Chapter 14

The light inside of the tent was dim. The air was cool. It was richly appointed with silk floor pillows. Servants brought drinks to the assembled officers and warlords. Shaved ice was served, flavoured with mint. Dryden wondered at the difficulty and expense of the frosty dessert here in the hot dry climate. Would such a king be any different from Guranji? He thought not but held his tongue. General Blackwater was not in a good state. He was flushed and exhausted. He was given the central seat across from Kurush, a place of honour. He was reclined and given cool water to drink. One of Kurush’s servants had been set to fanning him. If nothing else, the warlord knew the art of hospitality.

Gorst and Dryden were seated on either side of the old general. Behind them were the general’s staff and their translators. The guard had been left outside. Along with Kurush sat the darkly dressed woman, and his emissary Kal’kuris. Behind him sat several of his warlords, as well as the Fyrin officer Jaqu.

The emissary Kal’kuris was the first to speak, “You have overstayed my king’s most merciful and generous offer. We provided you with one week. It has been three. Was I not clear when we met before?”

“You were clear.” Colonel Gorst replied. He had been among the officers present at that meeting.

“In these weeks, your position has weakened, has it not? Lack of supplies. Disease among the soldiers. Now, bedlam in the streets, and in your own camp. You have withdrawn from the outer forts. That my king has not taken them is another mercy he offers. Finally, I must mention, that the state of your general, Lord Blackwater, is concerning. We wish him good health.”

There was no reply. All of what he said was true. It seemed likely that there were enemy agents in Vurun who had provided these details to the enemy.

Then Kurush spoke with a smile on his bronze sun-darkened face. He spoke in the Vuruni tongue. Chatham translated, whispering into Dryden’s ear, “He says he now sees why you have not left Vurun. Your General Blackwater is not fit to travel. He says he is merciful. He did not understand why you had not accepted his generosity, but now he sees that you could not. He respects your loyalty to your leader. He wishes for peace. He believes that you wish for peace also, and that is the reason for which Belfair is not present. He grants you one final week for Blackwater to recover, then you must all leave the city.”

Gorst frowned and looked to Blackwater, “Sir?”

The old general propped himself up and looked at Kurush, then around at his men, “Belfair… Where is Belfair?”

“You opted to leave him in command of the fort, sir,” Gorst whispered.

“Where are we, captain?” The old general asked.

“We’re in talks with Kurush, sir, and I’m a colonel now.”

“Good gods, congratulations man, when did that happen?” Blackwater looked up at his colonel in surprise.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Years ago, sir. You need to make a decision. Fight or retreat.”

“I’m tired.” The old man replied, “So very tired. Can we choose tomorrow?”

“We cannot.”

“I leave it to you, then, colonel.” He leaned back and sighed.

Gorst looked to Dryden with a pained face, he didn’t want this burden. This should never have been his decision. It wasn’t Dryden’s either.

“Belfair would stay and fight.” Dryden whispered, “So would Havor.”

“They’re not here, however.” Gorst turned back to the warlord, “I’m afraid General Blackwater is unwell, as you know.” Gorst started to say. One of the translators spoke for him in the Vuruni tongue. “He has left the decision to me. I assume your offer comes with the promise of safe conduct for our army and followers through Settru Pass and all the way to our garrison at Andaban?”

“It does.” The warlord replied in perfect Vastrum.

“Then I… “ Gorst began.

“If you recognize me as rightful king of Vurun.”

Gorst sputtered. He didn’t have the authority for that. He knew it. The warlord likely knew it. He didn’t care. He wanted them to cede the city. “I need to consult my people. Will you give me a moment?” He leaned in to Dryden, “Keep him busy while I talk with the general’s advisors.” Gorst left the tent then, with several adjutants and corporals.

Dryden sat awkwardly with Chatham, the two of them practically alone with the warlord. Only Blackwater was there with them, but he was snoring, asleep on the silk pillows, being fanned by a servant.

“You are the warrior, then?” Kurush asked in Vastrum. He spoke directly to Dryden.

“I’m a soldier.” He replied.

“I understand you have the spirit of a fighter. You have won medals and honour in battle, have you not?” The warlord said.

“I’ve done my duty,” Dryden answered. He wondered how the warlord knew anything about him.

The woman laughed, her gold eyes burned into him, “Your soul is stained. I see it. Duty is a mask. We are here to speak of peace, yet you are no dove. You cavalrymen are leopards. Your jaws are painted in blood, yet you claim only to do your duty.” She laughed wickedly again. “A thousand years of conquest. Blood in the sands and bones among the rocks. You come again and again for the power of the land, and every time, you men die here. We here in this land know well how to hunt leopards. This is a graveyard for bold men. The soil remembers the sins committed upon it. It remembers you, and all your kind that came before; murdering, raping, burning, stealing, and sucking its blood...”

Before she could continue her rant, the tent flap opened and Colonel Gorst walked back in, “We accept. You are king here. We will leave within a week’s time, so long as you promise us safe passage.”

“Safe passage, you shall have it. We are agreed.” The king smiled warmly, “You have one final week, but do not think us friends. If you stay, we will make an end of you.”

They all rose then and left the tent. Blackwater was carried from the tent and placed into a cart, he was in no shape to ride his horse. The general’s guard and all his adjutants and officers mounted up and they went to leave.

As they rode by, the sister of the new king stopped and stared at Dryden, “My brother offers you safe passage. That is his to give. The land itself answers to no king!” Her gold eyes flashed brightly in the sun, wind whipped her black hair, and she laughed that same wicked laugh. Then the column of riders were past her and she was gone.

“One bloody week. It’s not half enough time to move an army.” Gorst growled, “Damn Blackwater, damn Belfair, and damn this whole bloody mess.”

Dryden nodded, “We do what we must, sir.”

“Indeed, major, indeed.”

All the way back to the fort, the eyes of the woman haunted him. There was pain there, and a rage he’d never seen in a woman before. He believed Kurush’s promise. He was certain of it. It was that woman they would have to worry about. If it were her decision, he knew she would never let them leave this place alive.