Heir of Iron (The Powers of Amur Book 1) (29 page)

Thudra pointed at Navran and Paidacha. “What about them?”

“She can speak for me,” Navran said. Paidacha just nodded.

“Interesting that they defer to you. I was led to believe that the Heir was a man, but perhaps I should reconsider. Or perhaps something else is going on here.”

She cleared her throat and bowed her head, then answered in a plaintive voice just at the edge of tears. Feminine fragility was always a good way to wreck a man. “Thudra-dar, why have you detained us? We are fleeing from the burning of Jaitha, coming to the nearest city where our kind is numerous. The Heir is not with us, nor do we know where he is. And what quarrel have you with the Heir?”

“What quarrel have I?” Thudra laughed. “What quarrel could I possibly have with a man who claims to be the rightful ruler of Virnas, and who commands the loyalty of a cult whose members are a third of my city? Especially when the city of Jaitha was burnt not many days ago for refusing to yield up these Uluriya.”

“Ruyam,” Navran whispered.

“Yes,
Ruyam
,” Thudra said. He sneered at Navran. “The news of the standoff reached me quickly, and the news of the city’s burning just before you arrived. Now I have no desire to join the king of Jaitha in resistance to the mad thikratta, and when he gets here with the imperial guard I intend to comply with his orders. I’ll either give him the Heir, or I’ll give him every Uluriya male in the city.”

He gave Mandhi a steely glance then looked over Navran and Paidacha with contempt. “So what shall I tell Ruyam when he gets here? That I have one man intact, or that I turned the city into an abattoir looking for him? He’s not many days behind you, I suspect. Choose quickly.”

“My lord and king,” Mandhi said, “what makes you assume that the Heir is among us? We know nothing of him.”

Thudra looked at her and smirked. “I’m sure you don’t.”

The thought resounded like a bolt of lightning in her mind:
Sadja told him
. Sadja was here in Virnas, she had seen his tents, and his farsight would have revealed the Heir’s approach—and he had betrayed them.

“We know nothing,” Mandhi repeated.

“In that case,” Thudra said with a grim smile, “I have a cell in the prison for all of you. You will remain there until I have an answer, and the rest of the Uluriya on the road will remain outside the city gates. I’m sure Ruyam will be kind to them when he gets here.”

The cell was a lightless room, four paces wide on each side, with a barred door and the stench of feces. “Light of Ulaur,” Mandhi swore, “I don’t even want to think of the debt of purity I’ll incur after we get out of here.”

Navran leaned against the stone wall by the door and watched the little yellow square on the far wall, where the light from the entrance fell against the gray stones. Shadows crossed through the light, and the distant mutter of voices could be heard. “I’ve been in worse,” he said.

She shuddered. Navran’s stories suddenly took on a revolting reality. Her skin crawled.

“You assume,” Paidacha’s voice rose from the rear of the chamber, where the shadows nearly swallowed him and his family entire. “You assume that we are getting out of here.”

“Of course we’re getting out,” Mandhi said. “Veshta, at least, will realize that we’ve come when he hears that all the Uluriya of Jaitha are at the gates, and he’ll petition Thudra for our release.”

“You’re so sure,” Paidacha said with an air of despair. “How?”

“Quiet, Paidacha,” said Sumi. “You’re upsetting Kalishni.”

She would be more upset if she knew I was lying,
Mandhi thought. Veshta
might
realize they had come and were imprisoned by Thudra, but he might not. And they might not have time before Ruyam came. “Sadja-dar,” she muttered.

“What?” Navran said.

“Sadja-dar of Davrakhanda,” she said a little more loudly. “I told you about him.”

Navran nodded. “What about him?”

“He’s here. They were his tents outside the city. He told Thudra we were coming, which is why we’re here.”

Navran closed his eyes and brushed his chin. “Why would he do that? Didn’t he want to be an ally?”

She snorted. “Clearly he changed his mind.”

Navran grunted. He stayed watching through the bars over the door for a few more moments, then retreated into the darkness at the back of the room and spoke to Paidacha in low tones. Their conversation lasted for a few minutes, pattering below a volume at which she might hear it, until Navran’s steps approached her, and he emerged into the dim gloom at the front of the cell.

He pounded on the grate and shouted, “I am here! Tell Thudra that the Heir will speak to him!”

There was a flurry of motion up the stairs from them. Mandhi grabbed Navran’s arm and hissed, “What are you doing?”

“Letting Paidacha and his family escape,” he said. Then he shouted, “Bring Thudra to me! I will speak to none but the king of Virnas!”

The jailer appeared with an oil lamp at the top of the stairs and glanced down at Navran with a scowl. “Are you lying? It’s both of our hides if you are.”

Navran pulled the iron ring from where it dangled on a chain and held it up in the light. “This is Manjur’s ring.” The jailer approached with his lamp, but Navran stepped back into the darkness and hid it beneath his shirt. “No, you don’t get to see it. Do you think I dangle Manjur’s ring in the air for common jailers? Bring me the king of Virnas.”

The jailer curled his lips together and squinted at them, and nodded. “Fine.” He disappeared up the stairs.

“What are you doing?” Mandhi shouted. Her blood roared in her ears, and her saliva seemed to boil in her mouth. “You’re giving yourself up to him?”

“I’m not giving anyone up,” Navran said calmly.

“Then what are you going to do?”

Navran raised his hand and backed away quietly. “I have an idea.”

“Care to tell me what it is?”

“Not yet.”

She spun and turned to the wall, leaning her forehead against the stone. She tasted bile on her tongue. Her fingers twitched with fury and despair.

“Trust me,” Navran said.

“Never,” she whispered. He didn’t hear.

The door at the top of the stairs opened and Thudra came, flanked on either side by soldiers and retainers. “So the Heir wants to out himself and speak to me now?”

Navran walked to the front of the cell and looked Thudra in the eye without bowing. He pulled the ring from beneath his shirt. “I am the Heir. If you want me, you may have me. But you’ll let Paidacha, Sumi, and Kalishni go. And the Uluriya on the road will be allowed into the city.”

“How noble of you to trade yourself for them.” Thudra sneered. He leaned forward and examined the ring that Navran dangled before him. “Too dim to see it here. And what if this is a trick?” He pointed to Paidacha. “What if that one is the Heir, and you’re giving yourself up for him?”

“Perhaps,” Navran said. “You should take his daughter as a surety. Keep myself, Mandhi, and Kalishni in your custody, but let Paidacha and Sumi go, and bring my people into the city where they will be safe.”

Mandhi drew in her breath. She looked back to Paidacha, but his face, and his daughter’s, were hidden in the darkness.

Thudra laughed. “I should be suspicious of such a clever offer. But perhaps you were counting on me being suspicious of your cleverness.”

Navran looked at him blankly. “I am not clever.”

“Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t.” He folded his arms across his chest then nodded. “But I’ll take your offer. The two in the back can go, and I’ll open the gates to allow the Uluriya peasants into the city before Ruyam catches them. You two and the girl will come with me. When Ruyam reaches us, we’ll all go to him together.”

The pavilion that Thudra mounted on the field north of Virnas kept the white smothering sunlight off of their heads. It did not help with the nervousness twisting in Navran’s gut. He stood very still and did not wring his hands, and he kept his expression stony and serious. So far, it seemed to have worked. Mandhi seemed to credit him with a goat-headed, stoic stubbornness, which didn’t make her treat him better, but it kept her anxious enough to not appear too confident before Thudra.

Thudra stood on the north side of the pavilion, looking to the north and tugging at the corners of his mustache. Mandhi and Navran were guarded within a corner, separated from the militia captains and other advisors by a thin, transparent curtain. A lone soldier watched them. It was a man that Navran recognized from when he played dice. He filed this thought for later.

A man in green approached from the east, surrounded by a coterie of soldiers. Thudra’s gaze flitted from the messenger to the empty road from the north. “What does Sadja want now?” he snapped at the advisor standing next to him.

“I don’t know,” the advisor answered dryly.

“I’m beginning to regret letting him camp on the east field,” Thudra glanced back at Navran and sniffed. “Well, the courier is almost here. And where is the response from Ruyam?”

“I don’t know that either.”

The man bearing Sadja’s emblems bowed at the edge of the pavilion and was admitted with a gesture from Thudra. Navran glanced back at Mandhi, standing at the rear of the tent with Paidacha’s daughter Kalishni in her arms. She, too, watched Sadja’s messenger and gave Navran a sly glare. She hadn’t spoken to him since he had revealed himself to Thudra in the prison, which Navran guessed was for the best. She wouldn’t have liked his plan if she knew it.

Truth be told, it wasn’t a very good plan. If Thudra had detained Paidacha in secret, or Paidacha hadn’t gotten his message to Sadja, or if Sadja hadn’t agreed to it, then the whole effort was lost.

“Thudra-dar of Virnas,” the messenger began, “Sadja-dar of Davrakhanda sends his regards and his warnings. He has learned that you have seized the Heir of Manjur and intend to turn him over to Ruyam.”

Thudra folded his arms and said nothing. The messenger went on. “Sadja-dar warns you, if you do these things then he will strike against you, destroy the militia of Virnas, and seize the city for himself.”

At this, Thudra snorted and gestured for the emissary to be quiet. “How does Sadja-dar plan to do this? My militia still holds the city.”

The emissary responded with a slight expression of apprehension, “Thudra-dar, forgive your servant, but Sadja-dar will not hesitate to strike against your pavilion directly and hold you for ransom against the city.”

“Will Sadja-dar take on the imperial guard, too?” he asked. “Ruyam’s forces will be here within a few hours. I’ll simply retreat with them.”

“And then the city will be his to take. If you wish to remain king of Virnas, you will not turn over the Heir of Manjur to his enemies.”

“And if I
don’t
turn the Heir of Manjur over to his enemies, I still lose the city to the Uluriya, it seems to me. Tell Sadja that his threats are meaningless and that he is no longer welcome on my lands. Ruyam and I will see to the rest.”

“As you wish, my lord,” the emissary said and bowed. He backed out of the pavilion and walked quickly over the rise to the east, towards Sadja’s tents.

So far so good,
Navran thought. But the riskiest part of the plan was yet to come.

Thudra stroked his beard and glanced back at the city. “Chalika,” he said to the captain at the front of the pavilion, “send a man to the city and tell half the garrison to accompany me on the fields. Have them take up positions around the pavilion.”

The captain nodded and left. Navran watched him march towards the city walls, praying Wind-speed, messenger. Bring as many militia as you can. Then he heard Mandhi’s gasp. Her eyes were to the north, and one by one every man in the pavilion turned and watched the northern road, where the Red Men were coming over the ridge.

Their force was massive, marching six abreast on the rutted, muddy road, and spilling off the pounded clay where the path narrowed. As soon as they crested the last ridge before Virnas, a runner separated from the front-most company and sprinted down the hill towards Thudra’s pavilion. Behind him, the force kept coming, an endless line of dusty red sashes and ash-colored dhotis, glittering with bronze on their chests and spear points. After some hundred rows had marched over the hill a red palanquin appeared. Gold shone on its corners, and black smoke leaked from behind its curtains as if an oily fire burned within.

Navran’s stomach lurched, and a band of sweat broke out on his forehead.
Ruyam.
But now, of all times, he couldn’t show fear.

The runner that had sprinted ahead of the imperial guard approached Thudra’s tent. Panting, he bowed to Thudra and took a moment doubled over to regain his breath. Then he straightened and said, “Thudra-dar, your offer is heard and accepted. If you have the Heir of Manjur, then Ruyam will accept him and spare Virnas from the fire which consumed Jaitha.”

“Accepted,” Thudra said. He pointed to Navran. “The supposed Heir is with me. I’ll be happy to turn him over as soon as Ruyam reaches me. And I offer him my congratulations and well-wishes on his reign. Once we have finished our business, perhaps he’ll join me in my palace—”

“Ruyam will take no visitors,” the runner said. “You will turn over the Heir then he will return to Majasravi. That is all.” He turned on a heel and ran back to Ruyam’s troops.

Navran glanced at the city. A large force of Thudra’s militia were marching out of the gates towards Thudra’s pavilion. Mandhi, too, was looking that way, and she skewered Navran with a look of anger and despair. “What are we doing?” she whispered to him.

“Waiting,” he said.

She pointed to the east. “I noticed Sadja-dar’s men started marching up from the valley. Should I assume that was your doing?”

He nodded. “I told Paidacha to get that message from Sadja-dar.”

“And why? Sadja-dar’s force isn’t large enough to take Thudra’s in open battle.”

“He doesn’t need to. Wait”

Thudra’s additional militia reached them before the crawling serpent of Red Men got to the valley floor. “Form up!” the captain shouted, and for a few minutes there was a ruckus of soldiers marching and bronze spear points clicking together in the sunlight. They kicked up a thin dust that momentarily obscured the city. Navran watched the gates.
Now
, he thought. They would only have a few minutes. The dust began to thin, and he heard Mandhi gasp before he could make it out.

There was chaos at the north gate of Virnas. From this distance, it appeared merely a mass of bodies churning around the outer gate, and it was impossible to tell who fought with whom, and for what. But soon enough the meaning behind the chaos became clear. Thudra’s banner over the gate fell to the ground, and a bolt of bleached cotton tumbled from the other rampart and unfurled in the wind. Mandhi drew her breath, and a murmur of shock rippled through the ranks.

The banner was painted with a pentacle, with the name of Manjur scrawled beneath it in hasty calligraphy.

“You
fool
,” Mandhi said.

Ignore her.
He needed a clear mind now, and Mandhi’s disparagement would only cloud his thoughts. His palms were suddenly sweaty. He glanced at the soldiers on either side of them.

“What is this idiocy,” Thudra spat as he looked towards the gate. He glowered at Navran through the curtain with his lips pulled back in a snarl of contempt. “Did you have your Uluriya seize the gates?”

He shrugged and said nothing.

“And what do you hope to accomplish with this? Do you think they’ll be able to hold the gates against me? Against my militia and the Red Men both?”

“Thudra-dar,” Chalika said, “Sadja-dar’s men are marching.”

And indeed they were, not towards the massed formation of Thudra’s men, but towards the gates of the city, placing themselves on the road between Thudra and the gate. They did not molest the remnants of the gate guard who were fleeing along the road, but rather turned the points of their spears towards Thudra as they occupied the route to the city.

Thudra cursed. He glanced up the road at the trickle of Red Men still advancing. The head of the army had reached the bottom of the valley. Navran guessed how long it would be before they met. Enough time? It would have to be.

“Dastha,” he whispered. The guard next to him blinked and looked over. “You still bad at dice?”

The guard squinted at Navran then grinned. “I thought I recognized you.”

“It’s been a while since we tossed dice over at Sapma’s, hasn’t it?”

“I’m still down there, but we haven’t seen you for a while.” He glanced at Navran then around them at the rest of Thudra’s pavilion as if he suddenly realized where they were and added, “For good reason. I guess.”

“Not sure how good it was.” He did his best to look glum, which did not take great effort, and shrugged again.

“Does your wife still shriek like a falcon at you for it?”

“Like wives do.” He smiled.

Navran paused a moment and peered through the curtain at Thudra and Chalika watching Ruyam’s forces approach. Dastha looked as well, following Navran’s cue. “What do you think Ruyam will do with the city?” Navran said.

Dastha flinched a little. “I don’t know. Not my business, really.”

“Of course it’s yours. He burned Jaitha. Could do the same to Virnas.”

“But we’re handing the Heir—you, I mean—handing you over.”

“Ah, don’t worry about me,” Navran said and allowed himself a slight grin. “But the Uluriya already took the gates. There’ll be fighting nonetheless. Ruyam won’t like it.”

Dastha pressed his lips together and looked around nervously. “Maybe.”

He pointed to Kalishni clinging to Mandhi’s neck. “And what about Kalishni?”

“What about her?”

“Will you give her to Ruyam?”

“Ruyam won’t hurt her.” His tone was plaintive, as if he begged with the Powers to make his statement true.

“I’m not sure. You know, I was a prisoner with Ruyam for a few months and saw him up close. He might not take the life of a girl for much.”

Dastha shook his head and swallowed. His distress was written on his face. “I hope not.”

“Do you know what I want, Dastha?” The man shook his head. Navran leaned in and whispered, “I want you to let her go. Never mind about me and Mandhi. We can handle our own
dhaur
. But the girl, she’s separated from her mother—did you know that Mandhi isn’t the girl’s mother? She’s innocent. When you march us to meet with Ruyam, let the girl go.”

Dastha bit his lower lip and looked to both sides again, as if he worried they had been overheard. His knuckles had turned white where he gripped his spear.

“Just her,” Navran repeated. “She’ll run for Sadja-dar’s line. After that, she’s not your problem.”

Dastha examined Mandhi and the girl and said, “I’ll talk to the others.”

The advance of the Red Men halted. The palanquin leaking black smoke moved to the head of the line and stopped. No messengers or heralds appeared. The guards at the front of the line simply watched Thudra’s forces and waited.

“I suppose that means it’s time,” grumbled Thudra from across the partition. “The mad thikratta doesn’t keep with formalities.” He gestured to Dastha. “Bring out the prisoners.”

With a glance at Navran, Dastha led the three of them from their curtained alcove and onto the road. Three other men formed up around them, two ahead and two behind. Dastha whispered something into the ear of the other man in front, then turned back for a moment and spoke to the two behind in a voice too quiet to hear.

Fear and despair mingled on Mandhi’s face. They marched towards Ruyam. Navran grabbed her shoulder and whispered into her ear, “Run when I do.”

Her look at him suggested that she understood but had no hope to succeed. Fair enough. His stomach was twisted up like a rag being wrung. If this all went wrong, he and Mandhi would be the first to die.

Two hundred paces between Thudra’s encampment and Ruyam’s palanquin. The beaten clay path ran a straight line between shallow fields, just now greening with bristles of rice. At a hundred paces, Navran stopped.

“Now,” he said.

Dastha swallowed and nodded with his jaws clenched in a nervous smile. “Just the girl,” he said.

“No. All of us.” He pointed to the four guards. “Thudra will have you whipped and possibly killed if even one of us gets away. So we all go together.”

“But—” Dastha started.

Navran didn’t wait. He scooped Kalishni into his arms and sprinted into the fields.

There was a burst of noise behind him, and twin roars erupted from Thudra’s and Ruyam’s forces. The rills of the rice field pounded beneath his feet and the sprouted plants scratched at his ankles. Sadja’s men held their line, shouting and waving for them to run. He heard Mandhi’s panting beside him, and in the corner of his eyes he saw her with the skirt of her sari held above her knees, fear and determination glowing in her eyes. A look over his shoulder showed the four soldiers running a few paces behind him, and the armies of Thudra and Ruyam starting to charge across the field.

But he, Mandhi, and the others had started quickly enough. His lungs burned, and his legs ached when he and Kalishni crashed through the front line of Sadja’s forces. A chaos of shouting and running engulfed them—
Into the city, close the gates, run, spears forward, hold the rear line.
One of Sadja’s captains took his hand, and a soldier took Kalishni from his arms and led both of them towards the open gate of Virnas. Mandhi followed. He heard Dastha and the others crashing into Sadja’s forces, shouting
Take us in! We surrender!
But he ran ahead, beneath the arch of the gate, and across the stone threshold of Virnas.

Behind him soldiers poured through the gate, shouting and screaming as they retreated from the advance of the two armies. Arrows hailed down from the tower above the gate. His guide pulled him aside and into a shaded alcove next to the gate. Someone cried out, and then Paidacha was there, prying Kalishni from the arms of the soldier and weeping into her hair. The gates of the city creaked and grumbled closed.