Infinite Blue Heaven - A King and A Queen (14 page)

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Authors: Lazlo Ferran

Tags: #erotic, #military, #history, #war, #russia, #princess, #incest, #king, #fortress, #sword, #palace, #asia, #shamanism, #royalty, #bow, #spear, #central asia, #cannon, #siege, #ghengis khan, #mongol

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Chapter Four

We reached the seventh and last Water Station on time, which was a relief. Knowing the state of the water supply, I ordered all the men, to let their horses drink first. There was still some water left after the men had filled their flagons and bottles but it was muddy and of a poor quality. The Stations Brigade got out the wooden ramps. This was an ominous sign. The bottom of the tanks were sloped towards one corner to reduce evaporation at the last and so that there was a more concentrated area of water to drink from. When the tanks were in this state, planks were set, from a corner to the floor so that men and horses could drink at the pool.

Later, the word went round that only one tank had any water in it.

I sent word out that only horses were to drink now. There was much grumbling but nobody disobeyed orders.

We left a little later than usual. I planned to make this time up later at night. Starting when it was slightly cooler should help conserve some fluids.

We pushed on hard that night and thankfully, we reached the Water Station, manned by ten men and with ten camels. Each man had started out with two camels and the other ten of these men’s camels had gone ahead as spares with the others.

There were the twenty troughs, constructed of wood, in two rows of ten, protected from the sun underneath lean-to shelters set up in the lea of an old, weed covered dune. As we approached, the men waved and I saw them slit open the skins so our horses could get at the water.

The horses noisily gulped down the water and the men fell down exhausted, as soon as they were under the shelters.

Geb came up to me.

“I can’t keep pushing my men at this rate, Sire. They are not weak or old and I am sure the other troops are suffering just as much!”

I was looking at him but I was not hearing what he was saying. Or at least, his voice sounded far, far away.

I had been thinking for the last few hours about the strange dream and wondering what the blue stones had meant. Suddenly I was looking at Geb’s blue eyes and I knew what the dream meant. Geb was going to be instrumental in the battle. I could not get too close to him as I had a feeling I would need to send him into great danger. He would be what I needed to turn the tide of the battle. I didn’t know how but I was sure of it. Suddenly my, mind, which had been muddled and unfocused, was clear and I felt lightened.

I smiled at him.

“Geb. You are right. We must take things more easily, although I do not know how. I will think on it.”

A moment later, Abdil’khan and some of the other Generals came up, with the same complaint.

I walked among the drinking horses, for a moment, calculating, in my mind. Each trough held one berkovet of water, about the weight of two men. Each man would drink about one hundredth of this each day, given that my troops were trained to drink very little while in the desert. But any less and they would die after a very short while, perhaps as little as three days. I had 1000 men so they would need ten of the troughs. I had only about 2000 horses but each horse would need at least 2 1/2 times as much water as the men. Yes. There should be enough.

I called Abdil’Khan over.

“Assemble the men in at sunset. I want to talk to them.”

As I stood on the rise, with the sun going down behind me, I looked out over a sea of unfamiliar faces.

“Men. Countrymen. I am sure I don’t need to tell you that our country is in a tight situation. You are the last army. The last men I have to defend it. To defend your family, your mothers and fathers, your brothers and sisters, in some cases your wives, children and lovers.” I smiled and the men smiled back.

“We, are all there is to defend the land you love.” Of course they may be a few other small groups of men to defend the country, those that may yet arrive in Parat City from the outlying districts, but they will be, at most, two thousand strong and I have left orders that many of them are to defend the Palace and the city to the end.

We have a great battle ahead of us. It is a battle with a young man called Korim. I know little of him, to be honest, but I believe him to be proud and eager for land. I think we will find him dug-in and determined to defend what he has. Being young however, he may well be rash and being proud, he will not want to give up anything, even if this means making his position weaker.

Most of you will also know, that I have sent Lord Bulya, with an Army, ahead to ride down the north side of the mountains and attack on the very same day we will attack from the south. For this reason, I have been forcing the pace so that I, we will have time to assess the situation and scout out the battlefield for some days before we need to attack. However, the pace may seem too harsh to some of you and tonight, I will consider ways to make this less harsh. Be assured however, that whatever I decide to do, it is with the aim of winning the battle in mind.

I want all of you to be careful how much you drink. Do not gorge yourself as soon as you reach our midday halt. Drink a little at frequent intervals, and only just before we march, drink as much as you can. Also, let the horses drink as much as they need. Their need is greater than yours. And we will need them. I suggest also, that you remove all your armour and wear only a light tunic. Of course, if we are attacked, we will be vulnerable but I don’t think this likely. Also, eat only what you need.

I paused for a few moments.

“We
will win this battle and
free our country!

Slowly, at first, a few men cheered and then a few more and soon the whole throng was roaring its approval.

It was shortly after this that the Cook, also one of the chief field-surgeons came to my tent with some bad news. There was no preamble.

“Two men have died. One was wounded in the skirmish but both died from the water sickness. Fever. I tried everything I know but, in these conditions…”

I looked into his sad eyes.

“Are there more cases?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think it was the dried up tanks?”

“Maybe.”

“What can we do?”

He paused. “Nothing really. We may be alright.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

He saluted, turned and walked out.

Slightly later than usual, we left for the second of the Temporary Water Stations. I believed that this first station had been a shorter distance from the last camp than it should be and so, probably would the next. Of course, by the time we reached the fifth, we would be further from our destination than we should be and probably more than two days from water but for now, we may as well make the most of the easier marches.

Just before dusk, and a few hours before we would have stopped, Edil’bai sent a messenger to me.

“Look Sire!” He pointed behind us, to the south and at first I wasn’t sure what he was pointing to. Then I saw it. A huge bank of cloud, slightly reddish in colour. Sandstorm.

“Thank you Captain. Tell Edil’bai we will march all night and hope it passes behind us.”

By doing this, we would come closer to the next station too. “Pass the word on to the other Battalions.”

“Yes Sire!” he saluted and rode away.

Moments later, I saw a small cloud of dust, a few verst ahead of us.

Damnation. This was the wrong time to have to halt. I signaled for a scout, close behind me. At first I was puzzled why none of our flanking scouts had reported this to me. Then I realised that, because it was traffic on the road, they might not consider it worthy of reporting.

“Ride ahead and see what is making that dust! Report back immediately.”

“Yes Sire.”

He returned shortly, his horse foaming at the mouth with the effort.

“Travelers Sire. Just a peasant family!”

“Oh is that all?” I laughed. “They picked a bad time to travel. Let’s go and meet them.”

The cloud of dust had disappeared and as we drew nearer, I could see they had stopped to wait for us.

“Greetings.” I said to the man leading the small family, consisting of one old woman, a younger one, presumably his wife, two very young girls and a young boy. They were all seated on two mangy looking camels led by the man. A small dog yapping defensively at us.

“Greetings!” he said. He smiled but he also looked slightly angry. “Where are you going?”

“We are going to fight Korim.” He obviously didn’t recognise me.

“I suppose the King is still in his Castle!” There was a question in his eyes. Perhaps he guessed but was not sure, of my identity.

“No. He rides with us.” I was enjoying the game.

“Introduce me to him!” He was obviously enjoying it too. Because I had not revealed my identity, he was free to refer to me as a common soldier. This was no doubt a very rare privilege for a common man and one he would make the most of.

“Perhaps later. We will talk tonight. For now, we must try to outrun the storm.” I glanced over my shoulder.

“Ah yes! The storm. We have been watching it too. But my camels are weary. We were just hoping to find shelter.”

“And you will, with us, tonight.”

I signaled for the column to advance.

“Do not hurry. We will have food and shelter prepared for you.”

As the men passed, some laughed in a good-natured way, at the small family tribe, the first friendly faces they had seen since entering the desert. The dog chased around all the horses, bravely fighting off this terrible hoard.

With the wind rising, grit being thrown across our faces, and in the blackest, coldest part of the night, I sent a scout back in the dark to find out how far behind the last Battalion, the travelers were. I myself would consider it discourteous, as the hosts, if we did not wait for our guests, before making camp. He reported back that they were only a few minutes behind, keeping station with us.

So we continued to march for another hour, until the flying grit and sand was causing me to grit my teeth and visibility was down to just a single sachine.

“Halt! We camp here.”

Later, in my tent, I entertained the head of the family – a man called Ahmed.

“Sallaam al lekum.” he said, as he entered.

“Salaam al lekum.”

“May the blessings of the Eternal Blue Heaven be upon you,” he said.

I smiled, my eyebrows raised at this. It was a declaration of his ancestral roots and his deepest beliefs.

“So, you are of the old tribes?”

“Yes. He smiled.”
“Is Ahmed your full name?”

“The villagers called me Ahmed the Itinerant!” he said, laughing.

“Please, have some wine.” I said, gesturing towards the gold jug on the low table.

He poured some carefully into the goblet in front of him and broke off a large piece of the bread on a platter.

“It is good to have the opinion of one such as you, in a situation such as this.”

His dark, quick, penetrating eyes held the gaze of a bunch of grapes in front of him. The phrase ‘such as you’ of course alluded to his lean circumstances but since he had already jested about his condition, I was simply sharing in the joke. I suspected there was a lot more to this man than just a simple poor tradesman.

“And what situation do you find yourself in?” he asked.

I was about to say, “A King, with the very last of his men, riding out to defend his Country.” But I changed my mind and said, “A man, riding out to defend his house.”

“Ah but a man, alone, would not have to concern himself with the loyalty of those around him.”

I smiled and with a piece of bread half way to his mouth, Ahmed smiled at me. His beard was already peppered with bread crumbs and his full lips, shone with the wetness of the red wine. He was not a man accustomed to eating well. He had guessed my predicaments immediately.

“Yes. That is of concern to me. Would you know of any who should concern me?”

“Ummm.”

I wasn’t sure if he was voicing his pleasure at the food, or simply indicating that he was thinking.

“Perhaps.”

For a moment I saw a flicker of something dark, merciless and mercenary flicker across his eyes. Had he considered, for a moment, in a cold light, how to make use of this situation, of me?

But then he seemed to remember his old ways. Perhaps the road of life had taught him to be merciless most of the time but then, he remembered that it was not always good to be so.

He carried on eating for some minutes, unhurried, and I waited patiently for him. Occasionally he would wash down the food with some red wine. He seemed to be organising his thoughts.

I was cross-legged and he reclined on his right side, leaning on silk cushions. I still had not revealed to him my Kingship and so he was free to treat me as he wished, albeit with the respect one would show to any man. Indeed, I may not even be his King as he may not be from my Country. I thought I recognised his accent but I could not be sure. His rough beard and weather-beaten face were the hallmarks of many mountain tribes and he could be from my country, or almost any other. Whether or not he was my Subject, was academic though. Since he was in my Country, he would have to pay obeisance to me, if he knew I was a King.

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