Chapter Thirty-Four

  The ride was indeed a long one. If they had made forty-five miles in a day riding after Aisa towards Ghinai, they made fifty riding to Kashma, the stronghold of the An-Dakal clan. They rode along the road by the river. It had been a ravine when the ride began, but by the end of the day they were riding along a steep chasm, the rushing river raging well below them. The An-Dakal fortress of Kashma was a fort built into the top of a large hill. It did not appear large as fortresses went, but Dryden had heard much of the fortress was built into the hill itself, which was an impressive outcrop of granite. It was thought to be nigh untakeable, and Dryden agreed when he saw the great rock of Kashma. Between the narrow approach which could be cut and the vastness of the rock of Kashma, it would be a difficult task for any army, even Vastrum’s. He wondered how the An-Dakal had taken it when the Ans swept down from the north and took the whole land. They first sighted it as the road followed a big bend in the river and it suddenly came into view down the great canyon that now cut the southern reaches of the valley. The sun was still high in the sky as they approached it.

  Mar still rode with Dryden, though he had nearly fallen at one point and they had moved him to the front of the horse where Dryden could carry the man. He slept for much of the ride from then on, carried by Dryden. When they rode into the outskirts of the small city which lay at the foot of the great fortress of Kashma, the wizard was still sleeping.

  Before they could enter the city proper, a contingent of riders came out to meet them. They were Vuruni horsemen, all dressed in the crimson silk of the An-Dakal. All the horsemen carried great long lances and wore steel helms. Their faces were covered with black silk veils. The men of the 13th and the Vuruni pulled up short. Dryden rode forward, as did Private Brown, the one man with them who could translate. Several of the enemy came forward.

  The Vuruni spoke and Brown translated, “He says he is Sudal An-Dakal. He asks why we’re here and what we want. He was impolite, I think, sir.” The man’s tone had told Dryden he was being impolite. Brown was not clear on exactly the manner of his rudeness.

  “Tell them we seek aid. We wish to parlay with their leader, whoever is in charge now that Guranji is dead,” Dryden replied matter-of-factly.

  “Sir, he says he will not let a band of soldiers into the fortress. You can take three men. The rest of us will have to wait here.”

  “Indeed? Ask him where we can receive care for the wounded?”

  The man looked at Mar, then back at his men, and spoke again. Brown translated, “You can take three good men and the wounded man.”

  “Sergeant Krach, Private Brown, and I want my scout, Private Guresh. Captain Benton, take care of the men well, see if we can get some food for the horses and some rest for the men,” Dryden remembered well the last time he had gone into a stronghold to parlay with an easterner. It had not gone well in Unkabi. This time Mar would not be able to help. He hoped it would be better with these men than it had been with Sala Shuja. It took another few minutes to negotiate the particulars of getting the men and horses taken care of.

  They followed the An-Dakal men into the town. Most of the men stopped and were billeted at what appeared to be a small caravanserai. Dryden, Mar, Brown, and Guresh went up with the Vuruni. The rider followed the main road until they came to a stout-looking gate that was built of strong wood and reinforced with great steel plating. The doors creaked and chains rattled as the gates were opened. Dryden and his small group followed the Vuruni inside. They rode up a long winding cobbled street that went up and up along the cliff face towards the top of the great rock that was the stone of Kashma. It seemed miles they had climbed. Dryden hazarded a look back and his jaw dropped at the sight. He could see seemingly the whole valley from up here, the river-carved canyon below, the city of Vurun far in the distance, the smoke from a thousand fires burning the farms of the north valley. Then, just as the sun was getting low in the sky, they arrived at the entrance to the fortress proper. Dryden’s earlier assessment had been correct, this would be an impossible place to take without a siege that would last for years. It was impregnable.

  The men dismounted their horses and followed Sudal An-Dakal into the fortress. Mar was helped from the horse. He had awoken during the ride up the hill but had not spoken. His fever seemed less, but he needed help getting off the mount. Several women were called, and together with a servant, they began to take Mar somewhere else.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Wait, where are you taking him?” Dryden demanded.

  One of the women replied, her tone was harsh.

  Brown translated the answer, “They are taking him somewhere to rest. They will care for him. They say it is a wonder he still walks. You should have let him rest.”

  “We had nowhere to stop until now,” Dryden replied softly.

  Brown went to translate, but the women and Mar were already disappearing into a door that went deeper into the fortress.

  Dryden had not been sure what to expect of the castle, but he was surprised at its sparseness. It was nothing like the opulent palace of the Shah, quite the opposite it was stark, with little ornamentation. There were some carvings etched out of the bare stone, but they looked ancient and worn almost to nothing. They were led into a room that looked north out over the valley. There was a little colour here in this room, several chairs and divans were placed around the room, some fruit was on a small low table, and tea had been set. A man stood looking out at Vurun. He was dressed in a long golden tunic. His hair was let down, which was rarely seen among Vuruni men who usually wore their hair up in turbans. His eyes squinted as he strained to see out at the horizon where the city of Vurun lay. He was a middle-aged man with olive skin, a hawkish nose, long dark hair, and a short black beard.

  The man spoke without looking back, “Major Dryden, a pleasure.” The man spoke Vastrum very well. He had only a wisp of an accent.

  “Apologies, I am at a disadvantage. I do not know you,” Dryden replied.

  “Kavala An-Dakal, Guranji was my brother.”

  “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. We were not sure who controlled Kashma now, with your brother dead. We feared Kurush might have taken the fortress, but I can see our fears were wholly unfounded.”

  “Indeed, the last to take it were my ancestors. They found it abandoned. It is unassailable, though a few have tried.” The man smirked and turned, he could see gold in Kavala’s eyes, the sign of someone with the gift for sorcery, “Tea?” He gestured to a chair.

  Dryden sat, still slightly wary, “Do you know why we have come?” He asked.

  The man sat next to him and poured a small cup of tea into a little glass cup, “Sugar?”

  “No, thank you.”

  The man took a sip of the steaming beverage, added a small piece of raw sugar and stirred it, “We have a long history in this land. You are new here. We Vuruni live life at a different pace. You are always hurrying to and fro. You have, as I understand it, been east, north, west, and now you come south. You have visited every corner of this land in such a short time. What do you think of her?”

  “What know you of where I have been?” Dryden frowned, how did this man know anything of him or the 13th?

  “I see much from up here. I hear much from my people as well. I hear you visited Dau, though even I cannot see the Black City from here, and I have no ears there. I have not visited, myself. How did you find it?”

  “I found it disagreeable, and I regret going.”

  “I enjoy your honesty, Major, so I will return the favour. I have as much interest in vengeance against An-Beya as you do. We are ancient enemies, since before our ancestors came down from the north and east. I see your army waiting in the north, burning the valley. I would help you in taking Vurun. There is only one thing…”

  “What is the price?” Dryden interrupted him.

  “The crown of my cousin. It was his by right. Now that he is gone, it is mine.”

  “What of Roxana?” Dryden asked.

  “A woman cannot rule in Vurun. She will be cared for. Any son she bears by Kurush will be looked after as well. They are my blood and I am not a monster.”

  “That is agreeable for my part,” Dryden equivocated, he did not have any kind of authority to grant the crown.

  “I know you cannot promise this. I do not care. It is my throne by right, I only tell you what I will do when the land is free from Kurush. I will take the crown. I have the power and the will to do it. You must see in coming here that we will not be moved from this land. All you must do is acknowledge your understanding and tell your leaders what I will do.”

  “I will tell them, certainly.”

  “What is it that you need from An-Dakal?”

  “We have two armies. The one you see in the far distance belongs to General Haddock and besieges Vurun from the north. To the west, General Winslow advances. We need you to besiege Vurun from the south. Can you do it?”

  “For the throne of Vurun? I would do anything,” The man’s eyes flashed in the fading light.

  “Now that we are agreed, I hope you will drink some tea, enjoy the view, and then we will see how your friend fares,” The man smiled at him, something in the smile felt cold. He was not a true friend, only an ally of convenience, “Rest well tonight. Tomorrow we ride to siege the city.”

  Dryden took the cup of tea and sipped. It was still warm, and it tasted strongly of mint. He put the cup down and stared out to the north at Vurun. The horizon was darkening as the sun set to the east, shadows growing long across the land. The wind had shifted and now blew from the east. Smoke billowed up into the sky, a vast charcoal cloud blowing across the pale evening sky, blotting out the peaks of the Korum in a vast and suffocating darkness. The last rays of sunlight lit the hills around the fortress in brilliant gold, and then the sun was gone and night was upon Vurun.