After the meeting, I said to Sharma privately, 'You might have to wait a lot longer than you think.'
Sharma put a hand on my shoulder and said confidently, 'You will see, my old friend – the fruit is so rotten that it just needs a bit of shaking for it to fall into our laps. Make no mistake, the kingdom will be ours soon enough.'
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: DESOLATION
There's one incident that I can point to surely and say, yes, without doubt, there was the first time that Sharma and I broke the bread of shared guilt. That was when I sent the message that summoned Jainar to return to Orihedrin. It was the first serious fracture in our relationship. Set against the sweep of events, it was only a small fracture – but it was a fracture nonetheless. It all began when we faced Jainar’s army on the field of Origun.
When Aebrel became king, Jainar continued to serve as commander of the army and it was clear from the start that he was the real power in Upper Keirine. For instance, to forestall any of the intrigues of Vaxili's reign Jainar told Aebrel bluntly that he, Jainar, would have exclusive control of the army. Furthermore, if there was even a hint – the merest whiff of a hint – of an attempt to remove him as commander then he would depose Aebrel immediately. As for Aebrel – well, what could you say about a man who had all the flaws that one would expect in Vaxili's son along with a few that were uniquely his own? Aebrel was a weakling, a dissolute man who couldn't even arrange things properly in his own life let alone rule a kingdom. He wanted popularity, always took the easy way, and had the moral qualities of a bag of offal together with the diplomatic abilities of a skulking hyena. For instance, he secured a temporary peace by ceding to the Dornites most of the territory that they had conquered while at the same time agreeing to pay them a huge amount in tribute every year. Aebrel seemed to think that he could earn the respect of his people by signing away a quarter of their territory and then raising debilitating taxes to pay tribute to the people who stole their land. It was no surprise that he faced popular protests all over Upper Keirine. Nor was it a surprise that he suppressed the protests ruthlessly in a welter of bloodshed and torture. Then, as if he didn’t have enough on his plate, nine inauspicious months into his reign Aebrel decided that the time was ripe to conquer Lower Keirine. For some reason he thought that he would succeed where his father had failed.
I was with Sharma and the rest of our commanders in our council chamber at Orihedrin when we heard that Jainar and his army were advancing towards our southern border. Sharma said calmly, 'I did not expect them so soon.'
There was silence while we digested the news. Then Abozi said thoughtfully, 'If Jainar is leading them, it's going to be a tough battle.'
It was mid-winter and Sharma was ill with a fever. He was lying on a couch under a pile of blankets, sweating and coughing. He raised his head from the pillow, frowned in displeasure and asked, 'Do you fear him?'
Abozi paused, collected his thoughts, and replied evenly, 'I mean that Jainar is a worthy opponent. In fact, I would say that he respects and fears us. That's why he's leading the army himself.'
Sharma smiled without humour and said, 'Yes. It's a pity that I can't repay the compliment in person.' He propped himself into a sitting position, coughed, and wiped his forehead. I could see that he was getting irritated. Since he defeated Vaxili, Sharma had only known success and promises of future glory. Nowadays, he became impatient with cautious talk even when we were discussing a foe as redoubtable as Jainar. I understood how he felt. At Sharma’s side, lately I too had only known the heady flight of success. Since retreating to the mountains, we had not only retrieved all the ground that we had lost but had climbed a long way further as well – to the steps at the base of the throne of Keirine, in fact. However, unlike Sharma, I had a pervasive sense that success is deceitful. For instance, I remembered all too clearly the ignominy of imprisonment and the desperate days in the desert. Also, I remembered that squat, square-faced man – that same Jainar who was advancing towards us -- who had planned the attack on Asjolorm with meticulous thoroughness so that absolutely nothing was left to chance. However, recognising that Sharma was in no mood for caution, I just said, 'The die has been cast. We have to meet Jainar as soon as possible and preferably before his forces set foot in Lower Keirine.'
Sharma coughed, spat into a bowl, and said, 'Damnation! I'm in no condition for a campaign. You will have to lead the army, Jina.' He fell back against the pillows, coughed violently, and then waved a hand at us, saying, ‘Well, go! Go! Go and deal with Jainar.’ As we turned to leave the chamber, Sharma called me to his side, saying weakly, ‘Jina! A word, if you please.’ He took my hand, grinned bleakly, and said, ‘No need to bring back his head on a lance, eh, Jina! We’re not savages, are we?’
‘No. Nor are we just ordinary soldiers.’
‘We’ve come a long way, haven’t we, Jina, old friend?’ I nodded. Sharma moved his hand to my waist, saying, ‘I see that you still have the belt.’
‘I told you that I would always wear it.’
‘Of course you did! And the loyal Jina always keeps his word, doesn’t he?’
‘When I give it freely – yes, I keep it.’
Sharma coughed so hard that is body was wracked by the spasms, squeezed my hand, and muttered, ‘Go and deal with Jainar.’
It was an assignment not to be taken lightly. Weighing up the situation, I reckoned that Jainar would have the advantage of a larger force, with solders that would probably be better armed and equipped. However, our army would have the advantage of fitness and experience, going right back to the time when we operated in the wilderness. Another advantage was that we had never lost a battle unlike the soldiers who were marching to meet us. Also, we had Sharma at our back together with a united populace while the enemy force was backed by the weak and indecisive Aebrel together with a restless and dissatisfied people.
When I said these things to my brother as we marched southwards, Abozi just nodded non-commitedly and grunted, 'We shall see.'
I grinned to myself. Abozi was always like this before an engagement. But when battle commenced, he was as solid as a rock and as workmanlike as a reaper scything his way through a field.
Abozi jerked his head backwards and said, 'It's probably just as well that we've got them with us.'
He was referring to the squad of Dornite mercenaries who were marching behind us, their feather-crested helmets slung over their backs and their kilts swinging. Durgenu provided the mercenaries at what he called cut-rate prices, saying that it was always an honour to do business with his respected colleagues, Sharma and Jina.
I replied, 'I wouldn't have thought the day would come when I would march out to do battle together with a squad of Dornites.'
Abozi asked, 'How are you going to use them?'
'I'll put them in the centre.'
Abozi leaned towards me and asked confidentially, 'Can we depend on them in the centre?'
'Depend on them? I'll wager my life on it.'
Abozi asked doubtfully, 'You think so?'
'I know so, Abozi. Look at it like this -- our own people can turn and run home when the going gets tough. But where would the Dornites run to?'
Abozi snorted. 'They'd also run home. Dornites have homes, too.'
'Maybe. But every man, woman, and child along the way would harass them to settle old scores. And home for them is a lot further than Orihedrin.'
Abozi said gruffly, 'Well, we'll see.'
On the field of Origun, we defeated Jainar's army. It was a close-run affair, like two evenly matched wrestlers who strive against each other while clasped together, weight against weight, heave against heave, searching for the first sign of weakness. Finally the break came as it always did. After nearly two hours, the Dornites managed to drive a wedge through the centre of Jainar's forces. On our right flank, Abozi saw the opportunity and drove our men inward on to the enemy forces. They fell back against each other and our forces drove into them from three directions. Jainar’s army swayed, crump
led, and then began to scatter.
Abozi led a detachment in close pursuit, pressing forward at speed until Jainar and some of his men regrouped on the hillside. Our forces halted and looked at the opposing force warily. There was an impasse. Suddenly someone broke ranks and ran forward up the hill. It was Abozi. He stopped a few paces from their front rank and shouted something. Jainar stepped forward and shouted something in return. Then the two men exchanged a volley of words. Later, I was told what was said during the encounter. Abozi shouted, ‘Jainar, the battle isn’t over yet. Come out and fight man to man.’
Jainar asked calmly, 'Is that you, Abozi brother of Jina?'
'It is.'
Jainar said, 'I remember you well from the old days. I have no quarrel with you. If you want to fight hand to hand, challenge one of the young men. Fight against a young man and you might get reward and honour.'
Abozi called, 'I’m challenging you, Jainar, not some insignificant member of your army. Come out and face me if you’re not a coward.'
Jainar replied, 'A coward? I’ve defeated more men than you have years in your life! You know that or you wouldn’t be challenging me.’
‘Then come out and face me if you’re not a coward.’
Jainar responded patiently, ‘I don't want to strike you down. I have no quarrel with you and I will not fight against you.'
I could see what was happening even if I couldn't hear what was being said. I yelled at Abozi, ordering him to stand back but he was too far away to hear me. He would have ignored me, anyway, in his blood-mad, glory-seeking mood. I don't know what got into him. Perhaps he felt that he had walked in my shadow for too long and that now was the time to make a name for himself. Perhaps he was infected by battle-craziness. I really don't know.
Abozi's reply to Jainar was to rise to his full height, swing his shield into place, shouting our war cry – ‘Shar-ma! Shar-ma!’ -- and rush forward. Jainar retreated a few paces and crouched, covering himself with his shield. As Abozi reached him, Jainar thrust the butt of his spear forward at a steep angle. To be fair to Jainar, he put the butt-end forward to minimise injury. But he didn’t have to do it. He could just have withdrawn to the protection of the ranks. The spear passed under Abozi's shield and hit him in the stomach. Abozi was moving with such speed that the butt passed right through him. He doubled over, shuddered, and died on the spot.
When I saw my brother fall, I wanted to rush forward and throw myself onto Jainar. Of course I couldn’t, because he was too far away. In any case, even while I was filled with horror and outrage I knew better than to indulge in personal vendettas on the battlefield. A commander's work is to defeat the enemy forces, clear them from the field, and then pursue them to wreak the maximum amount of destruction. As I learned from Zaliek, personal feelings such as vanity and desire for revenge just get in the way of the task.
Suppressing my seething emotions, I assembled our men for an orderly pursuit. At the second battle of Gandonda, I saw what could happen when a pursuing force rushes forward in disorganised waves like a pack of yelping hounds. The enemy can rally at any time and within a few minutes victory can be compromised. I wasn’t going to allow that to happen here.
Late in the afternoon, Jainar rallied some of his men on another hilltop. By the looks of them, they were the core of what remained of Vaxili’s royal guard -- men of Vaxili's tribe, and Jainar's, too. They would be a tough proposition.
Although we were victorious, we were in no position to press forward. We were far from the rest of our army and we didn't have the resources to put a cordon around Jainar's force. Besides, if we did try to do so, the chances were that Jainar would strike at one of our weakest points under cover of darkness.
I was considering the position when Jainar stepped forward. He stood squarely with legs apart and shouted, 'Jina, for how long will we oppose each other? Isn't there enough bitterness already?’
I replied, ‘More than enough, I would say.’
Jainar continued, ‘Aren’t we all men of the same nation?’
‘We are. What of it?’
Jainar put down his shield and sword and stood there in just his tunic and breastplate. He raised his arms, palms forward, and shouted in reply, ‘Order your men to stop pursuing their brothers and we can all depart in peace.'
I replied, 'Jainar, you speak of brothers and yet you killed my only brother.'
Jainar answered, 'I regret it. But he challenged me and I couldn't avoid him. He died honourably as a soldier should. Be grateful for that.'
Now that I was so close to Jainar, rage pounded through my veins. I was on the verge of rushing forward to attack him myself. In fact, I had already half-drawn my sword when sanity prevailed. I got a grip on myself, pushed my sword back, and shouted, 'Death is a soldier's closest companion. We have not lived honourably until we have died honourably.' It was a politic answer that concealed what I really felt. Privately, I resolved that one day Jainar would pay for my brother's death. However, in the meantime I had to attend to my duties.
Jainar acknowledged my words with a wave of his hand. He said something to his men and they lowered their shields. They stood at ease, regarding us warily while my men did the same. I shouted, ‘If you agree, then we will conclude the engagement.’
Jainar shouted back, ‘That’s as it should be. Brothers shouldn’t be at each other’s throats.’
I said, ‘Then brothers shouldn’t attack brothers.’ Jainar made a resigned movement with his hand but said nothing. I took a few steps forward and shouted, ‘I have a message for Aebrel.’
Jainar replied, ‘I can carry a message as well as anyone.’
‘Tell your master that there is only one anointed king in Keirine and that king is Sharma. Tell Aebrel that he only continues to rule Upper Keirine because Sharma does not want to cause further suffering to the nation. Tell Aebrel that his days are numbered. If he abdicates, Sharma will treat him with consideration. If not, he will lose everything.’
Jainar replied, ‘I will deliver your message. But remember that Aebrel rules because of the strength of his general and his army not because of Sharma's kindness. Remember that, when you are tempted to think otherwise.’ Jainar raised his hand in salute and stepped backwards into the ranks.
I ordered the trumpeter to blow the signal for a halt to the pursuit, posted a rearguard, and led the main force back down the hill. When we reached the bottom, I stopped and looked back. Jainar and his men had disappeared.
We won an overwhelming victory, losing less than fifty men as against nearly four hundred on the other side. I should have celebrated our achievement except that Abozi was amongst the dead. When I returned from the battlefield with the body of my brother draped over the back of a donkey, I passed through one of the heaviest periods of my life. To make it even heavier, I could not show my grief because, as commander, I couldn't allow anything to spoil the celebratory atmosphere amongst the men. They would interpret sadness, bitterness, or regret on my part as a reproach to them. But inside, I was grieving and lacerated. I had not felt like this since I lost Dana. The world was desolate and I hated Jainar for making it so.
Abozi was only twenty-two years of age when he died. Marching towards our home in Osicedi to bury him, I kept thinking of how quickly time had passed since we were children. Only a few years ago, Abozi was a schoolboy walking the fields with me to learn how to be a shepherd. Then he was a lanky and fresh-faced youth, roaming the hills with the sheep as I had done before him. Next, in quick succession, he became a soldier, my companion in Vaxili's prison cell, our comrade in the desert, and a respected commander in Orihedrin. Saddest of all, I remembered that our mother had a special love for Abozi. She called him the last-born lamb, the unexpected gift that arrived when she thought that she would not carry a child again. She would say to my father and me, 'He is Zabrazal's special gift to all of us.'
Now Abozi was dead, his corpse lashed over the back of a donkey. As we marched northwards, my heart shriveled when I thought ab
out how my mother would react to the news. My father died only a few years ago and now she would also have to bear the death of her youngest son, her beloved late-born lamb. Especially, I remembered how, after my father's death, she said to Abozi and me, 'I don't know if I can bear to see one of you die before me.'
I stayed in Osicedi for two days to comfort my mother and to make arrangements for Abozi to be buried in the tomb with our father. Then I led the army back to Orihedrin. My mother begged me to stay for the funeral but I knew my duty. Osicedi wasn’t a garrison town. If the army stayed too long, there would be trouble – fighting, drunkenness, whoring, and all the rest of the undisciplined behaviour that occurs when soldiers are idle. The troops had to leave as soon as possible and it was my duty as commander to lead them. Leaving my mother behind with the corpse of my brother, I led the troops out of Osicedi, heading down the red-dirt road to Orihedrin. The dust that filled my eyes and nostrils matched the aridity in my soul.
CHAPTER NINETEEN: ASCENT TO POWER
After the battle, matters in Upper Keirine deteriorated quickly. As if to compensate for losing the battle, or possibly to forestall any impression that he had been weakened, Jainar tightened his grip so much that Aebrel was hardly more than a hostage on his own throne. Jainar took all the decisions and made all the moves while Aebrel wallowed in wine, consoled himself with his ever-growing collection of women and performed a few ceremonial functions.
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