***
The expansive procession was visible from the village below the Malihabar manor and further still from atop the hill. The dry season heat had baked the ground long before the Scorching, making travel by large groups impossible to hide. The warrior’s boots and bull hooves kicked up a cloud that nearly engulfed them. Each warrior and porter covered their face with a mask, some coughing regardless.
Only the Elephant at the head was somewhat spared due to its height and being at the front of the column. Still, it was outfitted with small cloth masks over its trunk and mouth. Most natives of the plateau would call the masks over kill, but the column wasn’t from the plateau. They hailed from the swamps to the west, along the coast near the smaller western mountains. Every house there still paid tribute to Malihabar, all except one. The dry air they experienced mixed with dust was as foreign to them as the lands beyond the Rivers.
The first outer patrols from the manor rushed back up the hill to announce the procession's arrival, but Janelsa dismissed them, already knowing exactly who was inside the cloud.
Drawing closer, Muli ordered his banners unfurled, then lounged back under his covered howdah. Despite the soft seats and cotton tarp over him, he somehow seemed exhausted by the whole ordeal.
Three warriors hoisted up the pole which broke off at the bottom for multiple grips. The plush red banners with the yellow elephant symbol of his lands fluttered higher than his mount.
And Janelsa gritted her teeth, digging her nails into the window sill. Janurana was hopping beside her, trying to see what was going on, then hauled herself up to peek over.
“Abbaji!” she screeched and ran out after catching only a glimpse.
Her mother growled and punched the window frame, then joined her.
Muli’s small army slowly plowed through the main street, beating their drums and blasting their flutes as loud as possible as if they weren’t obvious enough. Warriors with capes like the banners fanned out as if preparing to charge, carts ladened with goods raced to catch up behind them, and Muli waved to the common people who came out to watch.
“Gehsek! Let them have it!” He cheerfully called to the older man in the chair behind him, clad in splendid, but simple bronze scales. Gehsek rolled his eyes and stopped brushing dust from his hair, drummed his fingers on the handle of his ax, and relayed the order.
The porters opened their barrels and urns and began tossing out roti and dried meat. The crowd erupted in cheers, momentarily drowning out the instruments and causing the elephant to flinch.
“Did you feed him yet?” Muli chuckled to the driver who forced a chuckle while trying to goad the beast back into place.
The throng swelled and rushed the warriors who did their best to keep them back.
“There’s enough for everyone!” Muli yelled out. “And a prize in each!”
Stuffed inside every piece of food was a single cowrie, which only made the crowd more unruly. Regardless, Muli’s procession made it to the foot of the hill and his warriors circled to get behind the carts and better manage the crowd with the hill to their backs. The elephant bolted up the hill, almost knocking Muli, Gehsek, and the driver off it, but it calmed as the distance grew between it and the people.
“Abbaji, Abbaji, Abbaji!” Janurana hopped up and down next to the beast’s legs, oblivious to the few snorts it gave telling her to step back.
Janelsa snatched her arm and yanked her away. But surrounded by the flowers of the manor’s garden, the elephant was quickly soothed. Servants held the manor’s door open for him, others fanned out and waited to attend to any of his things.
For an awkward moment, nothing happened. Muli sat motionless and everyone exchanged a look, except Janurana who kept calling out obnoxiously.
“Oh, is no one going to offer me the ladder?” Muli chuckled and leaned back to push Gehsek. “Come on, getting old now, eh?? Don’t forget now!”
Gehsek nodded slowly and unfurled the rope ladder, eyeing the golden headdress that his Lord never removed, yet it seemed as light as wood rather than as heavy as gold or bronze. Muli descended slowly, half faking some trouble and half covering for it with exaggeration. His stomach got in the way as the ladder curled around the elephant’s chest. Janurana laughed at her father’s silliness, but Janelsa just crossed her arms.
“My! It’s almost as big as me now!” He tapped its tree sized legs, then caught Janurana and lifted her as high as he could. “How’s my little kumari??”
“Good!”
“I bet you are! How’s mommy? Still grumpy?”
Janurana turned to her mother, her smile crashing to a moment of fear, but then she beamed again and bounced in her father’s arms. “Yeah! She was yelling!”
“Oh?”
Janelsa tapped her foot. “Taking emissaries. As you should have sent.”
“And you should have brought out some stairs for me. Oh, my back! Janelsa, mother of my kumari, how could you hurt me so?”
Janurana gasped. “Mother!”
Janelsa sucked her teeth and picked at her cuticles.
“I suppose I’ll let you off today, my sweet Janelsa. Next time though, I expect a better welcome,” he scolded her, waggling his finger, and Janurana copied him.
***
Muli sipped his water, tending the fire as Janelsa at on the side of her bed and stroked Janurana’s hair. She was completely tuckered out from the entire day with her father running back and forth, finding him as he hid badly, even taking a ride on the elephant and feeding it. Both her parents knew even it couldn’t wake her up now as she was perfectly curled under Janelsa’s plush blue sheets. The whole of her personal chambers were just as comfortable. Her mound of pillows was replicated throughout with multiple serving tables and a tub with urns of water ready to be heated for a bath. Everything was brimming with color, covered with murals of her greatness, or her sigil. Everything except a small desk and simple stool. Her well–worn reed wedge for marking tablets was whittled down and molded to her fingers' exact shape. It was opposite the horned bronze helm and imported family ax with rounded half moon blades which were both kept immaculate.
“Did you have to make such an entrance?” she asked.
“Just wanted to remind you.”
“You do every time I see you. You won, I get it already.”
“The only one who—”
“Muli. Please.” Janelsa’s voice softened. Why are you here?”
He downed his water and chuckled, dropping his prodding tone and speaking as sincerely as her. “Can’t I want to see my daughter?”
Janelsa cocked her brow.
“I heard you were having some trouble with the northerners. I figured I’d see if I could offer some help.”
“How kind of you.” She held out her hand and Muli obliged, pouring her a cup. “But the situation was resolved. The monkeys—”
“Macaques,” he corrected.
“Whatever. They couldn’t do what they promised and did not impress. I’ll be changing the leadership there to someone who can actually find my tithes.”
“Mm-hmm. You think it’s wise to begin prodding that hornet’s nest so soon after beating them? I hear northerners hold grudges for quite some time.” He tucked Janurana in further as she rolled over away from her mother.
“Then I’ll defeat them once more. I can use a Light follower or two. Plenty want the chance to prove their Light is stronger than the spirits of the North again.”
“If you say so. Plenty I met seemed perfectly fine to just proselytize.”
“Do I come to your lands just to berate your decisions?”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“Yes. Then you call it negotiating trade tariffs. And besides, I came here to see my kumari.”
“Muli…” Janelsa groaned and squeezed her cup, then remembered it had something inside and downed it in a gulp. She nibbled on some naan.
“Oh. Janelsa. My name rests on roses when it falls from your divine tongue.” He bowed, and held his wooden headdress up.
Janelsa helped with a single disgusted finger, then pushed him back. “Why the wood?”
“It’s lighter.”
She tried not to chuckle, then sighed. “Stop evading.”
“Like how I evaded your army in my swamps?”
“Yes. You did that. Congratulations. You beat me. Want me to bed you again and make another worthy heir?”
“Couldn’t hurt.” He shrugged.
Janelsa pinched her nose so hard it almost broke the skin to stop her chuckling.
“Can’t I just want to stroll on in and remind you who’s the stronger one?” Muli scooted closer, smirking.
“Enough. Please,” she said sincerely again, her burgeoning chuckling giving way to annoyance.
Muli’s smile faded. “Ok. I’ve heard a lot of rumblings from further south. Around the rivers.” He looked to Janelsa, who nodded in agreement. “Apparently they’re changing.”
“Places change, new rulers.” She shrugged.
“No. The rivers themselves. They seem to be moving, drying up.”
“It’s not my business.”
“It certainly is. Just as it is mine.”
“Why? Who cares?”
“Because if they fail, that might mean less trade and, oh, right, an army sweeping up from the south with nowhere to go, hungry, homeless, and desperate.”
“They have the Valley next door.” Janelsa poured her own water.
“And how long until they’re pushed out? If the River people take the Valley, then where will the Valley people go?”
Janelsa swirled her drink.
“It will be much more than my force here which could just walk into your city.”
“Please.” She scoffed. “They’d have to get through my whole plateau first. I’m not an idiot, Muli. Why do you think I put my manor this far south away from them?”
“So, you could provoke the northern clans and have them box you in?”
Janelsa threw an accusatory finger in his face, then took it away. “Uttarans respect that kind of power play. If any of those fools from the homelands want to kill me, they’ll have to go through my vassals first.”
“The ones you’ve been taxing just like the northern clans? Janelsa, you sit on a pile of pillows and sleep with the most attractive men while right outside your manor people are beating each other for some bread and a single cowrie. You have your warriors, but your vassals are much more accustomed to their wealth and still aren’t happy about losing to you.”
“They’re fine.”
Muli put his chin on his hand and blinked slowly. “Just like how you’re fine that I beat you?”
She got up and faced away from him, staring out over the flat plains she ruled. The rings of bonfires burned as a perfect wall and she could observe how her warriors dealt with the Outside creatures that tested her strength.
“Janelsa,” he sighed and groaned as he stood, which made her flinch.
“What?”
“You’re a foreigner here. Your family was evicted from the rivers—”
“We left.”
“You were evicted. You don’t know how we think beyond the battlefield. The governors here like their wealth. I’m the only real exception.” He tapped his crown. “I know the rivers were more… Egalitarian. But here, the best way to make enemies is to take a noble’s comfort or betray a northern clan, at least one of the jungle ones. Yes, might makes right many times, but if what I’m hearing is true, then you’re only making things much, much more dangerous for yourself. Lighten some of your tithe demands and give your chosen northerners concessions. Build defenses.”
“You hear rumors and want me to invest in walls and outposts? Rethink my entire taxation system and relationships with my vassals? What if I do so? They hate me and I should show weakness? If I were my vassals I would attack as the fortifications were going up because soon it would be harder. It would be the only chance. They failed against me before and their assassins died where you sit. If you’re wrong, I get attacked and the north senses weakness.”
“And if you’re wrong you get swept over by a new army which may even convince the other houses to join. At least provoking those you have defeated is provoking those you have already defeated. You have nothing to lose believing me, Janelsa. As strong as your house is, you can’t stand up to the whole of the rivers and possible traitors on your own. Leave something for Janurana to have.”
Janelsa bristled like a boar. “You think I’m leaving her nothing?!” She spun with the ferocity of her house’s sigil then calmed when Muli crossed his arms with an ‘I told you so’ look. She shook her head, remembering how she had been goaded into traps before or been too confident to realize she was alienating allies. “Alright. Thank you for bringing me this information. It corroborates what I’ve heard as well. My warriors, vassals and the traders have informed me of such. But I didn’t conquer this plateau by accident, Muli. There’s a reason you were the fluke.”
“That’s not what you called me—”
“Please. Muli. That’s enough. You’ve made your point. I know I can have a temper.” She fussed with her muga right where a parasol would be held in front of her thighs. Muli relented to let her continue. “As I said, my manor being so far south was no mistake either. I thought the Rivers might one day want to take what I’ve conquered. Jealous and want our house’s riches back. But that is part of why I have placed myself so far south. Yes, my tithes are high, but I have decided that angering the governors now and showing my power over them is better than letting them recover their strength. Even if I cannot count on my vassal’s support, my warriors are loyal and I can command the plains better than any of them. Let my vassals slow the rivers down, and even if they break through or join the enemy all I need do is place a canyon between us. I’ve broken this plateau before and can do so again. Besides, I have at least one ally. And he is,” she swallowed her pride, “quite the tactician.”
“I certainly am,” Muli said, his smirk returning and he stroked his magnificent beard.
“Another heir would just make Janurana’s throne more precarious.” Janelsa didn’t turn away.
“Well, I tried.” Muli chuckled. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve also heard rumors that the ruler of the rivers, the one who runs… what city was it?”
“Harrap. We didn’t have a Maharaj, the ruler of Harrap just commanded more respect. Either way, what about Hegwous?” Janelsa turned away.
“The people are unhappy with his commands. Cities disobey him. Isn’t that nice, eh?”
“He’s an old man by now,” Janelsa smirked and turned back. “I’m sure he’s become old and senile.”
Gehsek peeked through the cloth doorway, brown cotton and a white bull sigil. “My Lord?”
“Yes, Gehsek?” Muli slowly blinked as if his commander would see.
“Do you intend to hand out more gifts, my Lord? The porters have counted. We would require more.”
Janelsa sneered. “On what authority did you feel you could simply stroll into my chambers?”
“You have no guards to tell me otherwise, Maharaj Janelsa Malihabar. Forgive me.” Gehsek bowed.
Muli looked between the two, seeing Janelsa’s temper rising at his less than supplicant tone and Gehsek rising prematurely from his bow. “To be fair, my sweet, you don’t have guards outside your chambers.”
“I don’t need them,” she seethed.
Muli stuttered as her rage turned to him. “And I do let Gehsek maintain quite a few freedoms to address me as need be. Quite informal, aren’t we, Gehsek?”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“See? Brothers! You understand, such rigid formalities can keep us bound. What if an attack comes but he must ask permission to see me??” Muli gasped and then put a hand to his forehead. “Perish the thought.”
Janelsa sighed, her temper fading with his ridiculousness, and waved them both off to return to her daughter who hadn’t stirred. “Speak then.”
“Thank you. How much do we have?” Muli asked.
“About a quarter left.” Gehsek squeezed his ax head.
“Oh, that’s not much at all, is it?”
“No, my Lord.”
“How many warriors do you have in this manor, Janelsa?”
“More than how much roti you ha—Wait, no. I won’t take your scraps and neither will my warriors.”
“I suppose. I am sorry my pressession may have done some damage politically.” Muli bowed but not overly.
Janelsa pursed her lips, then rolled her eyes.
“Our houses are one now.” Janelsa gave Janurana a kiss on the forehead, which made her daughter snatch up her hand for cuddles. Resigned to her new life on this bed, Janelsa smiled. “Perhaps I can give these gifts to the nobles here, ensure some loyalty?”
“I doubt they would care for fruit and a single cowrie, my Lords.” Gehsek added. His cape was much larger than the other warriors they had brought.
“Speak for yourselves!” Muli chuckled, then shrugged. “A conundrum.”
“Leave us, Gehsek. We will call for you if needed,” Janelsa said.
Gehsek mechanically turned his head to Muli, who frantically backed up her order, waving him away so hard his headdress almost fell off. As Gehsek turned to leave, his larger cape clipped the banner covering the door.
Janelsa’s poisonous glare would have pierced Gehsek’s simple scaled bronze if he were still in the room, so Muli kept his mouth shut until she spoke.
“I would have him killed,” she spat out, tightly gripping whatever part of Janurana she could hold while her hand was snuggled.
“Janelsa…”
“Did I stutter?”
“No you wouldn’t. He hasn’t done anything wrong. Sure, can be a bit disrespectful but you need that in a commander! You can’t just have them do whatever you want.”
“Uh, yes. You can.”
“But how else would you know if you’re making a dumb decision?”
Janelsa was thankful he didn’t bring up her defeat yet again. She had beaten the plateau so few questioned her when she entered the swamps, but she wondered if any would have seen the obvious flaws like a lack of proper terrain knowledge or understanding of the enemy if she didn’t have such rigid discipline.
“I’m sure he wants more luxury, but I can’t let my highest commanders have all the treasure. Yes, yes, I know what I said. I am generous. But this is a matter of making my fishers and tradesmen efficient. His family is rich enough while their traders have cloth for their sails and fishermen have enough nets. You should feel grateful I scraped up as much as I did to make that statement today!” Muli cleared his throat. “Besides, I can remove him from my service any time I want.”
“Yes, always a sword’s length away.”
“He uses an ax.”
“I think he’d prefer a sword.”