The Tiger and the Dragon: Act 8, Chapter 4

The Tiger and the Dragon: Act 8, Chapter 4

Chapter 4

“You’re really going to teach me?”

“You make it sound as if you never expected me to hold up my end of our bargain.”

Karuvaki, of course, wasn’t satisfied with a summary of Elder Patli’s operation, so Saraca’s entourage split up to pursue their respective tasks. Devi went to the docks with a handful of guards to start trading her goods while Saraca and Mitra went to a more quiet part of Xoc’s holdings with the young Ocelo female.

They entered a glade created by a dead tree that had been felled by the locals. Roughly half of the tree had already been taken away to be used for one thing or another. The patch of sunlight in the otherwise shadowed understory was filled with opportunistic plants taking advantage of the gap in the canopy. A metre or two beyond the edges of the clearing, two dozen of Saraca’s house guard kept a watchful eye on the surroundings.

“I didn’t know what to think,” Xoc replied.

“Rol’en’gorek is a land bound by strict laws and customs, is it not?”

“It is,” Xoc admitted, “but those are big laws. Agreements between clans. Punishment for major crimes and breaking taboos.”

Saraca didn’t look at her as he paced the perimeter of the clearing.

“Meaning that minor problems are simply ignored?”

“I know that chieftains handle that sort of thing out in the jungle,” Xoc replied, “but it’s not like that in the city. There are the big clans that come here to do big clan things, and then there’s the rest of us.”

“Who lives in those clanhold-looking complexes on top of the largest hills around the city?”

“Those are where members of the warrior clans stay when they come to visit.”

“But what about law enforcement and the general maintenance of order? Who runs the city, so to speak?”

“The big warrior clans make sure that the big rules are followed,” Xoc told him, “plus anything that happens right in front of their faces, I guess. Everything else just sorts itself out.”

『I don’t know why you insist on being so dense, ji. I told you about this when we got here, right?』

He stopped pacing and turned to look at Mitra. His wife was preoccupied with watching the cloud of colourful butterflies that gathered over the flowering plants in the glade.

『You did, but this is the first time we’ve really seen it in depth. The other cities are primarily composed of the presiding clan’s members.』

Saraca turned his attention to Xoc, stepping several metres into the clearing.

“Well, enough about that for now,” he said. “I already have a good idea about your martial background, but let’s see how you do against a properly trained warrior.”

The young Ocelo looked around at the members of Saraca’s house guard.

“Er, not them,” Saraca said. “Me.”

“You?”

“You wanted to learn how to fight bigger opponents, yes? I’m the biggest one around.”

Saraca lowered himself into a neutral stance, gesturing for Xoc to approach. She hesitated for several moments. Saraca was nearly a metre taller than Xoc, and likely three times the weight. He waited patiently, and she eventually gained the courage to pad forward.

Her light steps transformed into a sudden burst of speed. She came in low, aiming a swipe at his thigh. Saraca shifted back a half step. Rather than attempting to extend her measure, she immediately disengaged.

“Very good,” Saraca nodded in approval. “You avoided a mistake that I expect many of those pit fighters would have made.”

“I-I did? I didn’t feel safe so I just pulled out.”

“A warrior’s intuition is usually superior to their active thoughts. But that intuition only goes so far as it is trained. It is only when one learns to harness intuition, exercise discipline, and seamlessly apply thought that one can be considered a true warrior. One who purely relies on intuition is merely an animal. One who thinks too much is meat.”

“Um, where am I on that scale?”

“You are wherever you are,” Saraca replied. “It’s not a fixed thing. Influences both internal and external always affect the balance, and the best balance always adjusts to the situation. Now, attack again.”

Xoc didn’t hesitate when he beckoned. She circled him warily before darting in to strike at his flank.

Saraca shifted to face her. His right paw came down to intercept her head and she blurred to the side. Xoc’s Evasion brought her straight into his left paw. She flew two metres and went rolling through the flowers, sending petals and puffs of pollen into the streams of afternoon light.

The young Ocelo wobbled unsteadily to her feet, shaking her head several times.

“How...how did you know what to do?” She slurred.

“You are not a reckless attacker,” he said. “When you switch to offence, you’ve already determined an avenue to safety should things go awry. In that particular exchange, Evasion would have only brought you to safety if used in two directions. One of them is generally unthinkable to those on the offence, so I prepared a counter for the remaining option.”

“What was the unthinkable option?”

“Backwards.”

Xoc’s jaw fell open slightly. Saraca grinned.

“Embracing your nature has brought you far,” he said, “but that nature can also be exploited.”

“I won’t be able to touch you at this rate,” Xoc said. “What would you do in my place?”

“Throw something.”

The Ocelo picked up a rock and threw it. He deflected it to the side. Xoc levelled a flat stare at him.

“It didn’t work.”

“Not against me, but it might have against a warrior more on your level. The fundamental issue you face is one of mass and measure. As you are, if you successfully strike, say, Rolo the Red, you will draw blood. If she gets her claws in you, you’re pretty much done. Her superior reach makes it that much easier, and you have to work ten times harder than her to come out on top.”

“I know that already,” Xoc told him, “but I haven’t figured out how to beat it.”

“You’ll be afforded some leeway as you get stronger,” Saraca said. “The gap between small and large combatants shrinks the more powerful they get. To cover what remains, most focus on improving their measure or enhancing their defences to the degree that they can efficiently trade blows. Smaller races like Goblins and Dwarves are excellent subjects to observe on that front.”

“What’s a ‘Dwarve’?”

“Erm, a Dwarf is basically a shorter, stockier Human. They’re usually tougher.”

“I’ve never seen a Human before.”

“Humans are like monkeys without tails. Anyway, warriors of those races either use projectiles or long weapons to compensate for their lack of reach. That reach can grow to two or three metres, which puts Beastmen using their natural weapons at a disadvantage. You don’t have to be a Goblin, Dwarf or Human to employ that concept, however.”

Saraca strolled over to the fallen tree in the middle of the glade, stopping about three metres away. He extended an arm towards the dried trunk, waving his claws around.

“I can’t reach this, right?”

“Right.”

He took another swing. Four metre-long furrows appeared in the dead wood. Xoc’s eyes widened and she pointed a claw excitedly.

“No,” Mitra said, “that’s just him. What he means to say is that what you’re doing is going to give you a lot of food, so you’re probably going to need to defend your holdings from people who still only think in terms of raiding. Or worse.”

“What could be worse than getting raided?”

“People resist change. Especially those who believe that they stand to lose from it. All of those people ranching out in the jungle will feel threatened by your new techniques, as will the clans that they pay tribute to.”

The Ocelo visibly struggled with the idea that others might do that. As young as she was, a bit of naïveté might be expected, but the world wouldn’t be so kind as to accommodate it. If one wished for peace, one needed to prepare for war. In the case of a Lord, it was not only warfare of the martial sort.

“But...but it’s not as if we’re keeping our techniques to ourselves,” Xoc said. “Anyone that comes to learn can learn. Little gardens like ours are popping up all over the city. Everyone benefits from this, right?”

“The world would be a very different place if it was so reasonable,” Mitra replied. “We’re not saying that everyone will react the same way, but it will happen in some form eventually. It’s as Saraca said, right? What a Lord believes may not necessarily be a beneficial thing. In this case, it extends to everyone. They will act to preserve the status quo because maintaining the status quo means maintaining their livelihoods. Those actions may mean your destruction. If you wish to protect what you are creating here, then you must be prepared to fight for it.”

“We can’t fight!” Xoc said, “Not a warrior clan! I know I said we were a warrior clan once, but that’s not the same as being an active warrior clan today. They’ll tear us apart like we’re nothing!”

“That may be the case right now,” Saraca said, “but possibly not in the future. From what I can tell, you are shrewd enough to know how to avoid unnecessary risks. If you apply that shrewdness to your leadership, you will find that you can achieve much without drawing the wrong sort of attention – possibly enough to deter even the warrior clans.”

Xoc’s lack of disbelief over the idea of the warrior clans quashing her people’s work was a clear indicator of the type of suppression that Karuvaki suggested on their arrival. Living under the ruling elite was often like that: nails that stuck out got hammered. Without official recognition as a clan by Rol’en’gorek’s presiding council, political avenues to preserve their fledgling industry were likely closed.

The most expedient course for Xoc and her people was to simply become a de facto power that couldn’t be brushed aside, and Saraca believed that they could do it.

“So,” Saraca asked. “Now that I’ve laid things out for you, what is your decision? Will you back down from your course? Remain as prey? Or will you fight to secure your holdings?”

“This got waaaay more serious than I expected it to,” Xoc scratched her ear. “I have one question, though...”

“What is it?”

“Why are you doing this? You’re not even from our country. What do you get from helping me?”

Saraca raised a paw to slowly stroke his jowls, looking straight into Xoc’s amber eyes.

“To plant a seed, perhaps. There are many things that I know I shouldn’t do, but there are also things that I know I must do. The people of Rol’en’gorek suffered a devastating calamity two centuries ago, and they effectively lost everything that they were. What has risen out of the ashes...I suppose ‘heartbreaking’ would be the closest feeling that can describe it. Seeing what I have seen, I can already imagine what was once here. That means I also have an idea of how far your society has devolved.”

“You mean to say that you pity us.”

“If it was merely pity, then I would simply do nothing but pity you and your people. What spurred me to act was not the past, but the present. It was you.”

“Me?”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” Saraca said, “but I believe you’ll be instrumental to the development of Rol’en’gorek as a civilisation. If I left you to your fate, however, you would be facing a dark future indeed. Instead, I would rather see you as an agent for positive change. It is an opportunity that may not come again for centuries.”

“So...so you’re not after my body.”

“No.”

“Um, well, I wouldn’t mind if I had a strong–”

Mitra grabbed Xoc by the scruff of the neck and casually tossed her out of the glade.

“Rejected.”

“Mitra...”

“The harem has spoken,” Mitra replied in an officious tone.

“What I meant was that you didn’t have to throw her.”

“Gotta lay down the law. You’re just too soft when it comes to females, ji.”

Saraca shook his head as they waited for the Ocelo girl to come back.

“So,” Xoc brushed off her coat, “you’re teaching me how to fight because you want me to be able to defend my clan.”

“I don’t have decades to teach you, so I can only really point you in the right direction. But I’m sure even that is enough to overcome opponents like Rolo the Red. From what I’ve seen, the average member of the warrior clans keeping order in the city is about as powerful as she is, so that means you’d be able to handle any official goons that come your way. Not that drawing attention to yourself like that is a good idea right now.”

“But I can’t defend everything on my own,” Xoc told him. “If a group of guards comes after me, I’m done for.”

“You won’t be on your own,” Saraca replied. “You have your clan.”

“Uh, my ‘clan’ is busy. They have to eat and all that.”

“I told you before: what you are doing here is, in essence, freeing up time. In terms of natural behaviour, when a period of plenty comes upon a tribe, they will tend to multiply. Then the population shrinks when that period of plenty ends, splitting off into migrations or being lost in tribal warfare. In an urban economy, however, having a bunch of cubs is not the only answer to excess resources. You can exchange your excess resources for goods and services, effectively buying time to focus on your pursuits.”

“So I’ll have a bunch of people with free time to help guard our stuff...”

“Er...that’s not quite what I was getting at. There is something to be said about having a lot of people around, but that won’t help you if a warband comes along. You need warriors to fight warriors.”

“But I don’t have any warriors. I can’t just randomly pick up people and say ‘you’re a warrior, now!’ I can’t pay them, either.”

“It’s good that you at least recognise the issues,” Saraca said. “This is probably the biggest obstacle you have right now. Your clan has decentralised entirely – become a non-entity, if you will. Fortunately, it seems that you still have a loose sense of shared identity, plus you have some followers due to what you’ve done so far. Additionally, you’re the only investor in Elder Patli’s agricultural venture, which should entitle you to a portion of his profits.”

How Xoc had already laid the groundwork for everything was a fascinating study in itself. Without any formal education or foreknowledge of what was happening, she had unintentionally acted to secure the economic and political backing required to rebuild her clan.

“But he doesn’t profit off of it,” Xoc told him. “The sales of Nug fodder go to help families in need.”

“Charity is all well and good,” Saraca said. “But aimless charity does nothing to alleviate the fundamental issues facing your people, nor will it prepare you for the future. Thankful civilians will not protect the fungus farm from raids or worse. Well, they can try but I’m sure you know that it won’t be pretty and it will ultimately be ineffective.”

“I don’t know how Elder Patli will feel if I start demanding stuff...”

“The instinct to nurture and protect is something you have to tame and harness,” Saraca said. “It’s especially strong in benevolent Lords. Right now, the abstract notion that you’re helping your people is overriding what needs to be done. You have limited time and resources to rebuild and properly organise your clan.”

“And what do I have to do to ‘properly organise’ my clan?”

“Well, the specific details are better left to you, but, broadly speaking, you need to train and rebuild the warrior caste and sort out the other castes according to the new realities brought about by your revolutionary industry. It will be a very delicate balancing act where you need to grow your power, forge alliances and avoid the wrong sort of attention.”

『The way you put it is a bit exciting. I sort of wish I could stick around and chronicle this.』

『We can always check in from time to time now that we’ve covered this ground.』

“I think I get what you’re trying to say,” Xoc rubbed her neck, “but I don’t know if I can do all of that...”

“It’s a challenge, to be sure,” Saraca nodded. “I’m sure you’ll eventually figure it out. You’ll make mistakes and there will be a lot of uncertainty, but that’s life.”

“And don’t try to go it alone,” Mitra said. “I don’t know if Ocelo are solitary hunter types, but you should learn how to rely on the people you trust. Uh, make sure they’re trustworthy first.”

Xoc let out a long sigh.

“Why does it feel like the weight of the world is suddenly on my shoulders?” She asked, “I never asked for any of this. I just wanted to help out a bit.”

“That’s often how it works,” Saraca replied. “History’s great figures usually never ask for everything that happens to them.”