Mountainous Regions - Munde Province
A bear of a man wearing heavy winter clothing with long black hair shot with gray and displaying a fastidiously shaped beard were shot with gray. The beard only served to highlight an ugly, long scar on his left cheek. His deep set brown eyes peered into the vast darkness, imagining the line of massive, tall mountains covered in snow and blue ice. These mountains were in a crescent formation, surrounding the valley on three sides. They were one of the highest snow-covered mountain groups in New Krypton. Between the inhospitable weather and forbidding mountain range, this location was the perfect defense and disguise for the rebel leader’s underground base of operation, which was buried one mile deep into New Krypton’s crust.
Originally, his current rebel headquarters had been part of a failed attempt to locate and mine much needed ore to create metals. That bitter disappointment had provided two things for Nor: people avoided the area, and it was hidden from aerial surveillance. It pleased him that such a hive of activity came from a failure of Akar-Ar’s family.
Nor looked high above his head, as the dual luminaries of night stood in silent witness to the grim task ahead. The cover of darkness was the ideal time for striking back at one’s unsuspecting quarry. A tiny smile of anticipation came to his lips as the sounds of assault and procurement teams preparing to conduct a raid on the Ur Collective in Qar Province rang out around him.
The supplies were much needed to feed his troops and other followers. Personnel had to be fed and sheltered, as well as clothed in proper gear. Normally, he didn’t bother to participate in such trivialities, but this particular raid would be sweet and serve a two-fold purpose. It would alert all of New Krypton that he was unstoppable, and that any who turned their backs on him, and his cause should expect only dire retribution.
At one time Mar-Ur had been an ally in the Council, but now he sided with Polara and the other weaklings who wanted to change Kryptonians into a people he did not recognize or wanted to be part of. Attacking and stripping the Ur Collective clean would be a fitting reward for his fickle conduct.
Retribution. The word brought back memories of a long-dead world. There his aristocratic, landed family was wealthy, respected and feared. His father always said his great, great, great grandfather, Ven-Il the greatest elder and warrior of their house, should have been granted the position of First Lord, not the ancestor of House of El. Centuries back they lost that chance on the strength of one vote when the original Council of Lords and Elders was formed. It was a defeat his ancestor never got over, and that corrosive resentment was passed down through the generations.
He remembered his father Zay-Il holding magnificent banquets on their estate. Their home was filled with members of the ruling class who quietly were of the same mind. Zay-Il was determined to consolidate a power block of like-minded men. He watched as his father skillfully brought others to his cause, like an artist using specific paints and brushstrokes to create a masterpiece. In those days he had been a spoiled, even foppish youth, but after his father persuasively outlined his long term plans for the elevation of the House of Il, Nor put aside the ways of youth and worked tirelessly with his sire for their success.
On warm nights when the flagons of spicy wine were quaffed and skilled musicians played favored selections of music, rebellious talks of the future were held between his father, Elder Zim-Tal, and Lord Os-Rey. One of the plans to emerge from those discussions was the marriage alliance between himself and Os-Rey’s daughter, Nydis. It was thought that such an arrangement would draw the two houses closer together, especially if she bore Nor-Il a son.
Their plans ended abruptly when Krypton was destroyed. His father had died on their home world in a last determined attempt to satisfy his ambition of rulership. When he confronted Jor-El’s heir, he would tell him how his parents died.
His bondmate, Nydis, a sullen female, more interested in drawing pictures than being a wife, was not a loving or helpful companion. Their marriage bed was frigid, and the union bore no fruit. Happily, she had been one of the first to die of the mysterious atmospheric sickness, as well as most of her misbegotten family.
He never pursued another bondmate, preferring to avoid such entanglements. Of course, he had still taken lovers. Some of them were as capable as a lord’s wife. By design none of them had become pregnant. Such offspring were halflings and would not be useful in forming alliances with other houses.
In his mind, marriage was a tool to be used for advancement of power and status, nothing more. He planned on waiting for Lady Zara to be of age and then he would demand to take her as a wife.
In the meantime, he focused his considerable energies on building an estate worthy of the one that was lost. The work of clearing land, sowing seed, and training sufficient workers to replace the ones that had died during the sickness had been both crushing but satisfying. Later came grueling disappointments when whole fields of crops had died because the soil was not the proper chemical composition to grow Kryptonian plants. It took five moon cycles of intense experimentation until that combination was found and implemented. During that time, Nor subtly influenced others both in and out of the council that since Zor-El was now a cripple, and with his son's death there were no male heirs to the house of El, perhaps it was time Polara be removed from her position and a male take the leadership role. Nor chuckled darkly thinking about the council. This Splinter War, the gathering of fighters to his cause and the vast underground base had been in the works for years, had been designed and set into motion right under their noses.
Once this stage had been set, it gave him the support to demand during a council session that Polara put aside the bonding contract between Zara and the absent Kal-El, thus allowing him a clear path to rulership.
His brow furrowed as he thought about the regent leader of the council. He had greatly underestimated Polara. She had quietly anticipated his move to annul Zara and Kal-El’s bonding contract. For three moon cycles she had had engineers working to restore and update the Black Wind for interstellar travel. Up until that time all space-worthy vessels had remained in orbit, as they had been stripped of their metals, which were repurposed for building materials. All except BlackWind and her sister vessels: the Limerick Claw, and the Countermeasures were maintained, and then re-commissioned, such ships were necessary to explore their solar system.
It was during that fateful meeting in which Nor had made his bid for power that the scheming Polara delivered her own master stroke. She had sent that fool Trey, along with Zara and her ubiquitous bodyguard running off to Terra to fetch Jor-El’s whelp. Under the premise that they should use their recently reacquired interstellar travel. Polara had convinced the Council to restore Jor-El’s heir to his rightful duties and have Zara take her place by his side.
A low growl escaped Nor’s throat. By sending Zara off planet, his secondary plan of carrying out an abduction and forcing Zara into marriage with him on the Il Collective had become impossible. It was at this junction that he had broken publicly with the Council of Lords and Elders.
It was a council meeting they would not soon forget.
He would make sure of it.
***
Upon hearing the announcement to fetch the prodigal Kal-El, Nor had argued venomously with Polara, accusing her of tricking the Council into paying for the BlackWind’s refit simply to bring her grandson home.
Turning to the assembled throng he had cried out, “Why, my Lords and Elders, should we send for a man who is ignorant of our ways? To be ruled by an outworlder is unsuitable. Are there no other men of noble houses who wish to take the Lady Zara as a wife?”
A low murmur of discussion filled the room, but before it could erupt into loud disagreements, Lady Polara Lo’s clear, even voice cut through the rattle and hum.
Cool gray eyes bored into him when she asked cooly, “Pray my Lord Nor-Il, whom would you have the Lady Zara bond with if not my grandson?”
He stood, and without a moment’s hesitation responded, “To me.”
The very air in the spacious council chamber became still as Lady Lo leaned back in her chair, placed elbows on the armrests and delicately steepled her fingers together. At that moment, she looked more warrior than lady, ready to slice Nor-Il in two.
“What factors place you in such an esteemed position?” Her words were as sharp and clean as the freshly honed Sword of Lo, which rested on her side.
Nor-Il’s next words were spoken carefully. It had been many a moonround since the last time this woman had lost control and that person still held the scars of combat. Perfectly detailed plans were already in motion, and he had no wish to upset them because of crossing swords with her …yet.
He shrugged as if the question was a waste of time and then said, “First, I am of noble lineage stretching back to the First Council. Second, my collective was the first to rebound after the atmospheric sickness that took nearly ten percent of New Krypton’s general population. We all remember the chaos of those days. It takes a firm hand and level head to guide frightened people to work as a unit for the best results.”
Several of the older men nodded and spoke in agreement. They were all too well aware of that time when atmospheric sickness combined with years of failed crops forced the population of New Krypton to nearly face death by starvation.
Ken-Ja broke in. “If memory serves me correctly, I believe Abondar-El, Lord Zor-El’s estate, was the first to recover. At the time, he was the First Lord…”
Nor-Il turned on him and snapped. “That was an estate. It is much smaller than a collective. Due to Zor-El’s unfortunate illness, he is no longer a contributing part of this council’s discussions.”
Lady Lo nodded to Ken-Ja in mute acknowledgment of his words and then said to Nor, “Your third reason?”
Nor-Il drew the robes of office around himself and said, “The house of Il was the second choice during the first meeting of this august body. On the strength of that alone, I demand the Lady Zara’s hand as my bondmate!”
Polara placed her hands flat on the table and spoke, “My lord, are you certain those are the only reasons?”
Nor leaned forward, stared down at her and smiled like a dangerous reptile moving in on its prey. “My Lady Lo, it is past time for you to step down and enjoy your twilight years. Allow a nobleman to lead New Krypton into the future.” No one missed his emphasis on the word ‘man’.
The great hall was engulfed in silence. Such a statement was an insult. In the beginning, of her regency, many of the traditional Councilors, including Akak-Ar, and Trey had resented Lady Lo’s elevation as Council head. But over time, and with Zor-El’s assistance behind the scenes she had proven more than capable of the considerable task of guiding New Krypton’s people. In so doing she had won over many skeptics.
Jen-Mai spoke up, trying to be the voice of reason in what was rapidly becoming a volatile situation. “Perhaps after the lady Zara returns from her …errand we can discuss the matter further?”
Polara’s right hand went from the table to lay confidently on her sword’s hilt she said firmly, “Upon my grandson’s return to New Krypton he shall wed Zara and rule. I will not relinquish the regency until then. To do otherwise would deny him the right to rule by ancient decree. That cannot be allowed.”
“No! I will not be thwarted again by this woman’s …biased agenda! Order the Black Wind home or face the consequences. The provinces of New Krypton will be reduced to splinters! I break with this council once and for all!”
***
He remembered taking pleasure in seeing their shocked and angry expressions. Only Polara had seemed calm, almost as if she had anticipated these events to unfold in this manner. He strode out the meeting chamber, followed by four Elders who had always been his staunchest supporters in Council, their honor guard trailing in their wake.
Hours later, he had heard that the crafty Polara had put it to a vote that the House of Il be removed from the ranks of the aristocracy. He would repay the gesture with her only grandchild's blood.
Now Polara’s grandson walked the planet, appearing in collectives to volunteer aid and even participating in battles, protecting the weak. He was making himself popular with the common folk. Worse still, he was turning even crusty traditionists like old Akak-Ar to his side. It was something not to be born.
The very presence of the man was galling. This newcomer who wanted to rule. Nor was a worthy aristocrat, he had a right to rule through the sweat of his brow and blood shed to make his personal estate and other land holdings prosperous. The boy was a mere outsider, wholly ignorant of Kryptonian ways. The Terran-raised son of Jor-El had actually put off marrying Zara on the spurious excuse that she was needed as pilot rather than take on her duties as his bondmate. Incredible! Did the boy not fully comprehend what was at stake?
It mattered not, though, since Nor had plans to put an end to his influence. Best of all he would use ancient Kryptonian tradition to do it! He only needed to get near him to put that plan into motion.
Once the so called “Splinter War” was won, Zara would be his bride and eventually, the young woman would bear him the heirs needed to carry his house to lasting eminence. Subsequently, his other plans, originally formulated by his father, would take shape; first to abolish the Council of Lords and Elders; second, to strip any holdings and collectives that were run by women and upstarts, and third, to present those well-tended properties to his loyal supporters.
Finally, and most important of all, the title of First Lord would be changed to Overlord. Thus it would be Nor that satisfied the House of Il’s generations-long ago desire. Only then could Kryptonians return to their forgotten glory and embrace the true path.
Reflecting upon his plans and memories, Nor’s powerful hands curled tightly as if holding a sword. Despite all the advantages civilization on New Krypton had to offer, battle and the pursuit of power was Nor’s chief delight. He was a relic, a stark reminder of Krypton’s darker, wilder epoch.
A voice broke into his thoughts. “My Lord Nor, all ten air ships are ready and fully manned!”
Turning, Nor gave the soldier, a toothy grin and clapped the fellow hard on the back. A stocky man with close shaven brown hair, the fighter wore similar clothing to his Lord and appeared eager to launch into the skies. “Good, Taz-Al! We shall attack the Ur Collective hard and fast. Inform Oya-Ti he will pilot the lead assault craft. I am eager to see how those new acquired Vipers handle themselves in real combat. He should fire ground incendiaries to burn whatever crops we don’t get. But do not harm the vineyards! Mar-Ur’s ice wines are highly prized, a triumph of Old Krypton and must be protected… even cherished. Upon our return, the cooks will prepare a magnificent feast worthy of victorious warriors! Come, let us depart. I know all of those truly loyal to the House of Il are eager for this raid and look forward to a sumptuous banquet!”
Harsh barks of laughter and grunts of agreement were heard within the depths of the ship as they strapped themselves in. Some of Nor’s recruits were former, disgruntled members of the Sapphire Guardians. They were restless and ready to let loose days of pent-up tension. They were doubly eager to attack because of promises of wine, good food and the chance for glory earned in battle. Their regular fare was decent, but monotonous -- and every leader knew that a contented and effective army needed to be well-fed. After this raid, Nor was certain the supply rooms would be full to bursting with more than just simple grain. Brandishing a fierce smile, Nor climbed up the ramp and joined his men.
Last edited by Morgana; 11/08/24 02:23 PM.
