CHAPTER SEVEN—QUEST TO SAVE THE EMPIRE

After taking back the Palace of Shahir, Shiro waited several hours, but when it became apparent that the enemy was retreating back to their strongholds within the city, he headed back toward camp, which was situated to the north just outside of the city.

Because he, along with Ali and many others, were integral to the war effort, getting captured was unacceptable, and so the commanders of the war effort were situated in the camp where they could easily escape an incursion by the Florencian invaders.

A strange word for a people, he thought.

Shiro wanted to sleep. He trudged toward his tent, glancing up at the moon that shone down across the valley leading to Zanjah. The road was paved with cobblestones, but covered in sand. Campfires burned and soldiers milled about, resting and cooking and polishing their blades as they spoke among themselves.

Farther up the road, the camp extended another mile where all of the camp followers were staying. There were many of them—craftsmen, cooks, whores and bath tents.

Some men nearby shouted as they moved about camp issuing orders to their underlings. Shiro realized Jessamine was in her physical form walking through the sand in her gold-pressed sandals alongside him.

“It has been a long day,” she said.

He nodded. “You look tired.”

“I do?”

“Mm.”

“You think I look tired Shiro,” she said with a smile. “You look like a piece of driftwood. This war is nothing new to you, Shiro. You told me of the wars you have been in. You are a veteran samurai after all.”

He nodded. “That does not mean I don’t tire. I have been awake for a day and nearly a night, fighting and travelling.” He sighed heavily, his eyes landing on his tent. It was made of white materials and held up but thick wooden poles with naturally hollow interiors. Inside, his tent was laid out with rugs and braziers for warmth, much like Ali’s tent beside it.

The other tents situated along the road and on the hills were primarily of a black material, which made them extremely hot during the day. But since soldiers didn’t need to be within their tents in the day hours, it didn’t bother them. In fact, that heat they gathered up into the day remained inside when the chill nights swept in.

Looking at their tents for a moment longer, Shiro decided he and Ali were afforded luxuries, it seemed. He passed a cook fire where a group of soldiers were laughing around a haunch of sizzling meat over a spit.

“Shiro!”

He turned. It was Ali. Shiro frowned. “Ali?”

Shiro had thought he was still in the city. He came closer and in a lower, somewhat conspiratorial tone, said, “The sultanah has come to the camp.”

Taken aback, Shiro said, “Truly?”

Jessamine smiled as if she were privy to some secret knowledge, though she said nothing.

“It is true,” Ali said. “We are to go to her tent immediately.”

With a nod he followed his friend. “Is Debaku and Razul with her?”

“What? Of course, man.”

“I have not seen them in months it feels.”

Ali laughed. “Do you miss them? It is for the best, Shiro. Razul is infuriating at the best of times. Trust me, I know.”

“He is not the only one,” Jessamine said.

Ali ignored her slight and led Shiro through the tent. They changed paths, walking between tents, and even a wagon filled to overflowing with swords and spears. Men were busy at work fletching arrows, stringing bows and hammering out blades. Much of the same work was done in the sections occupied by the camp followers, but those items were sold to the army at higher prices.

They passed the cook tents, the smell of hot soups, wine, bread and meat filling the air. They made Shiro hungry. Then they came to a packed portion of the camp where Scorpion Guards stood watch between the tents, preventing anyone from sneaking further into this portion of the camp.

Farther up the hill, a small troupe of Scorpion Guards stood watch, spears and bows in their hands. They stool on the dunes without torches to cause night blindness.

The sultanah’s tent was four times the size of Shiro’s. It was white and trimmed in gold where the opening was. Two Scorpion Guards with red sashes and huge scimitars stood watch among the large braziers, their flames crackling and popping in the chill night air.

Shiro had thought it hot, but he had simply worked up a sweat battling his way into the palace and then later dueling with Baracci and his men.

It had been an interesting encounter.

The guards saluted Ali as he entered the tent. Shiro following, and once he was inside, his eyes landed on the large table in the center of the space.

The sultanah was sitting in an ornate wooden chair with a high back, her sand-colored robes trimmed in silver must have cost a fortune.

With furry ears and an assortment of busy tails swishing softly behind her chair, the fushi woman he knew as Shai’na was a sight not often seen in the Abassir Empire. But she had married the previous sultan’s brother, making her the only surviving heir of the dynasty after Darius had conquered the empire by assassination.

“Sultanah,” Shiro said in way of respect as he nodded with his hand flat against his fist. It was not an Abassir custom to press his hands together like that.

Jessamine smiled, but did not make to bow to the sultanah and neither was she chastised for not doing so.

Another man entered behind them and Shiro turned his head to see who it was. The man was tall, lean in a muscular way with a bald pate. He was relatively young, but older than Shiro, with jet black skin.

Shiro’s spirits soared instantly and he smiled as he nodded. Debaku returned the gesture. The Black Cobra of Mar’a Thul had been awarded an honorable position for his part in taking down Darius. And now he was one of the official bodyguards of the sultanah, him—a host of others, and Razul—though Shiro still wasn’t certain Razul was fit for that particular role.

Shai’na stood and glanced about the table to her generals, who wore black robes and heavy turbans. “Shiro, you are acquainted with Azad, Gholam and Kurosh?”

He nodded, though he wasn’t well acquainted with any of them. Shiro did not command armies. He was the grand scout of the army. He rarely needed to deal with any of these men directly, and never with Kurosh, as Ali often met with him for their battle plans.

Ugh, Jessamine conveyed. I should have left you before coming in here! This is going to be so boring.

Then why not do so now?

What, and flaunt by powers? Please, I am a jinni, Shiro. I have more dignity than that.

He raised an eyebrow skeptically.

She crossed her arms in preparation to—as she had inferred—suffer through this meeting. Shiro did not find them tedious, but then he was not always on the lookout for entertainment and a good time as his jinni companion so often was.

Osu! he conveyed.

Amusement came back.

“Now that we are all here,” Shai’na said, “I have something I want to put forward.” She glanced down at the map, her aides and servants trying their best to stay out of the immediate vicinity of the meeting, though a servant did arrive to pour hot tea for everyone.

She then looked at them all. “We are losing this war. Through a slow attrition, the enemy’s forces, which far under number our own, are making headway—have made headway for years now.”

The generals nodded, and so did Ali as the sultanah spoke. Shiro said nothing. He was not a part of this empire during those times.

“We killed the sultan,” Shai’na said. “And though he was a tyrant and a usurper of the throne, he had plans in place to counteract this threat. He was to conquer the northern and western kingdoms to bring new wealth into the empire to combat this increasing threat from over the sea. We cannot act the same—or else we are no better than Darius. We must find an alternate means to achieve victory.”

“Ha!” Ali scoffed. “It’s not like we could conquer the Urutai Steppe or the Ashahnai Empire anyway.”

Oh, it’s Kalina, Shiro thought, recognizing the servant who was passing tea between them. She had been instrumental in defeating Darius. The woman had been in charge of the palace, but more specifically, the sultans haram of women. After Darius had—for years—abused and murdered his women, she was unable to take it any longer, and so made the right decision to aid them when the opportunity had presented itself.

That was when Shiro and his friends infiltrated the palace as Shai’na’s servants during a grand ball, which later turned out to be a trap set by Darius to capture and kill Shiro and his friends, and to prevent them from rescuing Jessamine.

Apparently Kalina had released the Hajja sorcerers during the ruckus in the palace. They had killed many of the Scorpion Guards that would have otherwise overrun them.

Pay attention. Jessamine conveyed. You dragged me in here, remember?

Shiro cleared his throat, and by no intention of his own, the sultanah glanced up at him. “Yes, Shiro?”

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“Ah…”—well he had not meant to gain her attention—“Hai.”

Jessamine conveyed further amusement.

“I wanted to say that I agree with everything you have said.”

She nodded with a smile. “Thank you, Shiro.” She looked at him for a moment, but he said nothing. “Is there anything else?”

An obvious matter came to him as he glanced down at the map, so he nodded.

“Please,” she said.

She is certainly polite for an imperial ruler! the jinni conveyed to him. She’s not used to her position, She was never groomed for the role after Darius took over. Is it any wonder?

This internal conversation was distracting him. He glanced about the room, Ali looking at him expectantly, but with a high level of trust.

Pointing at the map, Shiro said, “We continue to lose ground as the Florencians push us farther and farther north. Eventually they will reach Darshuun and we will have no course but to surrender to their rule.”

A look of displeasure came over Shai’na, so Shiro spoke up quickly. “We must not fight them on their terms. In my own lands, when the capital of my own country was attacked, suddenly and without provocation, it was revealed that the enemy—a legendary general called The Ninth Spear—had planted his forces within the city over the course of several months, smuggling in weapons and supplies, and sneaking out information to him.

“What happened?” Shai’na asked, a look of curiosity on her human facial features as her furry ears flicked back and forth.

“We were… very fortunate in a way. Though we lost our emperor and his first heir to the invaders, another faction of my people seized the opportunity to fight back and defeat this enemy. But we almost lost the war. The enemy’s tactics were brillian. And treacherous.”

Shai’na flicked her ears again and raised an eyebrow. Shiro had no idea what that flicking motion meant on fushi types.

“So you want us to fight treacherously?”

“Hmm,” he noised, looking down at the map. “Treacherously in design, but not devoid of honor. As you said before, sultanah, we must be careful not to follow the path of Darius, or we are no better than him. In my land, we have a soldier for these tasks.”

“Do you?”

“Hai,” he said with a strong nod. “We call them ninja. They fight in the shadows, preferring no to engage their enemies directly without attaining surprise. They watch. They learn. And then they strike.”

Ali raised his hand to his chin thoughtfully. “That sound like the hashshashins of Ashahnai, Shiro.”

“Much the same,” Shiro said, but with more honor.”

“Ha!” he scoffed. “I would like to see a man who waits in the shadows to strike who has honor.”

“You do not believe me?”

“Well…”

Shiro made a growling noise in his throat and a conveyance of amusement flooded into his consciousness.

What? he conveyed with annoyance.

That sound you make when you are thinking. It is quite amusing.

Are you making fun of my cultural ways, jinni?

Why—of course I am.

Shai’na interrupted before Ali could answer. “So what are you suggesting?”

Shiro harrumphed in response to Jessamine.

“What is it?” General Kurosh asked. As the commander of the Scorpion Guard, he was in charge of special situations involving the army.

Shiro had not meant to make that sound aloud. He believed that he would never get used to communicating with Jessamine in their silent way.

They are waiting, she conveyed sardonically. I can sense it in the air.

The Shiro was not unaware of the smirk on Ali’s face. He knew Shiro was having trouble maintaining his composure during multiple conversations taking place at the same time.

“I propose…” Shiro said slowly, and trailed off. They all looked at him expectantly as he glanced down at the map, wondering if the idea that had come to him truly was possible. They could not cut west and encircle the enemy by sea…

The Florencians were far too powerful at sea.

“Say what you want to say, man!” Ali nudged.

“Hai—yes! I propose a quest.” He grabbed one of the carved figures that represented the sultanah’s forces. He then slammed it into the Urmia River, sliding it slowly down… down. “I propose a quest to travel down the Eiphr so that we can”—he grabbed the stick with the flat piece on the end so he could push the figure further down the river—“land behind our enemy’s army. We can then travel to their ports of landing in southern Kalush and wreak havoc with their supply lines.”

“Ah,” Ali said with a nod. “They would have no options but to abandon the capital to deal with the threat.”

By the capital, Ali was talking about Zanjah, the city they were currently encamped outside of while skirmishes still raged within.

“Yes,” Shiro said. “By then, we may completely hold the southern region.”

“Not a bad idea,” Jessamine said aloud.

Shiro glanced at her, along with everyone else in the room. As a jinni, her voice always carried a heavy weight with others, especially everyone in this room. In fact, the sultanah seemed to differ to Jessamine on almost every occasion. Weather that was due to great respect for Jessamine, or because she felt insecure in her role as sultanah, Shiro did not know.

But perhaps it was somewhat of a combination of both things.

“We can capture them between two armies!” Shai’na said, her eyes widening as the generals nodded, though Gholam, grey and in his middle ears, seemed skeptical.

Shai’na laughed. “I was going to propose just such a maneuver, Shiro. I like the way you think. And with Jessamine’s approval, how can I decline such a suggestion?”

She sultanah then clearly realized that Gholam did not think the same as everyone else. She made a sound of frustration. “Oh, what is it, Gholam?”

Shiro forced himself to maintain a straight face and to not raise his eyebrow at the sultanah’s reaction.

“The Eiphr is deadly,” he said, indicating Urmia with his finger, which, when it reached the far southern portions of the map, became the Eiphr. “No one who travels that way has ever gone as far south as Shiro is suggesting. Many who do never return.”

“You just said no one has ever gone that far,” Ali added.

Gholam was not amused at his nitpicking. “Which is to say that we do not know if anyone has ever reached the end of the Eiphr or not!”

Ali shrugged, as if to admit it was a fair point. “And then there is the Urghawan Oasis. This place is even more uncharted than the river. He shook his head. No one goes into Avarnis for a reason. It is cursed land.”

“Superstition,” Shai’na said. “Dangerous, yes, but not impenetrable.”

“You understand,” Gholam said, “that if we lose our army in the river, or in the oasis—hells, or even in the desert beyond—which we would have to cross to make it back to Kalush—than this war will be over?”

“This war is already over,” Shai’na said. “If we continue on our present course, the Florencians will continue to advance until they take the capital. There is now whispers of them having spies in the capital.”

“Truly?” Ali asked. “But how do these foreigners sneak about with their milky skin and their accents?”

Jessamine made an exceedingly sarcastic-looking face, but held her tongue. But to make sure she didn’t say anything snide, Shiro quickly added, “There are those who would sell their country for gold.”

“And their souls,” General Azad added, speaking for the first time. “Devils.”

“They are rumors,” Shai’na said. “But we cannot discount the possibility. This is why I have been kept under heavy guard ever since taking power.”

“Are you truly considering this, my sultanah?” Gholam asked. He looked, at least to Shiro, to be very disappointed with this turn of events.

She nodded. “I am. I need to know the opinions of everyone in this room. If you object, tell me why. Gholam, you have raised excellent points, as have you, Ali al Bashur. But if I am to be dissuaded from this course of action, you will have to come up with more.”

She looked at them critically, her eyes roving about each of their faces in turn. Gholam sighed, but otherwise no one else made any objections—and neither did Debaku, who never weighed in on strategy. He was no war leader. He was an assassin, a swordman, and a previously jinni bonded adventurer.

And now a bodyguard.

“Then we are to proceed with my plan,” Shai’na finally added.

“But,” Ali said. “Shiro seemed to come to the same conclusion as yourself, Sultanah. What if these Florencian dogs have come to the same conclusion as well?”

“They may have built up defenses against such an attack,” Gholam added.

“There is too much territory for them to cover to adequately defend against this attack, and you well know it,” Shai’na said. “We are mustering all the forces we can into the south. When you arrive at their flank, they will become confused and panicked. Their morale will sink very low.”

“Hopefully,” Ali said.

“You doubt it?”

He looked at her and hesitated. “No,” he said with a mild bow. “But we must be prepared for any event.”

She nodded. “I agree with you. If you have to, then you can retreat back into Avarnis.”

“We do not know enough about the territory,” Gholam said. “We could be cut to pieces just getting out—if we even make it out. Going back in could be a death sentence for the entire second army.”

“In war…” Shiro said. “Much must be risked. But not at the expense of recklessness.”

“Then I leave it to you, my generals and advisors to come up with a way to mitigate the risks. Shiro, what do you propose?”

Narrowing his eyes—

I hate it when you do that.

Ignoring Jessamine, he said, “We can send a scouting force of powerful adventurers to learn of the troubles ahead and to decide if we can overcome them. If we cannot, we turn back. But if we can…”

“Then we go forward,” Shai’na said.

He nodded.

“How far forward?” Shai’na asked.

It would have to be far enough to adequately warn any approaching force of the dangers. Moving large bodies of men about the world was no easy task—and not a quick one, either.

“At least a few days,” Ali said musingly.

The generals nodded, somewhat placated by this suggestion. In the end, they always worried about the state of the army. They were good general, and had served Darius well. They seemed to have no objections to Shai’na’s rise to sultanah, as well they should not.

Their jobs were to keep the army in good standing, to win wars—and ultimately to protect the empire. Shiro wondered if General Mushkah would have behaved in the same manner. But he had died during the assault on the palace when the Hajja sorcerers were released.

“Then it is settled,” Shai’na said. “I want this plan enacted. Azad and Gholam will remain here in Zanjah to defend the city and to muster our forces for a push south. General Kurosh, you will take the Scorpion Guard into Avarnis. You will be under the command of Ali, but Shiro… will lead this endeavor.”

Shiro’s eyes shot open.

Oooh! Jessamine conveyed excitedly. Now that’s interesting…

Spluttering slightly, he said, “Me?”

“Yes,” Shai’na said. “It is your plan, is it not?”

“But why me?” he asked. “I am no top-tier adventurer.”

Jessamine grinned, a secret in her smile.

“I think Jessamine disagrees,” Shai’na said, a smile of her own coming to her face. She turned to the jinni. “Don’t you?”

“Don’t worry,” Jessamine said silkily. “Shiro can handle this. And if he can’t,” she said, sounding like she was speaking to a baby, “then I’ll just have to help him along.”

Shai’na actually chortled then as Shiro looked glanced toward Jessamine. Annoying jinni.. She knew he was not be pleased, and yet she had spoken anyway. Inwardly he sighed.

“Sultanah,” Debaku said from in the dark as he stepped forward. “I am a famed adventurer. I apologize, but I wish to make a request to join him in this quest.”

“I fully intend that you do join him, my loyal bodyguard. You and Razul al Bashur.”

“Raz?” Ali asked in astonishment. “But why?”

Shai’na shrugged. “I doubt I could keep him in the palace anyway. The man is a rogue—a free spirit that I, nor possibly any ruler, can control. I mean, really…”—she gestured with her hand—“is he even here?”

With an apologetic shrug, Ali chuckled. “He does do his own thing, Sultanah. I must apologize for his behavior.”

“He is what he is,” she said. “And he has sworn me no allegiance.”

“But…”

“Yes, I’ve awarded him gifts aplenty, Ali al Bashur—but that was for his service in the palace when you and your friends ended Darius’ rule. He did almost die, after all.”

She tuned to the rest of them. “Now—all of you prepare. This undertaking will be the failing of the empire, or it will be the start of our glorious new age, one of peace and prosperity. Who knows… maybe after we’ll even attain peace with the Urutai Steppe lords and that of the Ashahnai Imperials.”

“Not likely,” Ali said dubiously.

“We won’t know,” Shai’na said, “until we finish this war in the south.”

Shiro nodded, hoping that the sultanah’s aspirations could come true. He may not be an Abassir man, but he was becoming fond of these lands—of Darshuun and the culture here.

As the table began to dissolve, Shai’na spoke to Ali, but Shiro only caught a glimpse of what was said as he pushed through the tent flap and past the guards.

“My wife is here?!”

Shiro smirked just as Jessamine giggled.

With a heavy sigh, Shiro walked across the sand, his stomach rumbling. On the horizon a subtle orange glow had appeared. He felt disappointed that he wasn’t going to get any sleep at all, since night was coming to an end.

“I need food if I am going to be planning a quest.”

“Awe,” Jessamine said, sounding like she was speaking to a little boy. “You poor thing, Shiro.”

“Leave me be,” he said. “You are a jinni, you do not need—“

“Whaaat?” she said incredulously.

He looked at her. “I am sorry. I meant to say that you are a jinni and often you do not have to exert yourself at all hours of the day. You can retreat back into your lamp.”

She laughed. “Retreat? Oh, please, Shiro.”

He rubbed his eyes and sighed.

“Shiro!” Ali hissed from behind.

The samurai turned around to find an alarmed look on his friend’s face.

“Shiro, you have to help me, man!”

“Wha—“

“Hafza is here! Gods—she’s here, you infidel! You have to help me!”

Jessamine sniffed incredulously but said nothing.

With a final sigh, Shiro mustered his energy and forced a smile on his face. “Yes, of course I will help you. What do you want me to do?”