Winter arrived in Bil’Faridh. Her usual late-night observations from the high vantage of the palace were slowly ending. Not even her thickened coats and fur lined gowns kept the brisk wind away. Her toes curled within her thickened slippers every night. She kept her arms wrapped over her chest as she admired the flickering lights from the districts below. The fire wine was some help, searing her insides with its spicy sweetness.
The chill was there. The warmth of the south lingered even in the early morning. Pharaoh Nadiyya yawned into her gloved fist as she scanned the north-western horizon. There was nothing, always nothing, but the scouts’ reports of the emperor’s army were consistent with threats around An’Shar.
She was tired of all the words. Perhaps it was the hardness that returned to her body. The hardness of her early years returned, and she felt strength course through her limbs. Blisters hardened her palms beneath her leather gloves. Training was a habit now. Her body yearned for those moments once duty ended for the day.
Nadiyya adjusted her helm and enjoyed the frosty caress of the early morning breeze along her now unprotected neck. Night clung to the lands even as the early morning sun burned it away. She yawned again and nodded at the greeting jaguar gate guards passing by.
The jaguar district turned into quite a spectacle in recent nights. A few trouble makers thought to punish them for their king’s treachery. Drunken brawls, nothing more, but she lingered in the district whenever she could. A friendly Lion, the pharaoh no less, dissuaded many from heeding their alcohol tainted ambitions.
All sieges brought trouble. It bothered her that the masses were so quick to give in to fear and hatred. Lions worst of all. It was the last thing they needed.
“If you took their heads like I suggested,”
“Not for drunken brawls! Can you imagine the anger we would draw from such a foolish consequence?”
“Trouble for the future solely to spare anger now, hardly worth it.”
“Not all of us share your bloodlust,” Nadiyya yawned again while she sent her annoyance. Pride’s chuckles filled their bond.
The morning sun took hold and brightened the pale sky with a dying yellow. Its warmth was reasonable, nowhere near the usually stifling humidity, but enough to trust her judgement on not wearing a coat over her armour. She loosened her tightening joints with quick stretches and made her way towards the closest stairway down the sandy monstrosity.
Nadiyya beamed at all who greeted her, nodding and tapping the odd shoulder to keep spirits up. Yet there remained a stink of unease in the air still, faint but noticeable. She wanted the besiegers to arrive, almost. Hopefully, their minds would be uninterrupted.
Pride was already waiting for her at the bottom, in an alleyway nearby. The jaguar district was awake, and eyes fell upon her ornate armour. She mounted up and dashed through the district to the palace. Brick homes and tiled roofs sped by. The noise of industry was ceaseless day and night, heightened now that she rode within it.
Patrols of district guards were many and kept the masses off the roads. Most people gasped and pointed at the sparkling flash blinking by. Thankfully, the roads were open, and Pride wasted none of his speed. Soon the uneasy scent faded amongst the fumes that prepared for the coming siege, and she was amongst the noble ring. With the pale stone palace shadowed by a gloomy Sanctuary, behind.
Nadiyya scaled the hundred steps two at a time, shivering at the eerie silence rather than the biting breeze. The palace was quiet, and it didn’t help that Sanctuary’s gloom encroached on it from behind. She tasted moisture in the air, yet the skies were clear. Palace guards nodded at her once she reached the top. Though she didn’t continue her journey into the crystalline luxury within.
She turned around and set her gaze upon Bil’Faridh from her grand vantage. Every district doused their fire. Plumes of smoke rose from smithies and bakeries alike. People strode with determination in the streets. Whether from homes, inns or taverns, duty called them to do their part for the defence.
Her eyes drifted beyond the towering sandy walls and onto the well-paved roads stretching away from the capital. Sprouting from every district gate and stretching beyond into every horizon.
The gates remained shut these days. A precaution, for when the emperor’s mind addled, anger eventually swarmed before them. Yet there was one that allowed a sliver of the morning sunlight through its slender opening.
Her eyes narrowed at the beast drawn wagon. The gates widened further to allow it, and another pair of mounted Tamers trotted in. A dark sheet covered whatever they brought, but the poorly dressed Tamers riding around it were enough of a hint.
They emptied all winter stores from unprotected farms. She hoped the farmers and village folk alike heeded the warnings of such an order. None had sought refuge at Bil’Faridh yet, though she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was still the safest place to be.
Nadiyya finally abandoned her observations and enjoyed the surprising warmth of the palace. Despite the grand crystalline halls, with its windows and many open doors. The flickering candles and torches were not the cause. Warmth pulsed from within the polished columns and grey stone walls. It always began with winter. From where? She wasn’t sure, but the warmth was there and never uncomfortable.
Her boots echoed as she strode towards the elevated thrones at the other end. The scale of her armour chimed its own rhythm, creating a royal tune within the silence of the hall. Pride remained a silent companion all the way towards the stone thrones. Until he suddenly flashed with, well, Nadiyya couldn’t place the scent. Nor the rumblings through their bond.
Before she questioned him, a strange scent emanated from the unprotected war room doors. Her palm itched after she circled the thrones, but it was only a soldier she didn’t recognise who departed from it. A stocky, youthful soldier in armour rarely seen within the noble ring, let alone in the war room.
He closed the doors behind him, still oblivious to her presence before he turned to face her. Nadiyya paused and crossed her arms with a frown. He dragged his boots with his head bowed, and remained unaware until she cleared her throat. The soldier smelled of the city, which was pleasant to her, yet his scent trickled with disappointment.
His head snapped up, then his entire body froze. First his brown eyes widened, then he exploded with an unsettling number of scents. There was excitement and confusion, fear and awe. He whipped off his helm to reveal the organised stubble on his head before dropping to the floor. It was so quick he cracked his knee painfully on the marble floor, but the boy showed no sign of hurt.
“Great Pharaoh, forgive me, I did not see… I am honoured to be in your presence.”
“Oh my,” Nadiyya chuckled. “Rarely am I graced by such grand respect.”
“It is the least you deserve, great Pharaoh.”
“Please rise, so I may thank you properly.”
There was something about him. He was tall, handsome, and brawny. His chaotic scents continued to swirl into her nose, with a touch of anxiety as well.
“Your name, young man?”
“Aman, Pharaoh.”
That did nothing, and it irked her she struggled to place him. She saw many soldiers every day, but it wounded her to be so close yet so far with one she recognised.
Aman squirmed before her. His fingers were frantic, his eyes couldn’t decide between lingering on his boots or on herself.
“Don’t let me keep you from your duty Aman, train hard,” Nadiyya beamed, and he bowed again.
“Thank you, Pharaoh, I shall, thank you. An honour and… thank you,” he scurried away.
Pride’s grumbling soured her amusement, but she thought better than to ask. She entered the war room alone, leaving her hulking Tamed Sinha to lounge outside the closed doors.
Gawahir sat behind his desk with his head in his hands. Haunted by the grand Atum Ra banner, in his colours, hanging behind him. It appeared as faded as her husband. Shrouded in the gloom of the dimly lit war room, his troubled figure wiped Aman from her mind as she rushed to light a few more candles.
The gentle hum of an unseen pipe worked hard to keep the air fresh within the cramped, windowless room, but her chest tightened. More for Gawahir’s despair than stale air.
Nadiyya leant over his desk and eyed the crumpled page beneath him. It was unintelligible from her vantage, but she feared his reaction if she aroused his attention.
Since his surprising bout of romance in one of Sanctuary’s gardens, the man returned to his common mood. There were many nights where she slept and awoke alone in their bed, with Gawahir nowhere to be found. If it wasn’t for the demands of her own duty, her mood might have been worse.
This is ridiculous, she snapped at herself and sighed at him.
“What news?”
“We should wait for the others,” his voice cracked when he answered.
He was a decade older somehow, and grey. His dark eyes drowned in worry and his cheeks were hollow. Whatever this news was couldn’t be good, but she obeyed.
The silence was excruciating. It wasn’t more than a few minutes, yet Nadiyya’s skin crawled. She was almost on her knees, grateful for the inkosi and kumkani. Musa appeared as dishevelled as her husband, not gaunt or grey, but affected by their frantic circumstances. Lihle was a picture of calm. Which wasn’t a surprise. She watched him fiddle with his pipe, stuffing it with the sweet smelling honeyweed before hiding it within his sandy brown silks.
“I have…”
Gawahir and Musa spoke together and fell silent together.
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“You have news?” Nadiyya asked Musa, her heart pricking up at the possibility of it being from Zaki.
“From Cali’Aaraam, a change of plans, I believe.”
“How?”
“They are splitting the army. The Tamers will…”
“Wait a moment Musa,” Lihle interrupted. Nadiyya almost rounded on him before she overheard the approaching boots.
Lihle muttered for the knocker to enter and a soldier in bronze scale strode in. She hesitated at the gathering before she spoke.
“Report from Captain Malik.”
Nadiyya thanked the woman and silence lingered over all of them until the soldier’s footsteps faded to her ears. The kumkani nodded at Musa for him to continue, while she stuffed the parchment into a pocket beneath her ornate armour.
“They are sending the soldiers to the capital while continuing with the Tamers.”
“Excellent!” Gawahir lit up, drawing all of their eyes. “That will certainly ease my news. An’Shar burns, and they cannot send reinforcements. Should the town fall, I’ve given orders for them to retreat to Sinh’Chattaan.”
“The emperor’s forces?”
“I assume so, though I do not believe he intends to march on Sinh’Chattaan again,” Gawahir was confident, which narrowed her eyes. “Little more than a distraction, to stretch us thin, but with the Cheetahs arriving early, there’s little need to fall for Jun’s tricks.”
“Without Tamers,” Lihle cautioned, then turned to Nadiyya. “I don’t believe this attack by Jun is something to scoff at.”
Gawahir waved the kumkani’s words away, not noticing he meant them for herself. She nodded and Lihle relaxed into a chair.
“If Zaki is traveling with only Tamers, then perhaps we can expect his arrival sooner than the emperor’s?”
“Unlikely Gawahir, though this separation may aid us, it will put him at risk, with their numbers now lessened. Jun will arrive before him, but this speed will enable them to flank the emperor before his forces can fortify their position beyond these walls.”
“A problem for later, then. I trust you will remain in touch, Musa?”
Inkosi Musa nodded, then yawned in his hand.
“We have received a boom in recruits,”
“Gawahir not this again,” Nadiyya blurted while she retrieved the stuffed away parchment from beneath her armour.
“Recruits who chose their duty Nadiyya, I am not breaking your Tamer beliefs.”
It stung her to hear those words again. Words she heard often during her early years patrolling the districts. Whispered by drunken fools who shared their displeasure at their current state. Angry for their own choice of duty, or cursing the Great Beast for not granting them enough of the Essence to become Tamers themselves. That was the truth of it.
She knew it was envy for the impossible. They thought themselves robbed of being Tamers, as if the Great Beast chose. She never thought she'd hear it from him. Not once had Gawahir shown any sign, not even during their worst moments together.
“Regardless, things are on the up and we should spread the optimism,” Gawahir restarted, but Nadiyya’s attention fell towards the scroll of parchment she stuffed away.
She unfurled it and rushed through the scribbled ink. Her curse almost burst through her lips, but her scent attracted the kumkani’s eyes. Nadiyya crumpled the paper into a ball and made her way to the exit.
“Trouble in the districts,” she blurted before Gawahir could ask.
“I’ll come with you,” Lihle followed.
They arrived in the lion district much slower than she would have liked. The kumkani was without his Tamed, it was only polite to remain on foot herself. At least he kept up with her wide strides, as wide as her short legs allowed. Unfortunately, they were not swift enough to beat the apparent crowd milling about a grand home of sandy stone. On the edge of the noble district, where the occupants struggled to flash their wealth. Bronze, where there should have been silver or gold, colourful linens draped between columns and hung over gardens instead of pristine silks.
A hush came over them when they opened a direct path towards the shouting district guards. Their shields were broad and ready, but their number was nowhere near enough to control them, should the crowd decide to worsen.
Captain Malik noted her approach. His eyes widened at first, then he bellowed for the crowd to part. Needlessly, for most were already mid bow on either side of her. The addition of fear was new to her, yet Pride drew the usual yelps.
Malik’s squad nodded at her when she arrived in the centre of their ring, noticeably upright, with their shields raised against the crowd. The captain removed his bronze helm and bowed, but the splintered door to her right drew her gaze.
“This is the den?” Nadiyya asked.
She eyed the large home, with formerly decorative hieroglyphs faded to nothingness in the sandy stonework. Shredded silk wrapped the protruding beams, and the overhanging gardens were dead. Swarmed with crackling brown leaves and dry stumps.
“Yes Pharaoh, we found conspirators and thieves, also a few worrying…”
“Perhaps we should speak inside,” Lihle interrupted, massaging the ivory pommels of his short swords. Nadiyya frowned at him, and the kumkani scratched his earlobe at her.
“Yes, inside,” Nadiyya was the first to step towards the splintered door hanging off its hinges.
Captain Malik rushed soon after, and beat her to the door, opening it for her entry.
“Stay outside for curious eyes and ears. They may watch,” Nadiyya said to Pride before entering the gloom of the abandoned home.
The captain struggled to shut the door. Nadiyya scrunched her nose at the strange scent hovering within. Amongst the stuffiness that floated with the ever-present dust coating what remained of the furniture. A window hadn’t been open for weeks.
There was more rubble and destruction, pockets between the layer of dust hinted towards the struggle of the arrest. Shredded rugs and tattered linen curtains lay strewn, stinking of old blood and oil.
“How many were there?”
“Five, Pharaoh, all of them fought back. They wounded a few of my squad.”
“Lions?”
“I believe so, Pharaoh.”
Malik didn’t like that question, nor did she enjoy his confirmation.
“Where are you keeping them?”
“The district barrack’s cells.”
Nadiyya moaned at him, her nose irritated by the lingering stench. Beyond the stale decay of abandonment. The rags and torn linen didn’t justify the growing stink of blood and oil. It only heightened suspicion.
She shifted beyond the entrance, across the room filled with battered furniture, into a passageway littered by chips in the stone. Carving away the dull dusty paint and ruining the chipped murals stretching from one end to the other. The dusty floor snatched her gaze, where beads of darkened blood dotted it at random. There wasn’t much hint beyond chaos in the dust.
“What else did you uncover?” Nadiyya asked as she entered another dark room, with a grand rotting dining table in the centre.
“Plans, Pharaoh, strange plans, a few obvious ones noting storages for food and armouries in the lion, tiger, lynx and cheetah districts. Then there were odd scribbles, coded orders I suppose, speaking of moving precious stones from one mine to another.”
The stink of blood and oil strengthened as she circled around the table. She glanced at Lihle, who put his own nose to work. He narrowed his eyes towards different spots in the room. Towards the many corners and the floor.
Excitement returned to the crowd gathered outside the home, which did its best to distract her from the stink. It wasn’t as rowdy as when she arrived, but the noise grew.
“Precious stones and mines?”
“Yes Pharaoh. It has to be code. We only found half-empty pouches of gold on them.”
Nadiyya moaned, hardly paying the captain much mind. Her questions were more to keep him involved.
“We searched every room, even the second and third storeys. There isn’t much as you ascend.”
“Any clue towards who may be the owner, or the former?”
“None Pharaoh.”
Lihle froze. Both of his hands rushed for the pommels of his billao blades. Nadiyya glanced back at the captain, who was studying a different corner and quickly made her way towards the kumkani.
“Do you hear that?” He whispered.
The stink was stronger here, and occasionally a gust worsened it. She made out muffled moaning, but the source was a mystery. Barely stronger than the breeze. At the second sounding, she nodded at Lihle.
“Captain,” she glanced back at Malik. “Prepare more search parties. I want all the abandoned homes in this district searched. I will send for a few Tamers to accompany you. Then we may need to shift into the tiger district afterwards.”
“Yes Pharaoh,” he rushed from the abandoned home and she waited until he closed the rickety door.
“This may be more than what it may seem.” Nadiyya said to Lihle.
“It worries me that there are indecipherable orders amongst more obvious and blatant plans for thievery.”
“Is the thievery a distraction?” Nadiyya asked.
“Perhaps, but I believe the answer awaits us.”
They entered the passageway together and eyed the strange scrapes on the floor. The breeze whistled from the wall to their right.
“Should we expect any traps?”
“Allow me to take the lead,” Lihle offered with a smile and stepped forward, caressing the wall for any sign of opening. Nadiyya flexed her shoulders and prepared to draw her khopesh at a moment’s notice.
“Ready?” He paused and smirked over his shoulder. Nadiyya drew her khopesh before he pressed the wall.
There was a click and a groan. Lihle pushed until the sandy stone wall opened, grinding the floor to reveal a dark descent into the earth. A gust from the bowels filled her nose with the awful stink, now with the addition of rotting flesh.
He took the first steps as promised, sliding down the steep sandy path with both blades drawn and ready. The stench became near insufferable, but the descent continued, thankfully with the ground levelling.
Torchlight flickered at a corner, turning left. Nadiyya ended her fears of a potential threat and softened her guard, raising a kerchief over her nose. The muffled shifting and straining turned to weeping as they approached. She was fighting her stomach from spilling out by the time they arrived.
“Beast,” Nadiyya and Lihle cursed together as they gazed open a dumping site of rotting corpses.
There were four pillars, two of them kept pairs of weeping prisoners, with hints of glitter on their soiled, pale umber flesh. The four moaned as they struggled. No doubt seeing nothing more than figures in the shadows.
This was definitely more than it seemed, and it only tightened her grip on her khopesh.