by Rob Bayliss
The Khan had his own reasons, too. Later this year, he planned to embark on his own campaign beyond the Skycrags, toward the Straits of Tahlinjin. As well as aiding in the Empire’s campaign, he would have won new territories and vassals of his own and secured the secret wealth that the mountains yielded, a better bargain for the blood of his men … and on his own terms.
Khan Chenkish kept a constant vigil on all in his hall. Every now and then his eyes would flash to Tuan and his companions. On a mission for General Broud were they? Summerlanders recruited last summer, and a Flinter? Not the usual Imperial agents he had come to expect. Were they spies? Was there tension between the Senate and the seminary? He would not readily allow them to leave Keanasa if that were the case. There was a story here. He needed to know what they sought. He would question Captain Sendel, the reluctant ambassador, but first he would put him at his ease and loosen his tongue with wine.
Not for nothing had he placed Karla, his beautiful, young red-haired daughter, between himself and the captain. He picked up her wine cup and passed it to her, whispering in her ear. Karla smiled as she sipped her wine, running her tongue over her lips so they were moist and shone in the candlelight.
Karla leant over towards Captain Sendel, her green eyes sparkling and mischievous, her hand lightly touching his. He turned towards her touch. Her dress had a plunging neckline that showed her cleavage, enhanced by her necklace, a ruby set in gold. Captain Sendel quickly raised his eyes, lest he cause any offence. They met hers, and were held by their emerald enchantment. Her full lips curled seductively, amused at the captain’s embarrassment. Men. They were so easy to play. They were like clay to be moulded to her will, her youth and beauty another weapon in her father the Khan’s armoury.
“My lady Karla?” Captain Sendel asked. He could not help but return the young woman’s easy smile.
“Captain Sendel, it is so good that the whale roads are open once more. My father tells me you served in Admiral Carnak’s fleet, defeating the pirates and slavers that troubled our coasts.”
“Indeed, my lady. I have the pleasure of being captain of the Raven, the fastest ship on the Cheama, by sail or spring. I acted as the admiral’s eyes and courier of messages between sea and land operations,” he said, sipping at his wine, lost in Princess Karla’s beauty.
“You are a modest man, Captain Sendel,” Princess Karla interjected. “I hear you ran the blockade of Northport, the only captain to do so successfully. But come!” she purred with a mischievous glint in her eye, “Your cup is nearly empty. I will have it filled, and I am rarely denied what I want.” She signalled to the servant waiting on the high table. “Quickly, fill our esteemed guest’s wine cup, something special, the Keffina Red if you please. Captain Sendel prefers a full body, does he not?”
She giggled at this, her eyes dropping down to look at her own breasts, tightly contained in her low-cut dress. Despite his best efforts, Captain Sendel’s eyes followed her gaze, drawn to what her revealing dress barely contained. When he looked up again she was gazing into his eyes, that mischievous grin back on her face.
“My Lady, I….” Captain Sendel’s apology was stopped short, as he felt Princess Karla’s hand stroke his leg under the table, from his knee, to the top of his thigh.
“No need for apologies, good captain; be at ease. Are we not good friends already?” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Ah, here is your wine. Normally this is reserved for a select few, but tonight what is mine is yours.” Her hand stayed on the captain’s thigh. Her fingertips lightly danced along the inside of his leg, as her other hand raising her wine cup.
Captain Sendel smiled, raised his own wine cup and clinked it against hers. “To you, my fair princess of Keanasa.” He said, and drank deeply of the wine. It was thick, strong and sweet. He finished it in one swig, feeling the liquid warm his stomach and a soothing tingle spread through his body. Before he could protest, the servant had refilled his wine cup to the brim, but in such beguiling company he didn’t seem to mind.
Turning from conversation with his wife, the Queen, the Khan saw Karla bewitching the captain. He almost felt sorry for the man. Karla’s youth and beauty wove a glamorous spell of seduction, especially with a flagon of Keffina at hand. The good captain was already lost, his self-discipline dissolving, although he knew it not. He would be a frustrated man tonight. Still, no doubt his frustration would lead to the financial betterment of one of the girls in the pleasure houses of Taleel, the Khan mused to himself with a chuckle. As the musicians launched themselves into another near discordant Cheamanite reel, ‘The Vinegar Wife,’ the Khan subtlety listened in to the conversation between his daughter and the spellbound Captain Sendel. He turned back to his wife, who was also observing the proceedings. “It would be soon,” she mouthed to her husband silently. The Khan grinned back at his wife and loosened the dagger in a scabbard at his side.
“So, my sweet captain,” Karla purred, “I am intrigued by those strange companions you bring to our shores; they make an odd band.”
Captain Sendel hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. He felt the Keffina course through him, fogging his mind with its heavy intoxication. He looked around himself. The Khan appeared occupied in intimate conversation with Queen Shareen. All of the other guests seemed uninterested in him, busy eating, talking and drinking. Many sang along tunelessly as the musicians played louder and faster. He looked at Tuan Blackstone, Tamzine the Razoress, the Turanesci and Flinter. They were in animated conversation amongst themselves, not seeming to spare him a glance.
“My Lady, they are conducting business for the dominar of Northport. I am not at liberty to say more,” the captain murmured uncomfortably.
Princess Karla bit her bottom lip. Her eyes were large and sad, looking deep into his. She ran her finger around the edge of her wine cup, gathering excess wine on it. “Why will you not tell me? I know you wish to.” Her eyes sparkled again. “I think I know what you want, my sweet captain,” she murmured seductively.
She pursed her moist lips around her finger, gently sucking the wine off it, all the while her eyes holding his gaze. Her hand found his groin under the table, her fingertips found him, gently stroking through his clothing. She felt him harden, despite his best efforts to resist. She smiled, her face moving closer to his. Her lips were moist, full and kissable. Slowly, hesitatingly, he found his mouth moving closer to hers, bewitched by her beauty. An inner voice screamed at him that this was wrong, but he was lost in the moment.
Suddenly the spell of glamour was violently broken.
A dagger slammed into the table in front of the captain. Were it not for the thick oak, he would have been stabbed in the groin. Captain Sendel sat back with a start. Princess Karla pulled back in her seat. Her eyes, once soft and doe-like, now blazed with the fury of a sabre cat. A fist gripped the dagger. Captain Sendel’s eyes followed up the arm to see the Khan, his eyes cold and threatening. All fell quiet, the hubbub of conversation silenced. The music had stopped, and all eyes shot to the High Table. Captain Sendel swallowed hard. His ardour was extinguished, and his mind swam in a sea of wine-befuddled confusion.
“Father!” Karla spoke in hushed, menacing tones, her eyes full of malice. “This lowly dog of the Cheama tried to kiss me.”
Queen Shareen placed her hand on the Khan’s arm. “Husband, stay your hand. The captain is in an ambassadorial role and you have offered him your hospitality, before your men and the folk of Keanasa.”
Captain Sendel trembled. He felt sick. His face was pale and drained of blood as he awaited the Khan’s fury and judgement, never seeing the wink exchanged between husband and wife. Unknowingly, he was being played as a puppet. He did not see the strings, or how the three beside him at the High Table worked them.
Seemingly to take note of his wife’s warning, the Khan masked his anger and instead began to roar with laughter. He turned to the others in the hall. “Eat and drink, I offer my hospitality to all in my hall, take it or insult me. Musicians! What did I hi
re you for? Play, damn you, or you will have no coin from my purse!”
The musicians quickly did as instructed. Sendel’s eyes desperately searched the hall seeking aid and allies, but none were to be found. The Khan’s wife had stayed his hand but her eyes glared at him in anger. Even the Gewichas and his companions were back in conversation amongst themselves, seemingly relaxed again after the shocked glances up at the High Table. Wine was flowing and music filled the empty spaces between exchanged words. Perhaps all thought the Khan was merely enjoying a jest?
The Khan sat down, looking over his hall, satisfied that all was as it was before. He turned to the captain, his face suddenly cold and humourless. “You, Taleeli dog! Were you not General Broud’s representative, I would skin you alive for dishonouring my daughter, aye, and plunge you in vinegar. Now, you will tell me all I want to know or the Emperor himself will hear of your effrontery. Those Summerlanders and the Flinter: who are they and why are they in my lands? How is it they have passes given by Dominar Broud himself?”
Captain Sendel swallowed hard. He was a sailor, nothing more; he knew the tides and the winds that ruled over the ocean deep, but in the Khan’s court he was hopelessly adrift. He was drunk, and had been played for a fool by the temptress at his side. He was now beholden to her father the Khan, otherwise the gallows would surely await … they might still, whatever he now said.
“Lord Khan, the Gewichas and the mute Turanesci giant are soldiers, men of the 1st Cheamas. They were called to the banners last year, and proved their worth in the overthrow of Sligo.”
“I see. And the girl, and the Flinter with the missing fingers?” Khan Chenkish asked, his eyes piercing and unforgiving, as if striving to pluck the answers from Sendel’s mind without the use of words.
“The Flinter is acting as a guide for the group. He was rescued from the Accarossians by the 1st Cheamas in the Great Marsh. The cruel bastards had him for ten years, hence his scars and mutilations,” Sendel said, shaking his head sadly.
“I’m well aware of their cruelty, Captain. The Khanate was left to their evil predations by the Empire’s muster. That bastard Sligo stripped me of many warriors. If the summer muster had not been so heavy we could have helped defeat the incursion here. As it was … well you saw the damage they did at the port. But far worse were the women and children snatched into slavery, never to be seen again. I strove to be a good friend to the Emperor and where did it get me? It made me unable to adequately defend my people,” the Khan said bitterly, draining his wine cup and holding it out for a servant to refill.
“Lord Khan, that was the treachery of the previous dominar, not the Emperor,” Captain Sendel stuttered in reply, knowing in his heart the emptiness of his words.
The Khan’s face turned, and he stared at the captain, expressionless and cold. “And who made Sligo the dominar, eh? The Emperor did, so I will lay the blame squarely at his door. Things will change around the Cheama; the enemy incursion has caused it to be so. And what if things go awry again against Acaross? Will we suffer slaver raids, or worse, while the Empire abandons us once more? I have demands that you will convey to General Broud in Northport. But I digress, that can wait until tomorrow when your sobriety returns.”
The Khan took a drink of his newly poured wine, letting his words hang in the air around the captain. Once more he turned to face Captain Sendel, his eyes icy and unfriendly.
“The Flinter is a guide, you say? What do they seek then? And what of the Gewichas warrior woman; who is she?”
Captain Sendel sighed. At least his hands had ceased shaking now, but he still felt as if he was in grave danger. “The girl actually fought on the beaches of Broad Holm in General Broud’s retinue. She was also instrumental in the overthrow of Sligo and the exposure of his treachery.”
The Khan’s eyes began to soften, and a smile threatened to shape his mouth. “So what have you just told me then? The discovery and defeat of the dominar’s treachery, and therefore ultimately Broud’s victory, was down to Summerlanders? Northern levies and a mere girl saved your Empire?”
Captain Sendel looked down at his wine cup, at a loss for words. The Khan began to laugh then at the Taleeli captain’s discomfort; a huge deep laugh that began deep in his belly. He wiped tears of laughter from his eyes with his big bear paw of a hand, which then began stroking his beard in contemplation.
“But what is it, I wonder, that draws these things together? What binds the loyalty of a rescued Flinter, two newly recruited warriors, and a girl? Not the love of an Empire, an Empire that destroyed the world of one and tore the others from their homelands … no, I’m missing something here.”
The Khan reached over for a spit roast pigeon on the table. It appeared tiny next to his huge hand, a tiny headless bird freshly cooked on the spit. The Khan inspected the bird, holding it by the wooden skewer that impaled it from rump to headless neck. Headless? Of course!
“You say that those two soldiers are of the 1st Cheamas and they rescued the Flinter in the Great Marsh? What were they doing there, Captain?”
“The 1st Cheamas embarked on a secret mission to scout for and destroy the enemy base hidden in the Talons Delta. I relayed their findings to General Broud and the fleet on the Cheama,” Captain Sendel said proudly.
“The 1st Cheamas don’t sound very much like an Imperial unit of regular troops to me. When were they formed and who is their commander?” the Khan said, taking a bite from the spit roast pigeon.
“General Broud formed them around a nucleus of remnants of the 14th still in the Northern Holdings. He augmented them with some dragoons and newly mustered auxiliaries. Their commander was the man Kaziviere,” the captain said.
“Kaziviere? Never heard of him,” the Khan said matter-of-factly, reaching for his wine cup to wash his mouthful down, feigning disinterest. “But what do you mean was? Did he die on the Talons?”
“Commander Rendroc Kaziviere … and not exactly…” the captain said hesitantly. He hardly understood the tale himself, and wondered how he could word it to the Khan.
“Did you say Rendroc?” asked Queen Shareen, who had been subtly listening to the captain’s questioning.
“Aye, Queen, Commander Rendroc Kaziviere, but ….” The captain was stopped short once again, as the Khan’s wife quickly spoke with her husband.
“You have heard his name my love, I will show you.” Queen Shareen jumped up and clapped her hands. The background hubbub of music, singing, laughter and conversation subsided.
“Good people,” she said, in her honeyed, lilting voice. “Let us remember why we are having this feast. The Cheama is open again, and the accursed enemy cleansed from our shores by the bravery of soldiers and sailors, both Taleeli and Summerlander. We have fought battles against them here on the Chemanite coast. We also have veterans of Dominar Broud’s Cheama campaign here among us.” Queen Shareen gestured in the general direction of Tuan and his companions, but made sure she didn’t make eye contact with any of them. “Let us honour those lost. Musicians: ‘The Maiden’s Lament’. It has more verses these days … and servants; more wine for everyone!”
She sat back down amid the cheering of those gathered, who held out their wine cups for the servants to refill. The musicians began to sing the old Summerland song of loss.
“Watch their reaction, my love,” she said to the Khan. He nodded, not really understanding, but intrigued by his wife’s notion. The musicians began to sing, with everyone joining in the familiar words.
The drums are now beating and the muster has begun
Called to the banners, her true love now has gone,
Torn away from her arms, for the Emperor to serve,
“We’ll wed on my return,” were his parting last words.
So she stood on the cliff, as his ship sailed away,
Far over the Cheama Sea, for a year and a day,
But never again, his white sail did she see,
Felled in battle, left to grieve was she.
Never agai
n would he hold his love true,
His body lay broken far from lands that he knew,
For a grave unknown does this maiden lament,
Into cruel wars so many were sent.
Most of those gathered ceased singing and drank deeply of their wine. The musicians, however, carried on; new verses had been added to the old, carried by minstrels and bards across the Summerlands.
War came to the Cheama by Sligo’s sly hand,
By treachery the enemy stalked the Summerlands,
At the Holms, Broud’s boys bravely battled the foe,
While through the Great Marsh, Lord Rendroc did go.
The Khan watched for reaction from the strange band of companions that Captain Sendel had delivered to his shore. The Watcher was a reader of men. He could see that they were all becoming more uncomfortable as the song progressed. It was clearly keener than any embarrassment that his wife might have caused them, by implying it was being sung partly in their honour. They were looking at the table in front of them, sloshing their wines, their faces grim.
Now Rendroc had a love, a maiden of the north,
Fighting the enemy, his men proved their worth,
But Rendroc was lost, without leaving a trace,
Now this maiden laments with tears on her face.
The Khan watched as the Gewichas woman fought to control her emotions and gently brushed tears from her eyes, while the old Flinter squeezed her hand in support. The Khan smiled at his wife, leant over and kissed her. That was it. This Commander Kaziviere was the key that bound these Summerland companions to the Empire.
“Captain Sendel,” the Khan began, “Cheamanite wines can befuddle the strongest of minds. We will put this unfortunate … incident … behind us, for the good of the Empire we both serve. Besides, I’m sure my daughter will find it in her heart to forgive you. Tomorrow I will receive you and we will discuss the finer details of your mission. Pray, do not drink too heavily; you will need a clear head. However, there are plenty of sources of intimate distraction to be found in Keanasa after the feast. I suggest you scratch that itch you have. Were my son here, he would have killed you outright for daring to attempt to seduce his sister. I, however, am willing to forgive. I will take my leave of you now. Eat your fill, Captain.”