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Anwhal took a deep breath before calling a halt to the marching troops behind him. They were making good time toward the capitol and he knew his soldiers could push hard when the need arose, but he also knew it was important to be seen approaching the various villages and allowing them to move the message forward that Anwhal was coming and he was not alone.
The column halted and immediately settled into parade rest, awaiting the order to set up camp. He was proud of them. They represented to him what it really meant to be Groga. These men were not blood-thirsty or cruel. They were well trained in the arts of war, but they would have been just as happy to settle somewhere with their families and live a quiet life. Up until now, that hadn’t been a possibility for them.
Neither the Fleistians nor the Inseni had a concept of a retired soldier. They used their forces until they used them up or until they were killed in battle. The enslaved Groga soldiers were only sent away from the battlefield to breed some unfortunate Groga woman and never allowed to stay on the scene long enough for one of their children to be born.
It was a constant focus of Anwhal and the commanders he had personally trained to prevent these men whom he so admired from going hard-hearted. This was a continuing struggle as their Inseni and Fleistian masters seemed to have no emotions other than cruelty and domination.
Anwhal had developed a training program for the Groga force that hid his actual intent. He had learned that their overseers were really only interested in the scheduled training exercises. Mealtimes were ignored as were maintenance times when the soldiers repaired clothing and equipment. Therefore, he kept the military training exercises completely businesslike.
His soldiers knew that during those times they needed to be accurate in their execution of every command, more than for the reason that this would save more lives in actual combat than anything else they learned.
During mealtimes and maintenance sessions, however, Anwhal kept the traditions of his people alive. He was even able to convince the Inseni that their ritual music and dances were “war chants and warrior posturing”. In actuality, they told of the honor, service, and loyalty of a manly heart.
Since neither the Inseni nor the Fleistians would put themselves to the trouble to learn the Groga language, this ruse was easy enough to get away with. So, the chants they marched to in formation were uplifting and kept his forces on a higher path than their tyrannical masters would have them pursue.
This is why, when the opportunity finally presented itself to potentially free them, he didn’t hesitate.
His men dispersed to their several tasks to set up camp for the evening. Jenny and her guards disembarked from their hover car and strode over to greet him. Jenny was looking much better the last few days, as their schedule was much less demanding during their travels, especially when she was able to ride comfortably in her out worldly conveyance.
“I have some good news. Burt and Elizabeth will be joining us shortly.”
“Lord Burt? The ambassador of the Alliance? I saw him die. That is not possible.”
“You saw, as I did, an illusion designed to confuse the enemy. Gall was also deceived. Burt is quite well and ready to assist us in our cause. According to the Alliance Council, this is only the beginning of advice and support that will come your way as we are able to make agreements with your government and get the consent of your people to join us in our endeavor to liberate the multiverse from the Inseni threat.
They are prepared with foodstuffs and supplies for the journey, so they will be no additional burden on your resources. Burt has been assigned as an ambassador and a consultant for the potential upcoming conflict. He has the confidence of the Alliance and will be in constant contact with our assembling forces, so he will know as much as is possible about what is going on in the Inseni dimension.”
Anwhal nodded. This made sense. It was Burt who had made the arrangements for the revolt that was the first step in acquiring the final freedom of his people. Elizabeth was from one of the races who had at one time made it necessary for them to flee the original Groga home world, but now the Daringi understood that the Groga had fought under duress and were willing to work with the Groga to obtain freedom and peace.
It was ironic that they now found themselves on the same side, but stranger things had happened. Jenny, for instance, had been a key person in routing his people from her planet not so long ago and yet, here she was, championing the cause of Groga freedom and learning Groga customs. She had even begun to learn the basics of his language. Although she primarily still used mindspeech to communicate with his people, she could now use key phrases vocally. Considering the short time she had been with his people, this was nothing short of amazing to him.
“Will they need tents?”
“No, they are fully equipped. They use the same storage technology you saw me pull my vehicle from. They will be subtle about it. We aren’t trying to hide anything from you, but we also don’t wish to cause a distraction from the issues at hand. Fair enough?”
“As always, Jenny. If you and the Honored One will come with me, I will see to it that you are settled in your usual accommodations. Freia will then see to your needs and check your head. I hear it is healing surprisingly rapidly, although, as I think about it, probably not that surprising when the Honored One is aiding that healing.”
Jenny had tried to get him and his people to simply call the Honored One, Chidwi, her given name, but they could not bring themselves to think of her in that way. The legends of his people still spoke of the wisdom and goodness of the “Honored Ones” and this generation would not be the one to become casual with the respect owed to them.
Probably the deepest shame of his people was when the Fleistian contingent had raided the world where the former gatekeeper had lived. They had encountered Honored Ones in the trees beyond the village. They had not harmed them, but the Honored Ones had chittered and scolded from the treetops in that plaintive wail of theirs. For that reason, more than anything, the majority of the Groga people had disowned their brethren who had comprised the Fleistian forces.
None of them were proud of the part they played to protect their families from the depredations of the Fleistians and Inseni, but they were horribly shamed by the actions of this group of Groga soldiers.
They had strayed far from their training. They had embraced cruelty and barbarism to the point that what they were forced to do by their masters no longer seemed to bother them. These were fortunately the minority, but their force was still large enough. The headquarters on Fleist housed nearly a billion between the soldiers and their slaves.
The Inseni, on the other hand, kept a contingent isolated on another planet in their own dimension. Anwhal knew nothing about their numbers or whether they had succumbed to the culture of the Norgoth. The forces on Emperor Peril’s planet were still fairly large, potentially a million or so more than held by the Fleistians and they had left that place to return here, to their new home world.
As promised, Freia met them at the headquarters area of the encampment where the tent for Jenny and her bodyguards had been erected before any of the others. Freia escorted Jenny and the rest inside the tent where she would check on Jenny’s wound and make sure they got fed and rested.
Grephan joined Anwhal as he supervised the setup of the remainder of the camp. Not that he needed to do much more than encourage his men. They knew their jobs and were quick about it. They knew the sooner everything was in order, the sooner they could get food and have the opportunity to rest and enjoy one another’s company.
He was proud of his son. He hoped the time would come when he could engage in some occupation besides warfare. They all educated their children privately, as their masters didn’t encourage formal schooling. If it didn’t apply to warfare or producing needed food and supplies for those armies, it was discouraged and potentially even punished.
Their women had ceased doing traditional decorative needlework on their clothing, nor did they embellish any of the furniture or construction of their homes with anything that could be called creative or artistic under the reign of the Insenium. This had been considered a waste of precious hours when they could be producing what was needed in the Inseni plan to dominate the multiverse.
In addition, family lines had become blurred due to the aggressive breeding program of the Insenium, which had become stricter and more cruel than their lives under Fleistian rule.
His own father had been killed in a raid only a few days before his son was born. Anwhal hadn’t been there for the birth, of course, as he had been preparing for another raid. It was unusual for them to have many casualties because most of the raids were against dimensions without any real defenses. They simply invaded with no warning in huge numbers, completely overwhelming their victims. Most of the time those they attacked were exactly that; not foes that had done any wrong against them, but simply the victims chosen by their masters for the next raid.
The first time there had been any real opposition was in the final raid launched from the Earth base. For a change, they were the ones surprised by overwhelming numbers of trained warriors. They had lost nearly three thousand on that terrible day. These were of the Fleistian contingent; Groga who had been absorbed into the cruel attitudes of their masters. Anwhal grieved for their choices. For him, there was a big difference between fighting to protect their loved ones from harm and doing it for the pure joy of killing.
Or was there? Since the revolution Anwhal had been absorbed in the thought that they could have done this long ago had they been willing to make the sacrifice to expose their own non-combatants to the horrors of war. This was the decision they were making now. This was the commitment they would make by choosing not to fight for the Insenium and the Fleistians. How many innocents would die? On the other hand, were their own any more valuable than those they had callously slain at the command of their masters?
Unfortunately, there was nothing any of them could do about the past. They would pay the price now as they might have done in the beginning. They would no longer allow themselves to be used as an indiscriminate weapon to raid and enslave the innocent.
The slaves that were rewarded to them for successful raids lived among them. They had long since stopped treating them as such, but that didn’t compensate for the fact they had been brought here against their will initially. Most of the various people who had been brought there originally as slaves had been with them for several generations. They had created lives for themselves here. Some of them had gathered in villages of their own, but the majority lived mixed among his people, no longer looked down upon or treated any differently than any Groga citizen.
Considering that his people had been used as a weapon, they were a surprisingly peaceful people among themselves. He hoped that wouldn’t change if this war extended beyond generations. He had no illusions. His grandchildren and great-grandchildren might find themselves still fighting this war that he and his band had begun with the revolution against Emperor Peril.
A scout came running. “Commander, there is a delegation approaching from the capitol. They bear the standard of the High Groga.”
“Bring them to me in the command tent. Please notify the Gatekeeper and the Honored One that we desire their presence at this meeting.”
The scout nodded, turned on his heel, and ran off to do as he was told.
Anwhal straightened and ceased his inward turmoil. There was work to do. His course was set, and he would not agonize over what he couldn’t change.
