Epilogue

It was evening in Andaban. A dry dusty haze filled the sky. Only a light breeze blew. The sky was a bright orange and looked ablaze. Dryden stood with Colonel Dansby, Major Havelock, and Captain Khathan atop the walls of Andaban looking out at the enemy who was encamping around the city. Somehow Captain Khathan had made it out of Vurun as well. He had formed the squares down near the fort at the place called Golconda and been lost to Dryden in the smoke and fighting. The battle had been fierce. They had been so stout in their holding the road to the pass, and the supporting cannon fire from Hood so effective, that the riders had eventually simply gone around them through the difficult terrain. When the squares had finally broken, the surviving Guludans ran for the hardest hills and climbed up into them. They had hidden and waited for days, drinking melted snow and starving. Eventually, the Vuruni army had gone, and the small surviving group of Guludan sepoys had climbed over the pass and come down to Andaban themselves. Of Hood’s fate, they did not know, only that the fort had fallen as well, and that none had escaped.

“Oh, Major Dryden, I wanted to give you something,” Dansby said suddenly. He snapped his fingers and a servant came rushing up with a bundle in his arms and handed it to the Colonel.

“We found this out on the road.” He unwrapped it. It was Colonel Gorst’s sword. He had thought it lost. He remembered having lost it, but his mind had been so weakened by his injuries and exhaustion, that he had not been able to retrieve it. Now the colonel presented to him.

He took the sword, “Thank you, sir. I am most grateful.”

“Not at all, Major, think nothing of it. It would not do for you to go into battle without a sword.” Dansby said.

“Indeed.” Major Havelock agreed, “Speaking of which, I understand that when this little siege is done, we will be sent back into Vurun.”

“Yes, I received a letter yesterday. Two armies are being mustered and sent up this way. Something about unfinished business with the Vuruni. They’re calling it the Army of Reprisal or some such twaddle. I suppose the name will mollify the folks back home. One army will be Company men under General Winslow. The other army will be the King’s army under General Haddock. I understand the 13th Dragoons, under Havelock, will be transferred to Haddock’s command when they arrive. You too, I should think, Dryden.”

“I have no men in my command,” Dryden said, “They are all dead.”

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“Nonsense. I have command of the Andaban squadrons, but I’ll need a proper second in command. I can think of none better, Major.” Havelock said, “The job is yours if you’ll accept it. I’m sure you’ll be promoted, decorated, and whatnot, for your actions, but you’re welcome to come with us.”

“Promotions can wait. I’m for Vurun. I made a promise and I mean to keep it.” Dryden said softly, “What of you Captain Khathan?” He asked, deflecting the subject off himself.

“There will be Guludan men in your armies. There are always Guludan men in your armies. We are strong fighters. I will find a place with them. Many of my men left wives and children behind in Vurun as prisoners. Most of my men may be dead, but I will do what I can for their families.”

“You’re welcome to ride with us.” Major Havelock said, “Dryden told us of our fighting prowess. Are you good with a horse?”

“I would like that. Guludan children are born in the saddle. I can ride.” He nodded, “I thank you for the offer. What rank would you give me?”

“You’re a captain. I wouldn’t give you any other rank.” Havelock replied.

A look of surprise crossed Khathan’s face, “But I am not of Vastrum.”

“It matters not for the man who held back the Vuruni hordes at Golconda. Any man of mine will follow such an officer, even a Guludan.”

“I thank you, sir.” He said, genuinely grateful.

Slowly the sun continued to set behind the enemy army encampment. The bright shades of sunset faded into a pale blue that turned dark as they stood and watched. “When will they come, do you think?” Havelock asked.

“If the witch is with them, tonight.” Dryden answered, “The morning if she is not.”

“We have emptied the graveyards and re-buried the bones outside the walls.” Dansby said, “It was not a popular thing to do with the people of the city, but we paid their priests well to help us re-bury their dead in the right way. There may be some bones we did not find, but I think she will not be able to cause such chaos as she did in Vurun. Even now, our new armies are on the move to relieve us. The siege will be short, and in the end, this rabble will be forced to attack our walls directly. That will fail. The walls are sturdy, our soldiers stout of heart. Then the armies will come and they will be forced to retire back across the Settru pass to the eastern side of the Korum. We will come after them and carve them bloody across Vurun, and the whole land will be ours again.”

Dansby’s words felt prophetic to Dryden. He could see it all before them. He knew it would come to pass. He wondered at his own promise to the mountains and his vow to Kal’kuris. The circle of violence and blood would continue for another cycle. The land soaked in the blood of conquest and rebellion. The aethium which grew from those fertile soils. The power possessed in those indigo flowers made empires envious and drew the lustful gaze of kings, drawing more conquest and killing to the land. There would be no end to it. What could one man do? He could fight. Dryden rested his hand on the hilt of his sword and looked out one more time upon the Vuruni army, and waited in silence for the enemy to come.

The End