Amantis made a point of staying home to eat supper and not going out to the ale house afterwards. He kept paying Charissa little courtesies, broadcasting by barely subtle means his intentions of spending the evening with her. He felt he had been very patient with her through the long months of her pregnancy, but now that it was over, he intended to claim his rights as her husband.
After she had finished her bowl of cabbage soup, she rose, picked Garanth up and announced she was going to take him into the other room to nurse. He knew she intended to quietly crawl into bed afterwards and hoped to be asleep before he came in. It had become almost a routine with them, but as bed was where he wanted her, he simply poured a drink and sat watching Apaidia clean up, giving Charissa a head start.
It irritated him that Charissa still insisted on calling the baby Garanth. The appropriate time for the name-day had come and gone at least a fortnight ago without the ceremony. Ponta had been quite distressed about the situation and when he had explained that they still could not agree on a name, she had suggested "Amantis Garanth" as a compromise. He had repeated the conversation to Charissa, expecting her disapproval, yet was still surprise at the fury of her wordless glare.
He didn't much care what the child was called. What irritated him was her unwillingness to acknowledge his rights as the father. It was almost as if she wanted to pretend that Karux was the baby's father.
That was a name he hadn't thought of in a while.
He hadn't thought of that witless goat-turd in months. He wondered if she now did.
Amantis sighed and poured himself another drink. He had accomplished everything he'd set out to do so far and yet somehow failed at all of them. Their marriage had been a quiet shameful affair instead of the raucous village-wide party it should have been. Even the naming ceremony where friends and family would offer piles of blessings on the child was denied him. He seemed fated to always being denied the opportunity to bask in the simple glow of the community's approval.
Garanth made little fussing noises in the other room then quieted down. It seemed feeding time was over. Wishing Apaidia good night, Amantis went into the bedroom. Garanth lay sleeping in the middle of the bed, Charissa curled around him on her side.
Amantis carefully lifted the child from the bed and put him in the rarely used cradle. Garanth stirred, but thankfully stayed asleep. Removing the pouch with its stone from his belt, he put it on a shelf by the bed and removed his clothes. He slid under the covers, curled up next to Charissa and touched her gently on the shoulder.
Without opening her eyes, she turned away.
He sat up in bed, staring down at her, rage flooding through him. She just pulled up the covers over her shoulder and pretended he wasn't there.
How dare she, he thought. He had half a mind to beat her and take her by force. Who knows, he thought, she might even like it that way. She sure seemed to like it rough back in that stoma a year ago. He'd had to cover her mouth to keep Pronos and Somek from hearing her pleasure as she kicked and scratched that day.
No, he thought as he lay back down in the darkness too angry to sleep. He would somehow make her want him. She would forget her anger over being forced to leave the village—it was those senile old elders' fault anyway. Someday she would recognize her spousal obligations and then she'd realize how patient he'd been with her. He glanced at the stone in its pouch on the shelf. He'd consulted it before on how to make her want him, but it seemed the stone was powerless in matters of the heart.
-=====|==
Amantis tossed and turned all night and got almost no sleep. He woke in a foul mood and stormed out of the house the next morning, marching down to Straton's field where he'd forced his reavers to sleep in tents. In between the two lines of tents was a vast muddy expanse that got churned every day beneath hundreds of feet as his spearmen, divided into two teams, competed violently for wreaths of laurel, for bragging rights and the joy of watching the losing team get extra duties.
"How long must we sleep in these tents?" one of his reavers, Thrainos, asked as Amantis approached.
"Until you all can learn to arrive on time for practice. At this point, I'd say never."
"Some of the men are beginning to complain since you won't allow their wives or girlfriends to visit."
"Please me, and I might give them an evening off to go visit them. Where's Ctonos?"
"On the field doing striking drills." He nodded over at a group of young men dressed as farmers standing on the street corner with a dozen mules laden with baskets. They all stared in open-mouthed wonder at the city around them. "We've also got a new bunch of recruits that need sorting out."
"Just great," Amantis growled. "I guess I better deal with them first." He strode over to an old man who stood by a mule clenching its lead as if someone might walk by and snatch the animal, or as if he feared they might get lost in the huge maze of buildings that comprised the city of Nur. "Where are you from?"
"Korion-Koemae, if it please, dra. It's just north by—"
"I don't need to know where it is. How big is it?"
"Well," the old man looked up at the sky and scratched his head. "It starts by the river—"
"Not the area, you idiot! What's the population?"
The old man blinked at him in surprise. "About two hundred and fifty I guess, give or take a handful."
"These are all the reavers you brought? Less than a dozen scrawny boys? Do you really think these will be able to save your korion?"
"Now the messenger said—"
"Is this the food and goods you brought?"
"Yes..."
"How much is there?"
"Well, let's see..."
"Is that a counting stick?" Amantis ripped the counting stick from the old man's hand and examined the tokens hanging from the strings which represented the goods he brought.
"We've got some grain, some cloth and some vegetables..." the old man began helpfully in his slow drawl, but Amantis had already summed up the total in his head.
"You didn't actually bring cabbages did you?"
"Yes?"
Amantis ripped open a bag to find a bunch of half-wilted cabbages. "Do you actually think this is enough to support these reavers for a year?"
"Now, these boys don't actually eat that much..."
"They will once I begin working them. This is completely unacceptable." Amantis waved the counting stick to indicate the mules, their goods and even the boys he had brought. "Take them away. Take them all away."
"But the messenger said—"
"I don't care what the messenger said. If you expect us to defend your korion, you will need to bring three times the men and ten times the food."
"But we can't..."
"Listen, if the angorym come and you have no reavers, they will eat you, all of you, and I will let them! Now go away and don't come back until you're serious about doing your part."
The old man glanced at the counting stick in Amantis' hand as if he wanted it back.
Amantis nearly beat the man with it, but walked away instead. He headed toward the field when Troekis, a distant relative of Corago who lived in his house and served as an assistant both in his home and at the business, intercepted him with a wax tablet.
"Amantis, I have the contract for farmer Georgos' harvest."
"What? Can't Corago handle it?" Amantis took the tablet and scanned the list of symbols representing the goods the farmer wanted in trade for his entire harvest.
"Mr. Corago is busy with another matter. He's asked to have you handle this and to invite you to dine with him at his house at midday."
"Very well." He slapped the tablet back in Troekis' hand. Tell Georgos we'll give him the fish and all the small stuff, but we'll only give him five vads of beer."
"And what shall I tell Mr. Corago about dinner?"
Amantis waved the counting stick irritably as he walked away. "Tell him I'll be there."
He found Ctonos instructing the new recruits in how to throw their weight into the strike. Using wooden practice poles, they lunged at heavy man-sized leather bales hanging on ropes from wooden scaffolding.
"Harder!" Ctonos yelled as each group of spearmen charged forward to strike the leather bags, "Send them higher!"
Amantis stood at the side watching until Ctonos saw him and turned the trainees over to an assistant.
"Is the first group ready?" Amantis asked.
"We couldn't find a tent big enough so we set up a barrier around that grassy knoll."
Amantis followed his gesture and saw a tree on a small hill surrounded by a wall of tent fabric. In fact his men had set up multiple surrounding walls so that one could not see anything that took place inside. "Very good."
As they walked to the site, Amantis watched his men train and felt his tension melt into a deep satisfaction. These were his men. They looked to him, and he could do with them whatever he wanted.
"I see you sent the last group back," Ctonos said.
"Their korion lacked commitment. I told them to come back when they were serious. We won't protect them until then."
"Even a fisherman will throw back a fish if it is too small."
"Just so. Any luck finding any smiths among the last catch?"
"None yet. I know some of these come from koria that have them. I've hinted at special rewards if they can bring one in."
"Keep it up. The local smiths have been bleeding us dry since we increased the demand for spear points. We have to try to be as self-sufficient as possible. Only then can we control our own destiny."
Ctonos chuckled. "I like that word, destiny. What do you think we are destined for?"
Amantis shrugged. "Anything...everything...the whole world."
-=====|==
Inside the circle of tent cloth, standing under the tree was much like standing inside an enormous building.
"Reavers up!" Ctonos called.
Amantis stood at the crown of the hill watching his men rise up straight in ordered rows. The butt end of their spears thudded into the ground next to their right foot in precise unity. They stood absolutely still their spears perfect vertical lines at their sides.
"Reavers ready!"
The spearmen lifted up their spears, taking them in two hands and slid one foot forward, all in unison."
"Thrust! Recover!"
The reavers lunged forward with their spear, then drew back to the ready position.
"Block! Strike!"
Amantis watched in growing pride as the spearmen held their spears up sideways as if blocking a blow, then struck out with the butt end as if smashing an imaginary foe in the head. Ctonos continued calling out moves demonstrating different blocks as if they were defending from attacks coming at them from different directions.
"Kill!"
The reavers stabbed the ground as if finishing off a fallen foe.
"Ready!"
They withdrew with a little spinning flourish, stood up straight and planted the butt ends of their spears next to their right foot, precisely where they'd had them before.
Ctonos turned and faced Amantis, his face stiff and formal. "Dra, your reavs are ready for your command."
Amantis beamed. "Men, as you know, a grave danger now threatens all the tribes of men. By the grace of the Most High, I have been granted the oracles to protect us. Those oracles now include you."
Amantis stopped and scanned the men standing still before him. He couldn't have been any prouder if they had been his own children. "You are here, not just because you were the first to bravely answer your peoples' call when they had need of you, but because you are braver, stronger, faster, more cunning and more skilled at the spear than your fellows. You are the best your people have to offer and all that stands before the dark evil that would destroy your madras, your adras, your wives and children.
"I am sure you will acquit yourselves well in the coming struggle, but I am here to call you to something more. I have chosen you to be my elite guard. You are tasked not only with the defense of our people, but specifically for the defense of this..." Amantis gestures with his counting stick as he searched for the right word. The beads rattled as it passed over their heads. "...soreav," he said, coining the word for army on the spot. "You will guard and nurture this force of spears. You will protect its interests, support its leadership and train its recruits. On your shoulders will rest the hopes of men and only your discipline and obedience can protect us."
Turning to Ctonos, Amantis said, "My right hand has already divided you up into "hands" and "hands of hands". I will now select the head of each "hand of hands". On him will fall the glory or dishonor of your actions and so he will bear the power to reward or punish you."
"Kneel!" Ctonos commanded and the reavers all dropped to one knee and bowed their heads.
Descending the hill, Amantis walked along the groups of twenty-five men, pausing at the corner of each "hand of hands" where Ctonos had already positioned the chosen leaders. As Amantis walked along, he tapped each chosen leader on the head with the counting stick. The man lifted his head and Ctonos gave him a long knife fashioned from bronze. The blades were ridiculously expensive, but remembering the knives the tribal fathers of Korion-Garanth had given their sons, Amantis was determined to outdo them. So he had these blades fashioned in the manner of the angoran's long knife which he still carried. These blades were not quite so big as the angoran's, bronze being much heavier than the metal the angorym used, but the impact was just as great as each man received the blade with shocked and joyous expressions.
"Reavers up!" Ctonos commanded when they had given away all the long knives.
"From now on, you will no longer tent with the other two groups." Amantis reached behind him and picked up a spear whose shaft had been painted black and from which black crow feathers hung from leather thongs bound just beneath the spear heads. "From now on you will be Soreav Voth Calbreav, the soreav of the black spears. You will be exempt from the duties of the other groups and tent separate from the rest."
As the men filed out, Ctonos gave a black spear to each one. Once outside the circle of tent cloth, Amantis could hear them cheering. "Those men will now follow you anywhere," Ctonos said, "even into the Void itself."