‘They did not die in vain,’ said Judon. ‘The weapons you speak of are almost exhausted. I know that there are less than fifty zhi-bows left among the Avatars.’
He had their full attention now. ‘The tribes represented here can muster forty thousand warriors within the month. The cities could be ours before the first cool wind of autumn. Think of that, my brothers.’
‘Aye, we can think of it,’ said another leader. ‘But I have two questions: firstly, how do you know the strength of their weapons, and secondly where are the Erek-jhip-zhonad? They should be here.’
Judon smiled. ‘I know because I know. I have friends in the five cities. Good friends who are tired of Avatar tyranny. As for the Mud People …’ he spread his fat arms wide. ‘Perhaps they remain in fear of the Blue-hair. I do not speak for them. When we have taken the cities they can come to us on bended knee and beg for scraps from our table.’
‘They have twenty thousand warriors,’ said the first speaker. ‘I do not think they will need to beg. And I, for one, will not commit my soldiers to battle the Avatars without the People of the Stars.’
Judon masked his irritation. The speaker was Rzak Xhen, leader of the Hantu tribe, whose lands bordered those of the Erek-jhip-zhonad. If he were won over he would bring more than 5,000 fighting men with him.
‘My dear Rzak, your caution is commendable. I would also prefer the Mud People to ride with us. But, when we conquer, there will be greater riches without them. Now let us break off and eat. The sun is high and hot, and we can meet again this evening.’
Judon’s huge arms pressed down on the side supports of the black throne. With a monumental effort he heaved his bulk upright and moved back into his tent. Here he lay down on padded cushions.
A slender figure stepped forward from the rear of the tent. His face was youthful, his head covered with the white linen burnous of the Hizhak tribe. He sat down beside Judon. ‘Rzak Xhen is a mouthpiece for the Mud People,’ he said. ‘But I think I know how to sway him.’
‘We should cut his treacherous throat,’ advised Judon.
The young man smiled. ‘Invite him here this evening, before the meeting. I will bring him to our cause.’
‘How will you achieve this miracle?’ asked Judon.
‘As I did with you, my lord.’
‘That is too much!’ objected the king.
‘How badly do you want his help?’
Judon filled a goblet with wine and drained it. ‘Do it, then – but once we have won I’ll want his head.’
Rzak Xhen was a serious man. Left to his own devices he would have worked tirelessly for his Hantu people, increasing their wealth and their prestige, quietly building their strength. Not a man of war, yet he was a fine soldier and strategist, and he was held in great respect by the leaders of minor tribes surrounding Hantu lands. His warriors did not encroach on their territories, and where lesser leaders used sword and spear to dominate their neighbours Rzak Xhen used trade. He had little regard for Judon of the Patiakes. His line was predatory, and inclined to war.
Rzak sat in his tent awaiting the invitation he was sure would come. His eldest son, Hua, sat beside him.
‘He will offer us riches,’ said Hua Xhen. Rzak shook his head.
‘Land. He will promise to increase Hantu lands.’
Hua smiled. ‘Better than gold, father. We could ask for the Griam Valley. That would give us a route to the sea, and better trade.’
Again Rzak shook his head. ‘He will not offer what he himself possesses. He is too greedy to part with anything he already owns. No, he will offer us Avatar land – perhaps one of the five cities.’
‘What will you do?’
‘I will offer to think on it. Then we will go home and prepare our soldiers. When we refuse him he will attack us first.’
‘Why refuse him, father?’
‘Because he is a pig, with a pig’s appetite. He will -ultimately – share nothing.’