adjusted to quite well. He found he liked the soldiers life, and he put his enthusiasm into his work. He was distinguished on the battle field several times, and received several awards for his bravery. In three years time, he had become a minor officer. It was at this time that he was called into help plan the strategy. He was, as a minor officer, supposed to just sit and listen at the meetings. He had a hard time doing that, and one meeting he was unable to contain himself. He made a suggestion that astounded the leaders, clearly showing he had a genius for strategy above any of the other officers, minor or major. Since that time, his opinion was asked at every meeting, and each time he had a suggestion to make which would amaze all of his comrades. It wasn't long before he himself was solely drawing up the plans. You sir, have seen his work many times I trust, and you know the complexity of his designs. Although they were not quite as good as they are now, they were very similar. His promotions came like rain from that point on, for he seemed to have a golden touch. Every thing he was put in charge of flourished like never before. Two years later, Marram was beaten back to its own land, and my father was the head of Nathor's military.
"His position was one of the top ten most powerful in Nathor, so when it was discovered he had never had an education, he was put to work, studying day and night. By this time he was twenty five years old, and it was decided that he was too old to ever receive a complete education, yet Quintel wanted to invest his gifts, so my father studied strategy all the time from that point on, by order of the king. Before he could read the memoirs of famous generals, however, my father first had to learn to read.
"Learning to read represented a new field for him. Sitting down and quietly looking at letters printed on paper was alien to his previous barbaric lifestyle, but it was a change he had to make. He was challenged now like never before in academics, and it helped bring out a new man in him. He was still an immoral man, but now he was an educated immoral man, thoughtful, and reasoning. Once reading was conquered, he had to learn proper manners for the kings court, a far cry from his lifestyle as a soldier. His vocabulary had to be cleansed of vulgar words. His personal hygiene, which had been previously non existent, was now rigorously kept. His name needed to be changed too. After studying Nathorite history, my father choose to name himself after Perez, claiming he would someday become twice as famous as his namesake, with his miraculous gifts. There are many things I could say about his new palace life, but they can all be summed up in this: He became a gentleman on the outside, but retained his barbarism on the inside.
"I, meanwhile, had been born a slave like my father. As I have already said, my mother, Titaba, was a slave raped by Perez. I was born shortly before the war with Marram began, and named Drusus by my mother. My mother did not want a child, but had no choice. Fortunately, she was kind to me, and did not focus her anger on my infant body. From the day of my birth, I heard nothing but bad things about Perez from my mother, most of them true. In no time at all I had a view of him as the most evil creature ever to walk Fabulae. Fortunately, I did not suffer the same fate my father did, I had someone who cared for me. My mother made sure I always had enough food. I never had to steal anything. By her hand I was protected from all manner of bullies.
"Even as a small boy, I still looked amazingly similar to my father. One day, when I was seven years old, I was asked who my father was by one of the nobles in the court, whose boots I was in the act of polishing. Thinking little of it, I replied truthfully. The noble gave me such a blow with his hand that my little body was forcefully knocked against a wall three meters away from my previous position. He cursed me for lying, saying no son of Perez would be a slave. If I was truly his son, I would be right now enjoying the luxuries of court life. His ignorance is excusable. Being a former slave is one of the biggest political stumbling blocks that exist, so Perez had used his power to stop the knowledge of his past from spreading. The noble probably assumed Perez had always lived in the kings favor.
"The noble loudly demanded a truthful answer. I was so frightened I couldn't think enough to lie. I just stuttered my original answer. After a futile attempt to extract the 'truth' from me, the noble gave up and ordered me flogged. He then informed Perez that a slave boy was pretending to be his son, and he might want to do something about it. Perez immediately realized that I must indeed be his son, and thought, truthfully so, that if my relation to him was discovered, his past would become common knowledge. That night, Perez ordered two of his trusted soldiers to kill me. I was fast asleep when the soldiers came to get me that same night. One of them covered my mouth, to prevent me from screaming for help. His other hand was wrapped tight around my body, while the second soldier grabbed both of my legs. By the time I realized I was being carried off, I was too far away from the rest of the slaves, including my mother, to try and awake them by struggling. The soldiers were skilled, and awoke none of the slaves. If any where awakened, they simply paid no attention, for few cared about each other."
Miktesh was by this time, quite absorbed in the tale. His thoughts were racing through his head. How could the Perez he knew be the same that was described in this story? He waited patiently for the answer. "I was dragged out to the courtyard, for the execution to take place. I should have died then and there, but I thank Deka that my life was sparred. The king had trouble sleeping that night, and was walking alone through the courtyard. When he saw me struggling against my assassins, he demanded to know what was going on. The soldiers had been sworn to secrecy by Perez, but wisely decided it was better to obey the king. They told him everything. Perez origins were nothing new to the king, but the fact that he had a son was. My education was considered an investment in the future. My mother and I were raised to the status of nobles.
Needless to say, Perez's slave origins quickly became common knowledge, and all hope he had of one day becoming king was lost. Only a few days ago the kingship seemed certain to be his in time, but now he had to accept the fact that it would never be a reality. With all his ambitions gone, life seemed to lose its purpose. Perez spent several months pondering what exactly he wanted out of life. He surrounded himself with the finest Philosophers in Nathor. Although no two philosophers had the same message, many shared a common theme, your life has meaning when you help others. Perez began practicing this, and the monster inside of him gradually died out. At this point, war broke out again with Marram. Marram had spent the years since her defeat nursing her wounds and her grudges. She was now more powerful then before, and her people were wild with the idea of crushing the first country that had defeated them. Perez was sent off to the border, where he spent the next ten years battling Marram.
"I, meanwhile, spent the next ten years being educated in the palace. The pampered life I then led was quite different from my life as a slave, yet I never forgot how cruelly I had been treated by those who know claimed to be my friends. I never quite fit with those at the kings court.
"Shortly after my father had beaten Marram for the second time, the king Quintel died at the age of two hundred." Miktesh' eyes widened for a moment, then he remembered that the average life of a Nathorite was about that long. He continued listening to the tale. "His son, Quintus, assumed command, but he did not have the support of the people. Most of the common people favored Curatius, a military hero. Civil war was imminent.
"My father chose to support Quintus, as a favor to the family that had given him such a high position. I left to join Curatius, as a rebellion against the king's court, whom I still hated. Then, as now, I was far from my fathers equal in strategy, yet I had exhibited a talent not dissimilar from his, so at the age of seventeen, Curatius gave me my first command. I was put in charge of three legions of soldiers, and a wide range of assignments to chose from. I still hated my father, so I asked to be in charge of intercepting, and hopefully defeating, his army. I still remember Curatius' words to me after I had made my request. 'If anyone can do it Drusus, you can.'
"I realized I had no chance of defeating my father in a fair fight, so I arranged an ambush. I instructed my men to take no prisoners, but crush the enemy completely. The ambush went well, but it quickly turned into a fierce battle, with heavy causalities on both sides. I, myself, joined into the fighting. My training at the palace was no match for these veterans of the second Marramian war, but I fought valiantly none the less. My men fought hard too, but in the end we were defeated. I led my army in a retreat, and the enemy had too many casualties to pursue us. I should have taken this warning, but I did not. The very next day our two armies battled again.
"Once again it was a bloody fight, with both sides taking heavy losses, but in the end my army was defeated. Most of my men were killed, some escaped, and about one hundred were captured. I was one of those captured. Being recognized as the commander, I was singled out for special treatment. I was brought before Perez, who immediately recognized me as his son. As soon as I was identified as such, I was sure he would kill me as he attempted ten years before, not knowing how much he had changed since then. Perez granted me my life, but I was to be banished from Nathor. I went to Calet and have been a carpenter for many years. I'm close to forty years old now, but don't look so surprised. My youthful appearance is simply a result of the Nathor lifespan. My equivalent in human age is about twenty."
"You've been in Calet for over twenty years, and your strategic talent has never been utilized?" Miktesh was astonished.
"Yes sir. Shortly after I came here, Quintus won the war with my fathers help. He turned out to be a ruthless dictator, however, killing left and right. My father was ashamed he had helped to put such a man on the thrown, and left for Calet also, not knowing I was here. When he arrived he immediately rose to a position of great power. I did not wish us to meet again so I kept my identity a secret by concealing my gifts. Once I found out he was missing, I decided that I would help you if he would not. I enlisted in your army, demonstrated my ability to Kile, and had him recommend me to you. I'm sorry I missed the meeting, but I was delayed by my senior officer, who didn't believe I had an interview with you."
"Well, if your half as good as your father was, you've got the job. Be in my tent early tomorrow morning, with my other advisors Kirtten and Kile. We'll go over our strategy then."
"Thank you sir. I won't disappoint you." Drusus bowed as he exited the tent.