The Rise of Aredor

by Claire M Banschbach

  They jumped cleanly over but Inzi stumbled as she landed. Hamíd was knocked off balance as she tripped, and the mare bucked, sending him flying to the ground. He lay still for a moment, trying to regain his breath. He sat up as Inzi came walking up to nose at him. Laughing at her, he gently smacked her nose, sending her shying away. He stood slowly and picked up the bow, undamaged by the fall. He caught the reins and led her back over to where the captains stood. Azrahil’s face was a mixture of concern and amusement as they came up.

  “I told you to be careful over that ditch!” Jaffa said.

  “Yes, sir, I know. I’m fine by the way.”

  “Does that happen often?” Azrahil asked.

  “Yes, sir. She gets me almost every time. Yesterday was a bit more spectacular,” Hamíd said with a rare smile as Azrahil chuckled.

  “Retrieve your arrows, Hamíd, and then you can have the rest of the day off,” Azrahil said.

  “Thank you, sir.” Hamíd mounted again and rode off.

  Azrahil watched him go then turned to Jaffa. “You know, I’ve never seen him smile like that before.”

  “He’s always happier around the animals. I swear sometimes it’s like he can understand what they’re thinking,” Jaffa said. “I don’t know his bloodline, but he’s got such a natural instinct for weapons and fighting, it’s unbelievable.”

  “I know,” Azrahil agreed. “He’s learning quickly. If I’m not careful, he’ll be able to beat me pretty soon.”

  Jaffa laughed. “When that happens, you can always have him fight Emeth. Maybe he can beat those double swords for you.”

  Azrahil shook his head ruefully as Jaffa clapped him on the shoulder.

  Hoofbeats sounded behind them and Jaffa turned to the rider. “He’s retrieving arrows, Emeth.”

  “Thank you, sir. Captain.” Emeth threw a salute to Azrahil before riding toward Hamíd, raising a shout in Rhyddan.

  Hamíd gave an answering wave. The two captains watched them talk to each other in their own language as Emeth said something that prompted another rare smile from Hamíd. He threw an answer back at Emeth then spurred his horse into a gallop. Emeth laughed and chased after him.

  “Emeth usually come down here?” Azrahil asked.

  “Yes, sometimes Ahmed comes with him. They’ve struck up quite a friendship with Hamíd,” Jaffa answered.

  “Good, that’s what he needs most of all: friendship and trust,” Azrahil said. “I should get back to the castle now. Lord Rishdah will want a full report on today. A pleasure as always, Captain.”

  * * *

  A few short months later, Hamíd stood before Lord Rishdah in a large chamber. The lord had witnessed the final trials that Azrahil and Jaffa had put Hamíd through and was now ready to give his verdict.

  “You have repaid my trust and became what I saw in you. Hamíd, you have earned your place in the Guard,” Lord Rishdah said. He drew his scimitar and held it out.

  Hamíd knelt and laid his hand on the hilt, and in the presence of the other four members of the Phoenix Guard, he swore the oath.

  “I, Hamíd, do swear to protect the Lord Rishdah and his possessions with my life. I swear to stand by him and serve honestly and faithfully until I am so released or until my death.”

  “And I, Lord Rishdah, do accept and take you into my service,” Lord Rishdah replied, sheathing his sword as Hamíd rose.

  Nicar stopped to congratulate Hamíd before accompanying Lord Rishdah from the chamber. Emeth and Ahmed stayed for a few minutes until they had to return to their various duties. Azrahil then took Hamíd to the Guard’s armory. He handed Hamíd the black-and-red uniform of the Phoenix Guard. Reaching onto a shelf, he pulled down two leather arm bracers.

  “There’s a thin sheet of steel inside each. It’s been forged such that it does not bend or break unless under severe circumstances. It’s the best thing for blocking a blow. You’ll soon get used to the added weight.” Azrahil handed them to Hamíd.

  He took them and saw a rising phoenix etched into the leather on one of the bracers. He set them aside as Azrahil took a scimitar down from the wall.

  “Tell me what you think.” The captain handed it to Hamíd. The razor-sharp edge of the blade glittered brightly in the light of the torches. The handle was tightly bound in black leather all the way to the carved pommel. Hamíd tested the balance of the blade as he hefted it. The scimitar seemed to fit perfectly into his hand. It was not an elaborate blade, but it was perfect for a warrior. He sheathed it and offered it back to Azrahil.

  “It’s beautiful, one of the best I’ve ever seen,” he said.

  Azrahil made no move to take it. “It’s yours. I had it made for you a few months ago after I saw how talented you were. It suits you well, and I know you’ll put it to good use. Jaffa had Inzi brought up to the stables for you. She’s quartered next to our horses. There’s a new bunk for you inside the barracks. You can move your things over tonight. You did me proud, lad. You’re one of the best I’ve ever trained.”

  “Thank you, sir. For everything,” Hamíd said.

  “Time for that later,” Azrahil said gruffly. “You made it to the Guard, but there’s plenty more training to come.” He added two daggers to the pile of weapons along with a coat of chain mail and a sturdy leather tunic. Once he was finished, Azrahil sent him to change into the uniform.

  Hamíd settled easily into the routine of the Guards. One to two of the Guards always stayed with Lord Rishdah night and day; sometimes a guard would be assigned to either of Rishdah’s sons. Every six hours, the guard would change with Azrahil over-seeing the changes.

  His spare hours were filled with more training, this time with the other members of the Guard who held nothing back. The Phoenix Guard was comprised of the best men under Lord Rishdah’s command and they were determined there would be no question he belonged. It wasn’t long before he learned firsthand that they did more than protect Lord Rishdah and his family. They were the warriors he chose first when confronted with a difficult mission or task.

  * * *

  Two months had almost passed since Hamíd took the oath when startling but not unexpected news arrived. He was on duty with Lord Rishdah when an errand rider dressed in the livery of the Sultaan was brought before Lord Rishdah. After reading the dispatch, Lord Rishdah summoned his captains.

  “I received word an hour ago that the Sultaan and the king of Argus have declared war on each other. The Sultaan has ordered me to take command of his troops and march to the border to engage the Argusians. We are to meet with the main army in three days’ time. Jaffa, mobilize your men. Assign a force to remain here and protect the castle. Hamíd, you are dismissed for now. Tell the others to prepare to leave tomorrow morning,” Lord Rishdah said.

  “Yes, sir.” Hamíd saluted and left the council room while Rishdah and his captains began discussing the intricate details of providing for their forces.

  Emeth was off duty and cleaning his weapons when Hamíd found him.

  “I saw the rider come in. What’s the news?” he asked.

  “The Sultaan declared war on Argus. Lord Rishdah was given command of the army. We leave tomorrow morning,” Hamíd told him.

  “Finally! It’s been unutterably boring around here for the last five months. We’ll see some action at last!” Emeth buckled his swords back on.

  Hamíd couldn’t help thinking that his current definition of “boring” was very different from Emeth’s.

  Together, they went to alert Nicar and Ahmed. The Guards spent the rest of the day packing their belongings and provisions and inspecting their horses to make sure they would hold up for the longs months of campaign that were coming. The next morning, Lord Rishdah and Ismail rode out with half of his force to meet with the Sultaan’s army. Jaffa would join him with the other half as soon as they could.

  Hamíd was overwhelmed at the sight of the army awaiting them. Thousands of men were encamped on the plains around the road. As they threaded through the mazes of tents and
myriad banners of other lords, Hamíd caught himself looking for the leopard of Balkor’s house. Confrontation would be unavoidable in Lord Rishdah’s presence. He wasn’t sure that even with his training and relative freedom he’d be ready to face the man again.

  “He’s not here.” Emeth nudged his stallion alongside him. “I heard Rishdah ask.”

  Hamíd turned his gaze to where Lord Rishdah rode a few lengths away, still unfamiliar with someone looking out for him. He noticed for the first time the occasional glances Azrahil and Nicar tipped back to him and when Ahmed closed the distance between them when there was room. The weight lifted with Emeth’s words and his companions gave him more room as he relaxed. He turned to thank Emeth, but the Braeton just nodded and flicked his mount away.

  It took a few days to get the troops in position and ready to continue the march to the border. Once there, Lord Rishdah divided the army into three smaller forces, taking command of one and assigning Murad, the general of the Sultaan’s army, to the second. Another general by the name of Tahmid took charge of the third force. Murad was the first to encounter the enemy as he fought for and took control of an Argusian town just east of the border.

  * * *

  The afternoon sun shone down brilliantly on Lord Rishdah’s army. Hamíd squinted against the light reflected off the sand. They had entered into the Argusian Desert on their way to attack the city of Makurung. So far, the going had been miserable. The army did not just have to contend with the overwhelming heat of the desert but also with attacks made by the Argusians.

  The enemy was unlike anything Hamíd had ever seen. The Argusians were tall, fierce men with jet-black skin. They wore loose, flowing robes to withstand the heat of the desert. Masters of horses and of the chariot, they wielded fearsome double-pointed spears with great efficiency. Those on foot carried axes or heavy curved blades along with rectangular wooden shields covered in cowhide.

  The enemy knew the desert well and used it to their advantage. They would spring suddenly from the sands or come thundering from the desert in their light chariots, strike, and disappear.

  The further they struck into the desert, many questioned the decision but Lord Rishdah viewed Makurung as a strategic opportunity. The city lay two days from the coast and the city of Gondeni and a day’s journey from the southern town of Ncorha, now occupied by Murad. If the Calorins controlled the western cities of Argus, then they would be able to march unhindered across the desert and take Dzingahe, the city of the Argusian king. Lord Rishdah pushed his men as hard as he could in the heat in order to reach the city by the third day in the desert.

  By means of unseen scouts, the Argusians became aware of their plans and moved to cut off Rishdah and his army. When the towers of Makurung came into view, the battle lines of the Argusians waited in front of the city. Lord Rishdah moved his men into position, placing his cavalry in front to counter the enemy’s chariots. Drums pounded a heavy rhythm and horns blared as the two armies closed.

  The cavalry wove in between the chariots while attempting to cut the lines or take down the archers and spearmen that stood on the swaying platforms. Hamíd found himself in the thick of the fight alongside the rest of the Phoenix Guard. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Emeth leap from his stallion into a chariot, knocking the driver and spearman to the ground before disabling it. Again, Emeth made a dangerous leap from the chariot to the back of the galloping horse that pulled it. Cutting the tracers, he left the light vehicle to tumble into ruin. Wheeling his new mount, Emeth joined Ahmed, who fought alongside Ismail.

  Hamíd saw an Argusian with a spear raised to kill a soldier, and spurring Inzi forward, he grabbed the spear and moved alongside a chariot. Dodging an arrow, he leaned over and rammed the spear into the spinning wheel of the chariot, jamming the wheel and smashing the chariot. Hamíd turned and began to fight his way back to Lord Rishdah.

  A mounted Argusian pulled alongside him. Lunging, the man knocked Hamíd from his horse. Without time to think, Hamíd drew his sword and moved into the familiar motions of hand-to-hand combat. A young Calorin soldier was hemmed in by a fallen chariot. Hamíd fought over to his side and helped him drive away the deadly Argusian spearmen. The soldier’s helmet had come off, and Hamíd recognized him.

  “Castimir! What are you doing here?” he yelled over the chaos of battle.

  Castimir, the youngest son of Lord Rishdah, answered as he parried a sword blow. “Fighting. Father wouldn’t let me come, so I ran away.”

  Hamíd grabbed a thrusting spear and killed its carrier. Gaining a temporary respite, Hamíd turned to him.

  “What are you going to do if your father finds out?”

  “I’ll make sure he doesn’t,” Castimir answered.

  “What about me?” Hamíd asked. “You going to get rid of me so I don’t tell him? What happens when we find your dead body on the battlefield?”

  “I can take care of myself!” Castimir retorted. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to fight! Ismail has been in scores of battles even before he was my age. You would have done the same!” He grabbed his helmet and pulled it back on. “Thanks, and good-bye!” He ran off before Hamíd could stop him.

  Nicar rode up, leading Inzi. “You all right, Hamíd?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir, I’m fine,” Hamíd replied.

  Nicar tossed the reins to him. “Mount up. The Argusians are regrouping, and Lord Rishdah has ordered a retreat.”

  Hamíd cast a last glance around for Castimir, but he had disappeared into the tumult. They rejoined the rest of the Guard as trumpets rang out, signaling a retreat. The Argusians were content to let them withdraw, sending small groups of soldiers out to watch their progress and cause small skirmishes. By the end of the day, Hamíd was exhausted, having ridden out on more than one sortie to drive away the Argusians.

  With a large army still between him and Makurung, Lord Rishdah decided to join Murad at Ncorha and combine forces. They arrived at the town two days later, slowed by the wounded and by sandstorms. Lord Rishdah quartered his forces outside the walls of the town while he met in council with Murad to decide how best to reassign forces for another attack on Makurung.

  Hamíd walked down out of the town. He was off duty and had a few spare hours and was in search of Castimir. He hadn’t yet said anything about the young man’s presence with the army, something he knew was dangerous to keep to himself. But he had been forced to agree with the fact he would have done the same. Some part of him hoped to find Castimir and convince him to leave, as if his words held any weight. As he passed through the gate, he heard his name called. He was surprised to see Castimir himself hurrying after him.

  “Hamíd, what news?” He gave Hamíd a friendly slap on the shoulder.

  Hamíd was somewhat taken aback by the gesture. “Why are you asking me, sir?”

  Castimir flashed a smile. “Well, since Father hasn’t torn the camp apart looking for me yet, I assumed you didn’t tell anyone. So I partly came to thank you, I guess. And I still want to know what’s going on.”

  Hamíd shook his head. “You should wait to hear that from your commanding officer.”

  “Oh, come on!” Castimir groaned in frustration.

  The beginnings of a rare grin began to spread over Hamíd’s face. “What if I don’t tell you?”

  “I take it all back, I hate you!” Castimir pleaded for a few more minutes and Hamíd finally relented.

  “All right, we’re going back to Makurung in a few days.”

  “Is that all?” Castimir asked suspiciously.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “No, I don’t think it is,” a stern voice broke in.

  Hamíd and Castimir turned and found themselves looking into the piercing eyes of Azrahil.

  “You both have some serious explaining to do.”

  Chapter 5

  Lord Rishdah was furious when he found out that Castimir had joined the army against his orders. Castimir stood in silence during the lecture his father delivered that conta
ined threats of numerous different punishments.

  “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Lord Rishdah finally asked.

  “No, sir. Just please don’t punish Hamíd. He tried to get me to go back,” Castimir said.

  “I’m leaving his punishment to Azrahil. He has failed in his duties.”

  “No, he didn’t! He saved me from getting killed down at Makurung. Please, Father!”

  Lord Rishdah frowned. “Leave now, Castimir, while I determine your punishment.”

  Castimir left the room and slouched dejectedly on a bench in the narrow hallway. Azrahil stormed through the hallway followed by Hamíd and knocked on the door to Lord Rishdah’s chamber.

  “Stay here,” he ordered as he entered the chamber.

  Hamíd slumped against the wall. They waited for a few minutes before Castimir broke the silence.

  “What’s going to happen to you?” he asked.

  Hamíd shrugged. “Don’t know. I heard just about every punishment imaginable within the space of a few minutes.”

  “Same here. I’m really sorry I got you into this,” Castimir said.

  Hamíd gave a wry smile. “Thanks, I’m going to need that thought here in a few minutes.”

  They didn’t have to wait long before being called back into the chamber together.

  “Well, it seems that neither of you think that the other should be punished,” Lord Rishdah began. “Therefore you will share the punishment.” He gestured for Azrahil to continue.

  “Hamíd, you will escort Castimir home, and you will remain there until sent for, which will be at my discretion. I do not have to tell you what will happen if you fail to obey orders this time.”

  “Yes, sir,” Hamíd replied somberly.

  “Is everything understood?” Lord Rishdah asked.

  “Yes, sir,” came the reply from both young men.

  “Good, supplies will be made ready. You’ll have to go on foot until the border. You can get horses there. Pack your things. You will leave in an hour,” Lord Rishdah announced.