Prince Zaki rode at the head of the column in the rain during rare bursts of warmth on the annoyingly slow journey. He ground his teeth through the agony. Despite the many hours spent on Dawn’s back, he found no respite to match his time lying within the makeshift carriage. Which was a different torment.

There was no more poultice to numb his aches and soften his wounds, only the bitter heartroot. It hardly made a difference, though Jazmin insisted on completing the dosage. It was the weather and the lack of protection against it that worsened his healing wounds. Dawn claimed, becoming annoyed by his internal complaints. There was no armour to wear. No heavy cloaks to keep the cold at bay. Only his silk bandages and a few layers of clothing.

Sweat was the enemy of healing, Jazmin said, and Zaki feared immolation. The callouses and ruined flesh were a reminder of the risk. Who knew what damage would occur with a candle sized flame?

Evening arrived. Their slow march was a miserable one under the ever-present rain. The Leopards behind the Tamers were not the cause, for their singing kept their spirits up. It was what drove him, for they did not forget his many names in any verse. The baritones boomed like thunder to complement the sweet sopranos, who never wavered.

Tamers soured the foot soldiers’ march for the prince. He might have shared their annoyance at the slow pace, but they could have at least hidden it better. Zaki yearned for a fast ride with all the Tamers, leaving the captains behind to lead the soldiers. If only to escape the rain. Duty demanded this small sacrifice. Jun’s Tamers waited for them. To risk Bil’Faridh for a minor comfort was not worth it.

Anele and Sinalo called for a halt, with the sunset nearing its beautiful end behind them. As if to further anger the Tamers, the rain ceased and a frightening slicing wind picked up to dry the wetness all over the western borders of the Sank’Ta Province. Icy gusts cut deep to your bones, avoidable if they maintained their march through the night.

Campfires sparked to life, and small tents sprouted around them. The familiar brown landscape proved they were close, a few hours away, mounted, but they needed a full-strength army to meet the besiegers. Rather than over a thousand fatigued Tamers.

Prince Zaki was glad to relieve his aching body of Melina’s shield, which weighed like a mountain on him, aided by his khopesh beneath it. His hands prickled when he touched Jian’s katanas on his waist. A phantom finger jerked on his left hand, while the stiff ring finger jolted with renewed aches. Soothed by the heartbeat of the ironvine ring.

Jazmin arrived in the tent the moment Anele and Sinalo departed, an unspoken routine of late. She steamed from her immolation, drying her rain-soaked clothes and emanating warmth when she knelt before him. Her immolation faded, and she began with his left hand.

Her healing hands for his ruined one. She unfurled the damp bandages with all the care he was used to. He grimaced when it pulled on his raw flesh.

“Have you been massaging it, Prince?”

“Yes,” Zaki hissed through gritted teeth when she tested his finger. It bent more than yesterday, though it was slow and painful.

“The ironvine is having an effect, but it needs,”

“I know!”

“Sorry,” she sighed, and he noticed bags under her eyes. She looked gaunt.

“Is something the matter?” Zaki asked.

“Idle troubles you need not suffer. I thank you for your concern, however. I have good news for you. Tonight is your last dosage of the heartroot milk. The need for bandages is over.”

He frowned at the emptiness in her voice. She spoke of joy yet did not believe it for one second. It wasn’t deceit as far as her scent was concerned. Trouble beyond him.

“I doubt your flesh will ever return to what it once was. These burns and cuts will shrink, but never disappear. I don't know about the gold flecks.”

“If speaking it softens the load Jazmin, I would have you speak.”

She met his gaze while caressing his body with her tingling, healing hands. A mournful scent trickled into his nose.

“It really is nothing Prince, I miss Ayla, that is all.”

“A day's march away.”

She murmured something, her mournful scent strengthening.

“There’s something more, isn’t there?”

Jazmin squirmed under his gaze, still healing him. She remained silent as she worked on his back. He waited until she faced him again and noted the obvious reluctance.

Zaki watched Jazmin, eyeing the growth of organised darkness atop her head. Her unkempt clothing, which was always plain, yet now exuded an aura of grief she failed to hide.

“Did someone harm you?”

“No, Prince, it is an anniversary, and with it come bad dreams.”

“Anniversary of,”

“Please do not make me speak of it, not now,” Jazmin rushed to her feet with glittering eyes. She placed the vial of heartroot milk on the table before bowing. “I will send for hot water and your food. Please do not forget the milk.”

She was gone, leaving him behind in the dim light of the tent, massaging his stiff ring finger. Mind racing on her troubles.

They got an early start in the morning, breaking camp during a slight drizzle, and resumed their march through a dense fog. It was still damp, not from rain. The sun was slow to shine its light on them. Zaki tasted moisture with every breath.

His clothes felt strange directly on his raw flesh. The fresh cloth pricked at his sensitive skin; every fibre dug through his flesh to poke at his pain. It didn’t help that the borrowed leather armour kept it in place. A spare set of script strengthened leathers, which he doubted would keep an arrow from slicing through it.

He felt the weight of every piece on his limbs. Another thing daring to shatter his confidence before another test. Zaki didn’t expect for his strength not to return. He didn’t feel weak, but whenever he carried Jian’s katanas with his khopesh, he didn’t feel right. The one who earned so much praise from the marching Leopards behind the Tamers. This was without mentioning Melina’s shield, which remained a mountain on his back.

“It will pass in time.”

Zaki jumped on Dawn’s back as her voice danced through their bond after an eternity of silence.

“You speak, I almost forgot.”

She grunted aloud.

He kept his mind empty, though it was impossible to keep his intentions hidden from Dawn. It was unfair.

“Many things are unfair. We must all deal with what is.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“What happened?”

“That spring, and us speaking with our lips.”

“A meeting after the first Vivada.”

Zaki waited for more while the fog cleared. More warmth radiated from the sun.

“Is that it?”

“What else is there to say?”

He bit his tongue, which amused Dawn.

“Please do not stay silent again.”

“I will try.”

He took solace in her sincerity. A small lift to his mood, to match the bright morning sun beating through the moisture.

The gravel road hardened, turning into cobblestone. It quickened their pace as an icy wind reminded them it was still winter, even in the Sank’Ta.

Master Sinalo sent Tamers ahead to scout, ensuring there wouldn’t be any trouble. It forced them to slow again. They returned at midday with strange news on their lips.

“How do we proceed?” Master Anele asked as they gathered together. A short distance from Bil’Faridh’s walls.

“It might be a trap. We should proceed with caution until we see the besiegers.”

“An open jaguar gate does not mean they control the walls. If there are no defences, and their numbers are less than expected, perhaps news of Jian’s demise has shattered them. Do we expect more from a king of Raban’s reputation?”

“I thought we learned our lesson about believing other’s reputations?”

“Cowardice is a different beast.”

“No coward would march to war.”

“Enough,” Anele snapped. “That is of little importance now. We should plan our attack, since we do not have to worry about a defence.”

Both masters Tamers turned towards him, despite the simplicity of their task. At least in his own mind.

“Find captains to lead the Leopards amongst the Tamers. Two should be enough. I want a two-thirds split amongst the foot soldiers. They will fight on the left flank. Preventing any counters from the Tigers. They will bolster us and cover our rear after we charge. Sinalo, I want you to remain with the Leopards while Anele and the Cheetahs will aid me in clearing out the jaguar district of any attackers.”

The master Tamers said nothing, listening intently while he spoke, and when he ended, he waited for a response.

Nothing.

“Are we in agreement?”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“It will be done,” they said together.

Their march resumed.

The pace was an electric one. Their strides were wide, on the precipice of a jogger’s speed. Leopards on their feet were capable of more, but they needed all their energy for fighting. After an hour, the anticipation gnawed at him. He massaged his stiffened finger, slowly restoring its functionality.

Prince Zaki wore no hood. He enjoyed the faint warmth of the afternoon sun on his sensitive bald head. It energised him, calming his itchy hand and sparing his khopesh before the time arrived.

Bil’Faridh came into view on the horizon. Destruction marked its dusty walls. Ruined buildings smouldered close to the gates of a few districts. Their march changed from a column, widening for a full charge during the hour of their arrival. They focused their destruction on the three middle districts. The jaguar, lynx and tiger, with the tiger much less affected.

Siege towers hugged the lynx walls and a solitary one was halfway towards the Beast’s Tear before the jaguar district walls. Abandoned. He could not see who was on the walls.

The Jaguars stood as reported, disorganised in their low numbers. Mud and dead brown grass dominated the siege camp. Bells rang in Bil’Faridh, and soon the besiegers did the same. Prince Zaki halted their march on the crest of the hill, with the Tamers lined in a wedge formation.

Tigers on the western flank faced them, behind their palisades and stakes, which did not stretch beyond their own tents to protect their Jaguar allies. They were the greatest number amongst the besiegers, barely more organised than the Jaguars.

Prince Zaki gazed upon Sanctuary behind the palace of Bil’Faridh, shrouded in a pale wisp of clouds. It filled him with his final push, seeing hints of the otherworldly beauty through the veil. How things changed since he last saw it.

He drew his khopesh and trembled with its weight, before raising it in the air.

“To the capital!”

He roared with Dawn, pointing his khopesh down, and the Tamers roared with him. Leopards at the rear chanted moments after and they raced towards the depleted Jaguars. Their bulky armour flashed beneath the clear sky, and their pale faces were oddly calm, despite their death drumming towards them.

At the head of the wedge, Zaki lowered his khopesh. Masters Anele and Sinalo were on either side of him, roaring as loudly as he did. He was nearly hoarse before they struck the Jaguars, but he shouted something else entirely.

“Stop!”

“Halt!”

“Hold your weapons!”

It took a moment for his shouts to reach the Tamers roaring behind, but Anele and Sinalo lent their own voices.

The Jaguars threw down their weapons and their shields. Tamed Jagu’ara bowed their heads when the heavily armoured soldiers dropped to their knees. Some threw off their helms, and others, too craven to accept their end, fled, scattered to all directions right until Zaki slowed to a halt.

Master Sinalo ordered for a ring of protection around Zaki when he dismounted. He wore his confusion at the Jaguars, still kneeling. Weapons tossed aside, some prostrated before him. No one moved, despite the overwhelming stink of fear of all the Jaguars, Tamers included.

Zaki shared a look with his generals, and they both shrugged at him. All the Cheetah and Leopard Tamers remained alert, but kept their bloodlust in check. After a while of nothing, he sheathed his khopesh and emerged from the ring of Leopards.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“We surrender Prince Atum Ra; our king ordered us to.”

“Where is he now?” Zaki asked of the prostrated Jaguar before him.

“He gave himself to the defenders of the jaguar district, sparing us from a slaughter.”

“Rise.”

She did, and stood taller than him by a head, with neck length dark hair and a freckled, pale face. Her ornate plate was script strengthened, with a tabard depicting the Farkry symbol. A vinewood hand snatching a crown.

Prince Zaki gazed beyond the Jaguar Tamer up at the walls and saw district guards straining their eyes down towards them. The jaguar gate was open and untouched.

“What do I call you?”

“I am Lady Alanna Green, ninth knight to King Raban.”

Zaki eyed the shining halberd on the ground beside her helm. Its bronze accents mimicked the wood of a vinewood tree.

“Round up what remains of your Jaguars and deliver your weapons to the Leopards.”

He turned towards Sinalo, “Show them mercy, but ensure our full strength stands against the Tigers in the east. Don't fight and discover what you can.”

Master Sinalo nodded.

“Anele, with me, leave the Cheetahs behind.”

Prince Zaki mounted Dawn again and rode with Master Anele beside him towards the gate. The district guards atop the walls and gatehouse cheered, finally recognising him. They crossed over the Beast’s Tear on the stone bridge and entered Bil’Faridh.

Master Anele’s confused scent struck him first, before the bustling cheers of the jaguar district guards emerged from the surrounding buildings. There were palace guards amongst them, sharing in the joy. Even the physicians paused amongst the wounded to share their happiness.

“What is this, Prince?”

“I don’t have a clue.”

They drowned out their whispers and a palace guard in golden scale rode towards them with his subtly dented helm hanging on his waist.

“Prince Zaki, welcome home.”

“What is all of this?”

“The attacks have ceased in all districts. It surprised us when King Raban and a hundred of his Jaguars offered themselves up at the gates to surrender. Many deserted before this. Until news spread of Jian the Dark’s demise, we were confused.”

Zaki’s left hand throbbed, and he shoved it behind his back. The palace guard noticed it.

“Where is the king?”

“Escorted to the palace by the inkosi. I believe the pharaoh is in the marketplace further in, if you wish to see him.”

“Prepare for more prisoners. The Jaguars outside the gate have also surrendered.”

“Yes, Prince.”

Zaki nodded at Anele to follow and they rode through the courtyard, following the main road of the district.

Many homes still smouldered, some were soot stained, and others with caved in roofs. Destruction littered the quiet cobblestone street. Shards of wood, tile, and stone crunched beneath their beasts’ paws. It echoed in the chilling silence of the district, hastening their speed ended the deathly silence altogether.

The hustling noise sounded like the marketplace was alive with commerce. His eyes saw the truth of it. Soldiers upon soldiers filled the market square, milling back and forth around the makeshift defences. The towers bustled with the presence of archers, who stretched their bowstrings at first before realising who approached.

Soon cheers spread amongst the jaguar district guards, with the odd golden palace guard watching with lazy eyes.

So many palace guards, Zaki thought to himself. Was it that desperate?

A burly woman in golden scale armour marched towards him, but the prince’s attention fell on the common folk bearing weapons on their waist, chatting with the armoured soldiers.

“Prince Zaki, welcome,” she bowed.

“Who are they over there with weapons?”

“Volunteers,” she said. “You missed the pharaoh by a few hours. Pharaoh Gawahir would be the best to talk to.”

“Volunteers?” Anele blurted out for both of them, then cursed under her breath.

What has happened here?

“Where is he?”

“The pharaoh rushed into the lynx district after taking two palace guards.”

He glanced at Anele, and her quick nod was all he needed to rush for the first bridge to his left. Master Anele was close behind as his arm tingled with anticipation. Zaki sensed trouble.

Dawn picked up her speed as they crossed over the flowing water of the Beast’s Tear between the jaguar and lynx district before turning north. It wasn’t long before he smelled death and decay. Cheetahs tended to the wounded in the marketplace. Cloth covered large mounds; Dawn’s grief betrayed the dead Sinha amongst them.

“Prince,” a familiar face called out to him, though when he neared, she reeked of fear. “Master Anele.”

“Captain Inam,” Anele greeted.

“Prince Zaki, I am… I am so sorry,” his chest tightened, there was no air to breathe. “We were too late. By the time we thought to investigate the silence, the corpses were already rotting.”

“Where is the pharaoh?”

“We do not know, Pharaoh Nadiyya wasn’t amongst the dead, and her Tamed was,”

“Where did they go?” He found air, but now his heart drummed.

“Into the tiger district, perhaps beyond. Pharaoh Gawahir,”

Dawn kicked off at a sprint for the next bridge into the tiger district. Darting through cramped alleyways and stepping around corners sharply, it would have tossed anyone but himself off her back. He didn’t care that Master Anele kept up.

Dawn leapt over the bridge into the tiger district and silence struck them. He hesitated, unsure on whether to head north or south of the district. Dawn chose north. The district was a graveyard of silence, with no guard in sight. What made it worse was the lack of destruction. He entered another world entirely, one of panic.

“Da!”

Zaki screamed when he came across him, without a care for his desperate affection. Two Sinha stood beside him and a golden armoured palace guard. It was Pride who noticed him first, the hulking monstrosity for a Sinha. With the addition of dry blood patches blotching his usually pristine ochre, gold fur.

“Boy!”

The prince rushed off Dawn before she stopped and he dived into his father’s arms, fighting back the tears welling in his eyes.

“Zaki,” Da began, then grunted at the force at which he hugged him. His surprised scent almost melted him, and when he felt his arms wrap around his neck, he bit his tongue to fight the tears.

An enormous weight melted off of him. He was a boy again, burying all his troubles into the chest of his protector. It wasn't Ma, but he was enough. Da’s arms were already gone, but Zaki took a moment longer before letting go himself. The prince cleared his throat and kept his left hand behind his back as he composed himself.

“Where is Ma?”

“I sent word to search all the districts, failing that we will begin our search.”

“Tell him the chieftain took her! He refuses to listen.” Pride invaded his mind with more anger than normal.

“Do you know Chief Mandla…”

“I know!” Da snapped. “The kumkani has also disappeared from his post in this district.”

“What about the Panthers beyond the city? Have they have surrendered as well?”

“King Raban is the coward. The Jaguars came here to die, according to him. I doubt the Tigers and Panthers are ready to roll over.”

“We cannot idle while she is missing!”

“We are not idle, boy!”

Zaki regretted his moment of weakness. The weeks of traveling, his near death against Jian, the awful healing afterwards. He almost forgot about who Gawahir actually was.

“There is no need for that, boy,” Dawn cautioned, which turned Zaki’s attention onto Pride.

“What can I do?”

“We must wait for your brother or nightfall, to find both the kumkani and my girl.” Pride answered.

“He is not back. What about palace guards?”

“They emerge at night, but already their numbers have dwindled to the point of reluctance for anything beyond their primary duty.”

“We must wait then?” Zaki cursed aloud, catching Gawahir’s attention.

“It wounds me more than you know.”

Prince Zaki focused on the north, beyond Bil’Faridh’s walls. A yearning came over him. He willed for haste from Mazin, wherever he was.