Duty, Honor or Death the Corps Sticks by Ronald Wintrick

Author:Ronald Wintrick [Wintrick, Ronald]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General Fiction
ISBN: 2940012374783
Goodreads: 12123975
Publisher: Ronald Edwin Wintrick
Published: 2011-03-28T17:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

Jarlaxle Accor, King of the Tarovan, motioned his men and women to silence/immobility in the silent battle language hand signs of his people. The order was relayed instantly back through the ranks, and obeyed accurately and instantly. The large group acted as one. They were all well trained. They were all professionals.

Such order was amazing among so many hundreds spread out so far throughout the forest. Their discipline was ingrained in the very fibers of their muscles, put there through thousands of hours of training, from early childhood on. They came in search of the ship. The ship which had come down three nights previously.

Jarlaxle Accor knew they were not close yet, but he had not expected to take possession of it without resistance, either from the Outsiders themselves, or other competing Warlords, if any could overcome their stupid superstitions long enough to investigate. Jarlaxle knew a good bit about the Outsiders, because in fact, he had once been one.

Expecting resistance, he was moving his force slowly and carefully into the area. Jarlaxle Accor was no fool.

Jarlaxle Accor did not look like the King of a powerful tribe. He was small and wiry, rat faced with a weak, pointed chin and close set eyes, and not much of the woodsman at all. His skill with weapons, the sword in particular, and his hands and feet however, was unparalleled. He was a master. He was lethal.

When he was a boy on Sarvan, Jarlaxle was much bullied and picked on by the larger stronger children his own age, much to his father's disgust. He had not been genetically endowed with his father's physical attributes, a fact his father would never let him live down.

Angrily his father, a very successful mathematical theoretician employed by the R&D Division of a huge multi-world manufacturing conglomerate, hired a man at arms to teach his son to defend himself.

Jarlaxle was an embarrassment to his father. To a man who had killed several in duels of honor himself. He blamed Jarlaxle's mother for her son's poor physical endowments. He was a hard man.

The man at arms, over a period of long years, did more than merely teach Jarlaxle to defend himself. He turned a weak, ineffectual boy into a hardened weapon's master of extraordinary skill and prowess. The idealism of the master, however, was not so thoroughly passed along.

Jarlaxle was much like his father in that aspect. He took what he wanted from life and discarded the rest. The man at arms knew what he produced, but set aside his own idealism in favor of the financial reward. It could be said that the weapons master's idealism wasn't quite as ideal as he may have pretended. He had been very well-paid. It was often how such things worked out.

Jarlaxle became arrogant and unbearable. At age 19, Jarlaxle killed a man with his bare hands in a drunken fit of rage over the attentions of a woman who wanted nothing from him but his Credits, who sought her physical pleasures elsewhere behind Jarlaxle's back.

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