“Timur!?” One of the middle-aged men standing just a half step behind the old man cried out. His eyes went from Laz to Lucian and back and seemed to realize that he’d made a mistake. How could there be two of one man?
For a moment, the entire room seemed unsure of what to do. Aside from the old man on his knees, sobbing as he bowed his head to the twins, no one said a word. Beks furrowed her brows and looked around. The two middle-aged men beside the old man stood stunned for another few more counts before they seemed to snap out of their stupor and rushed to help the old man up.
“What are you doing? Bow to the prince!” The old man grabbed their arms with his bony hands and pulled them down. “Call him Great General or Your Highness!”
The certainty, relief, and hint of sadness in the old man’s voice broke Beks’ heart. She blinked as her eyes reddened. She turned her gaze to the twins. Their formerly hardened expressions had fallen as they seemed to have come to the same conclusion Beks had.
The old man didn’t know that Uncle Timur had died.
Lucian clenched his jaw. He shut his eyes for a moment before taking a step forward. “Elder, do not do this.”
“I must! I must! You’re finally back!” The old man both cried out and laughed bitterly.
Laz’s face twisted with sadness and Lucian turned back and gave him a helpless expression. The old man refused to get up, but the two middle-aged men beside him wouldn’t stop trying to urge him to rise. Laz closed the distance between them and knelt down.
“Elder, please stand,” Laz said, his voice softening, but still holding a great deal of respect. “Elder, please look at us.”
There was almost a plea in his voice.
Beks watched the other two older men. One had fixed his gaze on the twins and seemed to go through an array of silent emotions. First surprise, then with the color draining from his face, fear, and finally pain in his dark eyes.
“How do you know the Great General?” The man’s voice was slow and firm, but there was a slight tremble in it, as if he weren’t sure if he wanted to know the answer.
At this, the other middle-aged man lifted his head, turning his attention from the old man prostrated on the floor to the twins. He drew his head back as his brows furrowed. The same fleeting expression flashed across his face; dismay, fear, and then hurt. It seemed he figured it out, too.
After nearly thirty years, Uncle Timur would not have looked so young as to appear in his mid-twenties, as the twins were. Second, they were identical twins. Uncle Timur’s only sibling was female and over a decade older than him.
The old man on the floor heard the first man’s questions and frowned. His head shot up and he glared at one of the men.
“What are you saying? The Great General has returned! He’s come back to us! We can finally be of use again!”
“Lucian.” Laz looked towards his brother and tapped the corner of his eye. Lucian covered his eyes with his palm and when he removed them, his blue eyes had returned. He repeated the same to Laz.
“Keep them open,” he said in a quiet voice. When he removed his hand from Laz’s face, blue eyes were revealed. Laz tried again.
“Elder, please,” Laz encouraged once more, the plea in his voice stronger. “Look at us.”
The old man wore an admonishing look on his face before turning back. He lifted his head and fixed his gaze on the two men kneeling in front of him with identical faces. His eyes darted from one to the other before his shoulders shook moreso and he let out a choked cry.
“Gerard, bring him a chair,” Laz said from the floor. No one in the room stopped Gerard from grabbing the fanciest chair there and carrying it closer. He put it down nearby. Beks caught Laz sweeping the room with his eyes. The soldiers had pulled back their weapons, but were still alert. Laz looked at the two older men on either side of the old man. “Bring him to the chair.”
It wasn’t a request; it was an order and Beks wanted to nod in approval. Laz needed to show authority and he knew that as a Battalion Commander.
He and Lucian stepped back. The stunned old man’s regretful eyes remained on them as he was pulled up on his unsteady feet and led to the chair Gerard had brought closer. As he sat down, his red eyes were rimmed with tears.
It was painful to watch.
The twins looked unsure of where to begin and how to speak to the crying old man. Beks lowered her head. She didn’t know how much the twins knew about their father’s past, or of the people in their father’s life before he was married, but Beks had a clue. She had several years’ worth of stories to reference. Perhaps it was not her place to intervene, but her men were at a loss and they needed her.
Beks swallowed hard, her mind running through all the ‘characters’ Uncle Timur had mentioned before finally settling on one who fit the profile of the older man in front of him. A man who would address Uncle Timur first as His Highness had been Uncle Timur’s mentor, and a former vassal of the Tuvanak Clan.
“Elder, are you Master Bilguun?”
At this, Laz and Lucian seemed to take a sharp breath. They recognized the name. The old man blinked back his tears and squinted, looking past the twins and at her. After a moment of appearing to assess her, he gave Beks a small nod of his head.
“I am,” he said in a tight voice. “Who are you, young lady?”
“Master Bilguun,” Laz said, drawing the old man’s attention to him. “She is our wife.”
“Wife!” The old man’s brows shot up. He looked at Beks and then looked at them. “And you two....?” He seemed to want their confirmation.
“My name is Lazarus dun Kadmus and this is my younger twin brother, Lucian dun Kadmus,” Laz said, first giving the old man a respectful bow before motioning to his brother at his side.
“Master Bilguun.” Lucian bowed his head, as well.
Laz stood up straight. “Our Langsher names are Gan and Jargal.”
Lucian stood beside his brother and took a deep breath. “Our father was Timur.”
“Your father....” Master Bilguun’s voice was breathy. His eyes moistened once more and he looked at them. “And where is your father?”
Laz and Lucian hesitated before Laz answered. “Adah has passed on, Master Bilguun.”
The old man’s eyes shut and he slumped back into the seat, as if he’d just been told his child died. He had entered the room so regally, filled with confidence and authority, but now he looked deflated and frail.
His lips trembled and his trembling voice whispered. “When?”
Laz’s eyes slowly began to redden. “Seventeen years ago.”
Master Bilguun took a deep breath. “And how?”
This time, Laz let out a small, bitter, and angry laugh. “A riding accident.”
“Impossible!” The middle-aged man to the left of the old master had almost been forgotten until he cried out. He whirled around and pounded his fist on a table before turning around, refusal to accept their answer written all over his face. “Timur was an excellent equestrian! How can he possibly die while riding....” His voice trailed off as he seemed to see not only the sadness on the faces of the twins and Beks, but the lingering anger. He narrowed his eyes. “They killed him.”
It was a bold assumption, and Beks couldn’t meet his eyes. Though she was in Kadmium when it happened, she hadn’t witnessed it. In fact, she was the last of the Gilded Palace’s residents at the time to find out that her much loved uncle who had promised to continue his bedtime story for her that night had died.
Lucian grit his teeth. His fists were pale at his side. “We tried to find proof, but the entire scene had been trampled on. We couldn’t trace anything, but we do have a suspect.”
He didn’t have to say the name for Beks to know he was talking about the Third Consort. Even if he were her then fiancé’s father, she had the same reaction as that man and couldn’t believe Uncle Timur had died on a horse, and was certain it was set up. It’s just that at the time, she was seven years old with no real power, and everyone told her it had been an accident.
Master Bilguun lifted his tired head and looked at the two identical men in front of him. “How old are you two?”
“We are twenty-eight,” Laz replied.
This seemed to wound the old man further. “You were just children....” He took in a shallow, shaking breath before raising one arm and lazily waving it towards the soldiers. “Everyone leave. I need to speak to them.”
The soldiers hesitate for the moment, giving Laz and the others looks of warning before marching out.
Laz glanced at Gerard and Gerard nodded.
“Efran.” He called the youngest over to follow and Efran nodded. Beks gave a nod to the Thirnir and was about to follow, but Lucian stopped her.
“Beks, you should stay,” he said in a serious voice. She nodded and the Thirnir stopped where they were. If she weren’t leaving, neither would they.
Beks motioned her head to the door. “I’ll be fine. Remain outside with Gerard and Efran.”
“Then, we will be right outside, my lady,” Rid Callan said before hitting his fist to his chest. The other two Thirnir saluted her and walked outside.
The two middle aged men seemed to want to urge Beks to leave, but Master Bilguun told them to bring chairs for the two princes and their wife. If there was a table between them, the old man would’ve been seated at the head while on his right, the two middle-aged men, and on his left sat Laz, Lucian, and Beks.
“Gan,” the old man said, looking at Laz. “After your father.” Laz gave him a nod to acknowledge this. “And Jargal. Your mother’s name was Letizia.”
“Yes, Master.”
The old man smiled a bit and nodded. “So, he named you after your mother.” He then turned to Beks and glanced at the twins. “What is your wife’s name? Introduce her properly,” Master Bilguun told them.
“I am Rebecca of Caroline.” Before Laz could introduce her, Beks stood up and bowed the way she remembered Uncle Timur taught her for when she met Langshe dignitaries. “I wish good health and prosperity to Master Bilguun.”
The old man nodded in approval. “How did you recognize me, Rebecca of Caroline?”
“Uncle Timur used to tell me stories about his life when he was younger, before he was married. You are his respected master and former vassal of his maternal clan.”
The old man’s eyes seemed to smile, finding out that his pupil had spoken well of him. “Take a seat, Your Highness.” Beks returned to her seat and Master Bilguun turned to the twins, his smile fading as his voice strained. “Tell me the truth...how did your father die?”
Beks lowered her eyes.
She hadn’t been in the area when it happened, nor could she or the twins prove it wasn’t an accident, but she knew how the events of that moment happened.
As Uncle Timur had come from an equestrian background, he had been in charge of selecting and sorting the horses bred for the military. Every year, a batch of young horses was sent from Green Meadows, the royal husbandry farm, to a paddock compound just outside of Kadmium for Uncle Timur and other officials to check.
By the time those horses had arrived, they had to have been at least a year old and started training. Supposedly, no one knew how it happened, but a wild stock of horses was part of the batch that arrived.
Forced into a new place and surrounded by new people spooked those wild horses who wanted nothing more than to escape. There had been plenty of handlers present, but no one was prepared for those wild horses to essentially go crazy. The young horses that had been bred scattered, becoming agitated and on the cusp of joining in on the violence.
No one seemed to be able to control those wild horses.
Uncle Timur had rushed to help. If the horses couldn’t be controlled, they’d be shot with arrows and then killed at once.
The details Beks had of what exactly transpired was vague. All she, and the twins apparently, knew was that Uncle Timur had managed to mount one of the horses to lead him away from the herd and calm it down. Everything seemed to be going well, but the other wild horses followed.
They continued to buck and kick.
Perhaps it was because the horse had been going crazy that the saddle had never been secured correctly, or at all, in retrospect.
Uncle Timur had been thrown off.
From there, some sources say another horse hit him in the head. Others said it was worse and he was trampled. Beks didn’t believe that, as she’d seen his body in one piece. It was likely that the official report was correct.
Uncle Timur had been thrown off and landed terribly, breaking his neck upon impact. They could not save him.
Beks looked down at the floor in front of her. As Laz spoke in the background, her eyes reddened. Sometime in the midday it happened, Beks had heard commotion coming from outside her courtyard. She had been reading and slightly distracted, as Uncle Timur was supposed to get to the climactic battle of her storybook that night and she was looking forward to it.
No one had come to tell her that the man who promised her he’d ‘finish the story’ the night before had died.
The late Queen had rushed to the paddock as soon as she heard. Brother Laurence had stayed behind, but gone to take care of the twins, which made sense. No one seemed to pay attention to Beks perhaps because she wasn’t blood related to the man.
It was Luther, of all people, who came that afternoon to ask if she was all right because she was close to Uncle Timur. Beks hadn’t understood what he meant and he told her that ‘the Second Consort’ had gotten into an accident and died. Beks had been stunned and initially refused to believe it.
Everyone knew that Uncle Timur was a born and bred equestrian.
Beks had been shielded from official news until the late Queen came to her, haggard and shaken, to tell her what happened. At once, Beks had rushed to comfort the twins despite herself red-faced and crying, still unable to believe Uncle Timur was gone. The twins weren’t in their courtyard. No one had told her that they’d already begun holding vigil over their father.
She remembered running across the royal grounds in her sleep clothes, to the royal cathedral to find her beloved uncle, who had taken care of her as if she were his own child since the day she arrived in Kadmium, lifeless in a sarcophagus.
Seven-year-old Beks’ cries filled the cathedral as she begged the dead man to wake up, reminding him that he promised her he’d finish the story.
Seventeen years and she remembered it as vividly as if it had happened the day before. She supposed having such an excellent memory wasn’t always that great.
She shut her eyes and tried to force herself to focus on Laz, Lucian, and the three men with them as the twins explained their life experiences after their father had passed.
Anger and resentment crossed the faces of those men as Beks reached to hold Lucian’s hand and squeeze it. When the twins were done, the men seemed unsure of how to react outside of despair and frustration.
The man closest to Master Bilguun, the Red Iron Cavalry's Left Commander Weirun Lu, was distraught, appearing as if he’d just aged from moments earlier.
“Once a year since we arrived, Timur would send us a message via a messenger eagle he’d trained. One year, it stopped....” He shut his eyes and let out a low breath. “We should’ve known then.”
“No,” Master Bilguun said in a hoarse voice. “In our heads, we knew when contact was severed, but our hearts didn’t want to believe it. We always hoped he’d return.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t come sooner,” Laz told them. “Adah had told us that the Red Iron Cavalry had been disbanded, not hidden away.”
The man furthest from Master Bilguun, the Right Commander, Feiyun Khan, shook his head. “In the eyes of everyone except the Empress, the Red Iron Cavalry was too strong and shouldn’t have been in the hands of Timur, who was marrying into Kadmus. To quell concerns and possible threats, we had to be officially disbanded.”
“But the talisman was never returned,” the Left Commander replied.
“No.” The old man corrected them at once. “It wasn’t that it wasn’t returned. The Empress Saran refused to take it and ordered Prince Timur to hold it as insurance; in case someone tried to overthrow her or her heir. That is why they hid us.”
Beks perked up. She really wanted to know. “How did you enter the Forbidden Valley and come all the way here?” Surely, they couldn’t have made their way through a cave system. There were thousands of people and horses.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
The two commanders gave her a wary look, but Master Bilguun’s eyes remained gentle when he looked at her. “I am sorry, but we are bound to secrecy...Beks.” She raised a brow at her nickname, wondering if he picked it up from when Lucian called her name. His eyes brightened a bit. “Prince Timur wrote about you.”
She drew her head back, surprised, then blushed a bit. “He did?” Admittedly, she was a bit flattered that not only did Uncle Timur care to mention her to his trusted master, but that his master bothered to remember her and called her by her nickname.
The old man chuckled, amused by her expression. “My pupil spoke lovingly of his wife’s foster daughter; the daughter he wanted and never had, he had written It seems that since you are here now, speaking in Langsher, and married to Timur’s sons, he did not love you in vain.”
A rush of emotion filled Beks despite herself. Outwardly, she didn’t lose her composure, but her eyes reddened. She didn’t know that today was the day she’d miss her uncle so much.
Despite Master Bilguun’s words, the two other men were unmoved and stilled eyed her with suspicion. They looked towards the twins.
“Now that you are here, someone must’ve told you,” the Right Commander said. “To our knowledge, only the Empress and Timur knew we were hidden in the Forbidden Valley.”
Lucian met his eyes. “Our aunt, the Empress Saran, has passed.”
“It was our cousin, the Crown Prince Zhanzhin, who told us of the Red Iron Cavalry’s existence,” Laz told them.
The old man frowned at once. He sat up straight, his body tense as his brows knit. “What do you mean ‘Crown Prince’? If the Empress passed, he should now be the Emperor.”
Beks swore that the temperature in the room not only dropped, but the space darkened a bit. She glanced at the twins and noticed their clenched jaws.
“Tarkan tried to assassinate our Geel when he was returning to see his dying mother.” Beks answered for them and the three older men snapped their gazes towards her, surprised.
“He would dare?” The Left Commander scowled. “I always knew that Tarkan couldn’t be trusted.”
“We also do not know if Auntie’s illness was natural or if it was instigated,” Lucian said. “It was a prolonged illness. Geel said that after they first noticed it, she deteriorated quickly. He was rushing to take over and followed her orders to lead the court to the Equinox Palace while she remained in the Summer Palace, unable to travel. When her health was failing and it was unsure if she would live another few days, Geel rushed back.”
“His caravan was intercepted and he was forced to flee from the empire by boat with the help of his guards,” Laz told them. “They were chased by several assassins on the way and in the end, Geel arrived by himself to Aceria-.”
“He went to the Wealth Vaults!” The Left Commander sat up straight in his seat.
Laz narrowed his eyes at the older man. “It seems you know why he’d go there.”
At that, the Left Commander seemed to lean back a bit, but tried to keep his regal figure. The Right Commander looked at the twins.
“Did the Crown Prince send you to lead us?”
Laz nodded. “Yes, though regaining the Langshe throne for Geel is only part of it. The Red Iron Cavalry will be needed for more.”
Beks studied the expressions of the three men as Laz didn’t hide the fact that they needed the cavalry to help take the throne from Kadmus from their Fourth Brother. Laz continued to say that it wasn’t that their Fourth Brother was so capable, but his father, the Third Consort had always been.
It seemed that the older men had heard of the Third Consort and collectively sneered.
“There is also the newest Oracle that we have to contend with,” Lucian said. “And with her, comes the Temple.”
“You were trained as a priest, yet you’d go against the Temple?” the Right Commander asked with a raised brow.
Lucian didn’t shy away from his suspicious look. “They tried to kill me. They chased my brother and I until we could only hide in the Forbidden Valley and survive with what Adah taught us years ago.” He narrowed his eyes. “And even if they didn’t, I lived at the Great Temple. I know how cruel they are behind their glistening white marble columns and incensed prayers.”
Though he said this, the two commanders didn’t seem to show any strong support. They appeared neutral. Most people would’ve shown sympathy, especially to the children of their friend; and Beks firmly believed these men were Uncle Timur’s friends from the way they referred to him without an honorific.
She was doubtful of their neutral expressions. She was sure they were holding back.
Laz frowned a bit. “We came to ask if the Red Iron Cavalry would leave the Forbidden Valley to aid us.”
Beks held her breath and narrowed her eyes. Lucian leaned forward, but Laz held his composure and seemed to be almost assessing those men.
Master Bilguun lowered his head. He let out a low, helpless sigh and shook his head once. “We are sympathetic to the needs of His Imperial Highness, as well as to your struggles in Kadmus, Your Highnesses, but we cannot leave.”
“But you know a way out, don’t you?” Lucian asked.
“That is irrelevant,” Master Bilguun replied. “Even if walking out of those gates from which you entered led us directly to the plains again, we cannot leave.”
“The Red Iron Cavalry is only moved by one person,” the Right Commander told him as he lifted his chin defiantly.
Lucian squinted. “Are you saying you plan to spend the rest of your lives here in the Forbidden Valley?”
“It isn’t so bad,” the old man said with some weariness. “I spent a lifetime fighting battles. Rest in the countryside is peaceful.”
Beks narrowed her eyes at once. “If it’s so peaceful, why are you still wearing your uniforms and training outside?” Her sharp voice caused several eyes to turn to her, but she didn’t shrink back. She held their gazes with cold, demanding eyes. “Upon entering, we passed the entire length of this plateau to reach this building, and we saw how active your training facilities are. Not only that, but you had active smiths, leather craftsmen, and even a husbandry farm.
“Why are all these needed just to rest? You know and I know that the Red Iron Cavalry didn’t come here to die. They came here to wait until they were of use again!”
She threw the old man’s words right back at him. Instead of being insulted, she saw the glint of joy on his face, as if thinking that she understood.
The Left and Right Commanders didn’t correct her, either. The two relaxed their posture, but gave her a knowing look.
“Princess, we agree with you,” the Left Commander told her. “You are correct. We didn’t come here to die. We are here to wait, but we made a vow.”
“We must wait for the Great General’s heirs,” the Right Commander said.
Beks motioned her arm towards the twins to her right. “They are here.”
The Left Commander shook his head. “They are Timur’s sons, yes. I can tell at a glance even with their blue eyes, but they are not the heirs to the Red Iron Cavalry.”
“His Highness retained proof of command. If his two sons are indeed his heirs, they will have that proof.”
Beks lifted her arms. One hand grabbed the hem of her collar while the other prepared to reach into her cleavage in a fit of irritation. Laz held out his arm across Lucian and her to stop her. He kept his eyes on the three older men across from them.
“What sort of proof do you need?” he asked. He wanted them to say the tiger talisman.
However, the older men weren’t so foolish as to reveal it. Master Bilguun gave them a disappointed look. “If you do not know, then it means you are not the heir.”
Beks rolled her eyes. She had enough of this. They had to mobilize the cavalry and this conversation was delaying them.
Ignoring Laz’s hand, she reached into her cleavage and grasped the iron and mother-of-pearl figurine that she’d shoved into her cleavage for safekeeping. She didn’t care if there were strange men there or that they were her elders. They had things to do.
She pulled the hand-sized black and white figurine from her chest and held it out in front of them. All three older men shot up from their seats, their eyes fixed on the tiger talisman in her hand.
Beks’ movement had been so fast that they couldn’t turn away despite her rather rude reveal.
“Is this enough proof for you?” she asked as she stood up and moved it closer.
The Left Commander’s jaw dropped a bit as he stared at the item with disbelief. “She...she holds....”
“The tiger talisman....” The Right commander seemed equally stunned. He then threw his head back and seemed unwilling before finally allowing his head to drop. He looked at the Left Commander and the two men began to kneel before her.
“Glory and honor to you, Young General,” they chorused at the same time.
Beks and the old man looked at them as if they were idiots.
Master Bilguun let out a heavy breath and ran his hand down his wrinkled face. “She is just carrying it, you fools! That doesn’t mean she’s the heir!” He slammed his hands on the arms of the chair, startling the two dumbfounded commanders. “You don’t even know if it’s real!”
That was understandable. Beks walked towards the old man. “Master, please check if it’s authentic.”
The old man raised his arms and leaned back, shaking his head in clear refusal. “I am afraid I cannot do that, Your Highness. It isn’t that it needs to be checked by others. There is only one way to prove its authenticity.” He looked towards the twins. “It must be proven by the heirs.”
Laz glanced at the tiger still in Bek’s hands and frowned. “How do we prove it?”
“Father left us clues on where to go to come here, as well as hid half of this in each of our vaults, but there was no other clue,” Lucian said. “Certainly, nothing about proving its authenticity.”
Master Bilguun chuckled sadly. “If you don’t know, how can you be heirs.”
Laz rolled his eyes. “Not this again.”
“Then attaining the tiger talisman was for nothing?” Lucian asked.
“You are halfway there.”
Laz almost sneered. “Does this mean we can at least use half the cavalry?”
The old man chuckled once more, but didn’t answer.
Beks moved the tiger talisman intently in her hands, her fingers touching each piece of metal and mother-of-pearl between them. She wracked her brain to figure out how the twins could prove the items’ authenticity. She’d been with them and seen all the clues; none of them mentioned anything about proving authenticity. The old man seemed to know, but if their determination to not even mention the tiger talisman was any indication, he wouldn’t tell them how to prove authenticity even if he died.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that since it had been split apart, it needed to be activated by both twins holding it as Uncle Timur split it between his sons. However, she’d seen the twins touch it both individually and at the same time, and nothing had happened.
They hadn’t gotten it to split apart, it didn’t make any sounds even when the metal strips were inside of it, nor did it show any other sign like move or glow.
Her brows shot up. Her fingers touched the mother-of-pearl enamel and her hand began to shake with anticipation. Her voice was steady. “By any chance, did Uncle Timur have any biha?” She didn’t remember him using it nor talking about it, but the twins had biha.
The two identical men frowned and shook their heads, but an old, scratchy voice replied.
“Yes.” Even the Left and Right Commander looked towards Master Bilguun with surprise, who’s smile had almost doubled when Beks asked. “His Highness’ biha well wasn’t very large, and he didn’t use it. Prince Timur was always targeted. The last Empress told him not to tell anyone so as not to attract more trouble.”
While the remaining men looked surprised, Beks found that she wasn’t. In addition, Master Bilguun had known Uncle Timur the longest and mentored him. Even if Uncle Timur didn’t tell him, the master would’ve noticed.
However, that didn’t matter at the moment.
Beks moved in front of Laz and Lucian. She put the tiger talisman in Laz’s good hand, having him pinch the head. She then grasped Lucian’s hand and had him hold on to the tiger’s rear legs. The two didn’t move and let her do what she wanted without question, like mannequins.
Beks stepped to the side, her eyes still fixed on the tiger figure. Laz opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off with a simple order.
“Release biha.”
Realization filled their faces immediately.
Beks barely registered an old man crying with joy behind her as she watched the hand-sized tiger figurine’s black and white mother-of-pearl emitting light.
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She wasn’t the best chess player, but she had some confidence in her abilities. However, Master Bilguun was called a ‘master’ for a reason. The old man’s eyes were crinkled into pleased crescents as he moved the piece and beamed. “I win.”
“I’m not surprised,” Beks replied in a dull voice. “You’ve beaten me again, Master.”
Master Bilguun chuckled. “Don’t be so rough on yourself, Beks. Very few people in the world can beat me!” He laughed proudly. “Even your beloved Uncle Timur could not.”
Beks leaned back against her seat. That admonition did make her feel somewhat better.
For the last week, Beks would play a round or two with the old man after lunch and before she went on her rounds around the plateau. Aside from trying to soak up whatever information she could while visiting different sites within the plateau, being introduced to different teams, and learning the overall structure of the cavalry, Beks had been trying to figure out the exit process from the plateau.
Though the Old Master and the Left and Right Commanders were hesitant to tell her, as she was just the ‘wife’ of the twins, Laz and Lucian approved, saying they never would’ve found the Red Iron Cavalry again without Beks.
The migration process happened thirty years ago, but Uncle Timur seemed to have planned much earlier than that.
“How did Uncle Timur even think to come here?” Beks said. Two boys served them tea as they sat beneath rustling leaves of a large tree within the courtyard. The boys were related to the Right Commander, Beks was told.
Master Bilguun took a deep breath and leaned back against his seat. He looked past Bek’s head and his eyes glazed over. “It is unfortunate, but it was because of fear and paranoia.”
Beks paused and cocked her head to the side. Those were two words she didn’t associate with her uncle, as the man had always seemed confident. “Uncle Timur?”
“You must consider how he grew up,” Master Bilguun said with some pain in his eyes. “Prince Timur was a young prince who lost his mother and was raised by his sister, who was struggling to keep them alive in the back palace. Though he was one of the younger princes, and motherless, and lacking a maternal clan, there were those who didn’t want him to reach adulthood at all.
“Many people wanted his life. Sometimes it was for assurance that another prince wouldn’t grow to one day challenge the older ones for the throne. For others, they were afraid that he would resurrect the Tuvanak Clan. And other times, it was because his elder sister was a strong contender to the throne and they wanted to get to her through him. Your uncle had many attempts on his life.”
Beks felt her stomach churn and her chest tightened. While she believed it considering Uncle Timur’s situation, if she didn’t know and could only base her observation on what she knew of Uncle Timur, then she wouldn’t believe that he’d had such a difficult life. “Uncle was so kind and good....”
Master Bilguun gave her a fond look. “Yes...amazingly so for someone who grew up in the environment he did. It is a testament to the late Empress Saran that he was as kind as he was. It is a shame that others could not understand that. He found the entrance we used to enter the Forbidden Valley because of an assassination attempt.”
Beks drew her lips inward and her eyes lowered. “I can only imagine how many he’d faced.”
The old man’s face turned distant and he took a long, deep breath. “Too many, my child. Too many. He risked so much....” He closed his eyes, as if to deal with the pain of his lost pupil. “Prince Timur never let his guard down when it came to the royal family. Knowing what happened to his mother’s clan made him and his sister wary. He was determined to have a sort of escape plan should they try to overthrow his sister.”
Beks raised a brow. “The Forbidden Valley became his escape plan?”
Master Bilguun smiled at her. “Prince Timur knew that no matter how powerful one was, it didn’t guarantee their safety. He was determined to find a place where they would be safe, and because of this, his obsession led us here. The process of entering the Forbidden Valley was surprisingly simple once the problems were addressed. We entered by walking over the Vents of the Underworld.“
The story itself was both simple and unbelievable when they first told her. Thousands of people and animals crossed the Vents of the Underworld because Uncle Timur noticed that birds could fly over the area.
Those heavy fumes and heat were heavy, so they did not reach a certain height. The theory was if the air was clear at a certain height, then traveling at that height would avoid the toxicity and heat.
“That boy was almost obsessed with finding a way through once he realized birds could fly over,” Master Bilguun told her. “Everyone thought he’d lost his mind sending animals across the Vents, but he was determined to find out how high those fumes and heat went. Who would’ve thought that his efforts would pay off?” The old man lifted two fingers in front of her. “The height of two men combined: as tall as a house in Equinox City! That’s how high the toxic fumes and heat go before being unable to rise further. He sent out his favorite hawk, having it fly lower and lower, until it finally refused to fly at a low altitude due to the fumes and heat.”
“But how did he know to go to the Forbidden Valley? Everyone knows it’s dangerous. The animals are terrifying, the water can’t be drunk, and even the plants could kill you.”
Master Bilguun stroked his beard and shook his head. “I believe he was determined to enter here because he knew no one would try to enter, but he was convinced it was livable because he read about a valley used for farming hidden in the high mountains. He kept saying that this place used to be part of some long forgotten ancient civilization.”
Beks froze in her seat and tried to keep her face neutral. “Where did he read that?”
Master Bilguun shook his head. “I don’t know. It certainly wasn’t from the Tuvanak Clan. I suspected he found some obscure book about it at one of the Imperial Residences. After all, the imperial family kept historical records from their establishment, which is far longer than any other of the other countries on the continent.”
Beks nodded her head slowly. That was true. The first actual country, not just a tribe with land, on the continent was Langshe. Did that mean that somewhere in Langshe’s libraries, there was a book noting the existence of Ancient Gurani?
“Based on that, he felt there was some way to survive here?”
“Whenever he could, he would run to the Forbidden Valley to try to find it’s ‘secrets’, as he used to call them.” Master Bilguun let out a small snort. “In the end, he found that the fastest way to get to the Forbidden Valley and lose anyone chasing them was to cut through the Vents of the Underworld. In the southernmost point, when the landscape changes from the subtropical forests, and into some rolling hills and the desert, is where the expanse of Vents is the narrowest.
“It was also hidden by the trees of the forest and anyone sane wouldn’t simply wander in. When it came time to hide us, that is the route we went.”
“And that’s when your biha users raised the earth?”
“Sometimes I think it took longer to raise that earthen walkway for two thousand steps than to hack our way through a deadly jungle,” the old man said with an irritated snort. “The walkway wasn’t very wide either. At most, enough for two ox carts to proceed side by side.”
Beks nodded. The Langshe people weren’t known for their biha abilities, so it made sense that they only had a few. She didn’t know how large their wells were or how skilled they were, but considering it took so long for something that wasn’t very long, it had been a struggle.
With Sir Callan, Efran, and her limitless biha well, she was fairly certain the building of the earthen walkway would be much quicker.
Beks sighed and leaned forward. “I can’t believe that in order to go through the jungle, Uncle Timur just had you hack your way through.”
“And just a few weeks before his wedding to the late Queen of Kadmus, too.”
“A few....” Beks squinted. She was starting to wonder if her uncle wasn’t as responsible as she initially thought. The old man seemed to notice her dismay and choked back a guffaw.
“When we went as a large train of people, it was surprisingly peaceful. Animals were scared off by loud noises and a large ‘herd’, if you will. Larger, predatory animals were easily defended from considering the skill of our cavalry. We drew all our water from underground water sources. The largest problem was the toxic plants. It was one thing not to eat them; we’d observe animals to see what was edible or not.
“However, some would cause rashes when merely touched. One particular flower not only had a foul odor, but its pollen paralyzed anyone who inhaled it. Commander Weirun had the foresight to have all of it documented, so we have a vast record of plants, where they could be found, and details on their toxicity.”
“It would still be useful if we avoided touching plants all together.”
“In the jungle? I’m afraid that’s all but impossible.”
She sighed once more. “If we go through the path you’ve come through, provided it is easier to pass now, how long do you think it will take for the entire Red Iron Cavalry?” Only the minimum support teams were going with the active cavalry. Families with small children, elderly, and non-combatants would be left behind to tend to the plateau.
It would keep them safe and self-sufficient. Messengers would be sent by specialized eagles that flew long distances and had been trained, allowing for communication. If Beks could get them a light pearl, she’d arrange for it, but that would take time. After the Crown Prince retook Langshe, she’d arrange for that before they turned their attention to Kadmus.
Once both kingdoms were settled, the future of the Red Iron Cavalry was still unknown. From what Beks had noticed, they seemed quite content living on the plateau, but restless. Perhaps this was because they could not leave or had no idea what the future held for them that made them so.
“A month, at the fastest. Under normal circumstances, such as on the plains, the cavalry can cross the span in a matter of days, but in such a jungle with its dangers and terrain, I’m afraid the progress will be slow.”
A month only if everything went smoothly. If not, they would be delayed. Beks pursed her lips. They were on a deadline. The Crown Prince needed to reclaim Langshe soon and Laurence only gave them four months before he sent someone after them, which could impede their plans. She narrowed her eyes.
If there is no road and it takes too long to clear...shall we make a road ourselves?
“In the few days since you arrived, it has become obvious to me that you are also planning for your husbands. Though not war strategy, but support and resources. May I ask,” the old man said as he leaned forward and met her eyes. “What do you think the Red Iron Cavalry should do after both Langshe and Kadmus are retaken?”
Beks furrowed her brows. “I want to leave that up to the Red Iron Cavalry and my husbands. If they wish to return to Langshe or join my husbands in Kadmus or return to the Forbidden Valley, I will support them.” She paused for a moment. “Master, was the Red Iron Cavalry willing to stay here and wait?”
Master Bilguun seemed to understand that she had her concerns and gave her a faint smile. “Undoubtedly, there are those who didn’t want to be trapped in the Forbidden Valley. They are horsemen whose lives are galloping across the plains!” Master Bilguun told her proudly before relaxing his shoulders and having a glint of sadness over his eyes. “However, remaining wasn’t an option. Do you know what happens to militaries when they are disbanded in Langshe?”
She tilted her head to the side. “Do they not simply return to the territories for the general or noble they served and continue working as civilians? Such as returning to farming or crafting.”
He almost smiled at her naivety. “There were very few of us who survived the Tuvanak Clan’s military’s disbanding. Many of us went into hiding or changed our names to remain hidden.” A ball of dread twisted in Beks’ stomach as the old man continued. “It is an unspoken policy in Langshe that if a military force is disbanded, to prevent the former leaders from regrouping in secret and rebelling, the disbanded members are hunted down and killed. Sometimes only the officers, sometimes as many as possible, until the Emperor or Empress or their supporters are satisfied. Ultimately, the strength of Langshe’s military wasn’t only to keep the supporting family’s status, but to survive.”
Beks narrowed her eyes. “Then, it is a good thing that the Red Iron Cavalry no longer belongs to Langshe because they no longer ‘exist’ on paper,” Beks replied. “They can follow my husbands.”
Master Bilguun raised a brow. “And who do your husbands follow?”
Beks met his eyes and the corners of her full, pink lips curled into a slight smile. “Me.”