Lions of Istan

by Fuad Baloch

  Liaman and Deraman continued to mutter all the way as they led him through the camp and toward the distant copse where a couple of carriages stood beside a massive command tent, the flag of the Istani Sultanate fluttering proudly over it.

  Shoki wanted to ask the men what had happened, whether they had taken any part in the fighting outside the city walls, but for the moment thoughts of his own took over.

  What was the village? Who were the strange people he had met over there? How had he fallen to sleep only to find himself outside the city walls?

  Jadu?

  That was the only logical reason he could up with. And if he hadn't been the one to cast it, it must have been the hosts.

  Shaking his head, he looked up at the command tent. His heart skipped a beat. Was Nuraya in there this very second? His body recalled the scent of her warm body against his that night, the press of her soft lips against his, his hands running down her back. He felt himself stiffen and snapped out of the daydreaming.

  “How is she?” he asked. “The sultana, I mean.”

  “Being her regal self,” shrugged Liaman.

  “A... most profound answer.”

  “Isn’t it?” beamed the bald ugly. “Mother always thought I could’ve been a poet had I been born in the Mercantile quarter and not the one with all the whores.”

  “Quite, quite.”

  Liaman opened his jaw as if wanting to say something just as his eyes looked ahead. He snapped his jaw shut and came to an abrupt stop.

  Taking his lead, Shoki stopped too and followed their gaze.

  Jinan Hoshbar, the smug, self-satisfied mercenary siphsalar scowled down his large nose at Shoki. “You again!”

  Shoki coughed. “I could’ve said the same.”

  “Where are the soldiers you were meant to bring to our cause?”

  “Oh, and where are all the victories your military genius was meant to have brought us?” Shoki may not have known what the men had been up to since he had been away, but obviously he struck close to home judging by the way Jinan’s eyes narrowed.

  “Take him away,” sneered the mercenary salar. “I have no need for men who cannot deliver what they were meant to.”

  “Wait!” cried out Shoki. “I need to see the sultana.”

  “Why?”

  Shoki opened his jaw. What did he really want to see her for? Was there any good reason beyond this irrational need to lay his eye upon her face once more? “I... erm... have news only for her ears.”

  Jinan scoffed. “Like I’m that gullible! Now, run before...” he trailed away as the flap over the command tent rose and Sultana Nuraya walked out.

  The sun was at its peak, glaring down at the earth with all its ferocity and splendor, but even it held nothing to the woman who stared at him now. Dressed in a tight-fitting leather vest and glinting iron greaves, the long hair tied back in a ponytail, the green eyes blazing, Nuraya looked the very picture of a warrior princess. Before Shoki could say anything, the flap rose once more, and three more men emerged.

  Men wearing black turbans. Magi.

  His blood froze as he gaped at the men who could wield the same powers as had his hosts the other night.

  Same powers as him, he realized with some alarm.

  “Shoki?” said Nuraya, her voice high, surprised. She waved a dismissive arm, and the two mercenaries who had accompanied him stepped away. “What are you doing here?”

  “That... is a very good question.” His eyes traveled to the magi. Maharis scowled at him, the glare sending shivers down his spine. “You wouldn't believe even if I told you.”

  One of the magi behind Maharis stepped forward, sniffed at him like a dog would a bone.

  “Hey!” protested Shoki, stepping to the side.

  “Considering the distance between the north-west and Algaria, this man stands guilty of abandoning his mission halfway to carry out your orders, and deserves an exacting punishment,” declared Jinan.

  Nuraya’s face hardened. She raised her head toward him, wincing slightly as she adjusted her weight. “Is that true?”

  “I... erm... I was kidnapped as I was en route—”

  “Shoki,” interrupted Nuraya. “Once, I might have snapped at you, but now... I just don’t have the time for excuses. Not anymore.” She sighed, her face crumpling. Shoki felt his heartbeat quicken, a premonition ringing within his chest. Nuraya turned to the magi. “You know what to do?”

  “Aye,” replied Maharis. “We’ll begin readying our wells of magic.”

  “M-magic?” Shoki stuttered, glancing at the magi, then back at the sultana. The words he’d heard the other night drifted up in his mind. Stronger now, clearer almost as if some barrier keeping them back was giving way.

  Inhuman voices. Not ones that belong to the djinn either, something he knew instinctively.

  The pari then.

  He’d been kidnapped by the pari folk.

  Shoki shuddered, felt the world sway around him. He could now feel the strength, the potential of jadu rage within Maharis, just as the voices grew ever louder in his mind. Was that what happened when one worked magic, this weakening of whatever barrier that separated those voices from the likes of him?

  “Magic, jadu,” whined Jinan, his handsome face scrunching in disgust. “Must we reduce ourselves to using the abominations?”

  “Aye,” agreed Shoki. “Y-you can’t do that. Shouldn’t.”

  Maharis scoffed. “My sultana, your erstwhile emissary forgets his place.”

  Shoki shook his head. Nuraya raised her hand again. “Maharis, time’s wasting.”

  “As you will, my sultana!” the old magus offered a curt bow, then gesturing at the two magi to follow him, began tramping toward the carriages.

  Shoki watched them go, his mouth dry. Something was wrong. Hadn’t the magi always been kept back by the inquisitors of the Kalb? Wasn’t it the sultan who was meant to enforce that? He looked around. Why did no one else seem to bat an eyelid at what she was saying? Had something happened while he was away?

  Again, the voices whispered at him. Unearthly, smooth, vile. Once more, he felt the potential of jadu swirl around him.

  A flash of insight cut through the fog in his mind.

  Pari folk had to be kept away. And if they were getting stronger, that was something to resist.

  Why was no one else seeing that?

  Nuraya had turned to the side. Shoki cleared his throat, took a step forward. “Nuraya, stop the magi. We cannot… let the magi weaken the Divide between the worlds.”

  “You dare call the sultana by her name?” growled Jinan. “Watch your tongue or I’ll pull it out.”

  Shoki paid him no mind, his eye fixed on the woman who had taken his heart and now threatened to unleash a danger that paralyzed him with terror. “Shoki,” she said after a long moment, “just because you spent some time with a magus doesn't make you an authority on what it all means.”

  “Oh, but I do know the dangers of magi,” he replied hotly, the words spilling away from him before he could restrain himself, “for I am one too!”

  Behind him, Liaman and Deraman gasped. Jinan startled, his hand lowering to the sword tied to his waist. Only Nuraya showed no immediate reaction.

  Long moments passed as Shoki realized the ramifications of what he had just declared. In the world before the civil wars had broken out, these words would have been enough to condemn him to stewardship of the inquisitors. In this broken world, where the claimant to the crown had apparently little concern for the Kalb, where would his admission lead him?

  “Remain in the camp. I might have need of you,” she said coldly, then began walking back toward her tent.

  Shoki’s heart thundered as she watched her retreat. Admissions had a strange paradoxical power. By lowering one’s soft underbelly, they seemed to give great power to push forth with even more preposterous ones.

  He lurched forward, his long strides bringing him close to her. “I have another admission to make.”


  The men behind him hissed but didn't step forward to apprehend him. Perhaps, that was the fear of laying hands on a magus. Then again, in that moment, Shoki would not have bowed to anyone. In this moment, even if the Iron Sultan himself had been present, Shoki would have plowed on. Even if—

  Nuraya turned and Shoki felt his resolve melt. “And what that might be, Shoki Malook?”

  He licked his lips, suddenly conscious of the insurmountable differences that separated the two of them. He exhaled, sending a silent prayer to the Atishi and Husalmin and Fanna gods. “I... love you,” he whispered. He cleared his throat. “I have done so for a long time. For as long as I can remember. And that night... after…. you know what happened, I have not been able to think of much else.”

  She stared at him for a long breath, the corners of her mouth twitching. “Shoki, like I said, remain in the camp. I might have need of you in the battle that’s about to come.”

  With that, the Sultana of Istan, the world’s most beautiful woman turned around and marched off.

  Chapter 40

  Nuraya

  In the privacy of her tent, Nuraya howled wordlessly, Shoki’s words ringing in her mind. She shook her head, still reeling from her shameful defeat. Everything had gone wrong. Kismet had been conspiring against her from the beginning. She was meant to have swooped into the capital as its liberator—that was the right thing that should have happened—and instead, all she had to show was a retreat, and half her forces lost to defection.

  “Vishan!” she spat the name, her fingers clenching. “When I see you, I’m going to draw your bowels out through your mouth!”

  She should have seen the warning signs a long time ago. All his exhortations, suggestions were meant to steer her one way—toward certain defeat. Jinan had never trusted the man. Maybe she should have listened to him more. Mona had been certainly doing a lot of that—all that time the two of them had been sneaking away in the night during their hard march.

  Shoki was a magus?

  She blinked at the thought intruding through the rest, knew full well the real shock of the admission was still to follow. Anyway, she had other things to worry about for the moment.

  Magi, that she’d be using against her brothers.

  Men chattered outside still, their voices low, no longer punctuated by bouts of shrill laughter that had been their hallmark up until now. It seemed even the weathered mercenaries had limits to how much they could ignore. Or, they loathed and feared what was to come as much as Jinan.

  How long would the magi need to be ready?

  The tent flap lifted. She didn't need to turn to know who that would be.

  “My sultana,” said Mona, gliding over to her. “Are you alright?”

  Nuraya barked a laugh. “So, you know about my defeat at the battlefield as well?”

  Her friend didn't respond. Instead she stepped closer, then leaned in to take one of her hands in hers. “Nuraya, sometimes it’s alright to... let go.”

  Let go?

  Nuraya glared, offended that she could be expected to let go of her emotions like a commoner. Except when she opened her jaw, the cursed tears decided to leak through. Wincing, Nuraya turned her face away from Mona. If she saw the dampness on her cheeks, Mona said nothing.

  Instead, Mona took another step forward and pulled her into an embrace. At first, Nuraya tried to resist, to push away the one person who had been her friend way before they had drifted away.

  Mona didn't let go, clinging to her like her own mother never had. Her lithe body rocked as she too sobbed now, her face crushing into Nuraya’s shoulder.

  For long moments, both stood like that.

  Nuraya had matters to take care of though. Affairs on a scale that Mona could never understand. Exhaling, she gently pushed her friend to the side. Mona sobbed, took a step toward her, but Nuraya stalled her advance with a hand. “It’s time for the magi.”

  “Should… we not wait to see if Kinas has sent word? Perhaps, he wishes to parley, strike an alliance?”

  “I know him. He had a chance to attack me as I was retreating. He didn’t. He knows I’m defeated, and expects me to crawl up to him, groveling.” She nodded, convinced she was on the right path. “My mind is made up.”

  Drawing in a lungful of air, Nuraya walked out the tent.

  Queen Aleena was striding over from her carriage, the three magi beside her. “Daughter, I heard what you’re planning.”

  Nuraya narrowed her eyes, bracing herself.

  “I approve. You really haven’t got a better option at present.”

  Nuraya blinked, taken aback by her reaction. Then again, this wasn’t the time to linger.

  “And I hear we’ve got another magus,” she drawled.

  Nuraya raised an eyebrow. “News travels fast here.”

  “Make use of him too, daughter. He was a city guard; can you believe it? Surprising how long he remained undiscovered.”

  For a moment, Nuraya lost control over her thoughts. Shoki was back. A part of her wondered how he’d managed to catch up to them once she’d sent him the other way.

  He was a magus!

  A shiver came over her. How was it fair that she, a princess of Istan, had failed at something that, apparently, he could do? She heard his second confession in her mind. She’d wanted to scoff when he’d declared his love for her, but for some reason, even now she couldn’t muster the strength to deny that little part of her heart that had soared at the silly words.

  Words a sultana had no time for.

  “Maharis,” she said, raising a hand toward the magi. “Ready?”

  In response, the old magus nodded. “Your will shall be done, my sultana.”

  She saw Jinan run over to them. “Jinan, ready your men for another attack.”

  “My sultana,” he said. “We just—”

  “Now!”

  Gesturing to the magi, she headed east, leaving Jinan fuming behind.

  Barely hours had passed since her ignominious retreat, but the sun was still harsh, warm air caressing her cheeks and stray locks of hair. Men of the Sultana’s Hands looked up as she tramped toward the lip of the hill, her gait determined, eyes looking straight ahead, her chin raised high.

  Mutters broke out behind her; men pointed at her. Many raised their hands to the heavens, their lips moving, appealing to Rabb or one of the many gods of the Atishi or Fanna. Like a fire, blazing in the forest, they all knew what she was going to do, and now looked scared.

  She smiled. A sultana was a mother, caring, attentive to her children, but she also had to be strict, responsible, and carry out harsh ministrations for their good. Sooner or later, they might understand this decision was really for their benefit.

  Her eyes fell to the cook pots set up right at the hill’s edge. Two ugly faces looked up, their eyes falling low the moment hers met them. Just behind them stood Shoki, swaying slightly, one eye covered by the black eye-patch.

  Exhaling, she ignored his warnings and walked up to the edge. Shoki, was an asset, someone to utilize for the benefit of Istan. No more, no less.

  The magi came to stand beside her, whispering to each other, one of them pointing back toward Shoki.

  She waited, her back straight.

  The view from the top was spectacular, offering a panoramic view of the city and the killing fields outside her walls. Somehow, Ahasan’s men had been able to plug the breach, keeping the expected deluge of Kinas’s men to a manageable trickle of dead soldiers.

  She reached out her hand and one of the mercenaries handed her the eyeglass. Corpses, bloody and bloated sprang into view. She shivered seeing the buzz of flies floating over them. Even when they’d left, the other soldiers had kept on fighting, their movements now slow, lethargic, puppets whose strings had gone slack.

  Hearing the clatter of approaching horse hooves, she set down the eyeglass and turned toward Jinan. “Are the men ready, Siphsalar?”

  “Aye, I’ve got two thousand armed to the fullest.”

 
; “Send the command for them to advance!”

  Jinan hesitated, cast an angry glance towards the magi. Mona was shaking her head, standing beside Queen Aleena who kept quiet. “My sultana,” he drawled, “if we are to attack—not an action I recommend—must we do so with only a portion of our forces? Perhaps, it would be best to—”

  “I intend to send a message,” she cut him off. “Fewer in numbers as we are, we still have strength both of my brothers together cannot overcome.”

  “As you will.” He whistled. One of the lieutenants ran over to him. Nuraya turned her head to watch the men. A sorry-looking bunch standing in a broken line, but seeing her, they roared. Most of them had been with her down below not too long ago. But even after the defeat, their spirit seemed undimmed, their bloodlust rekindled.

  Jinan turned to the men, shouted, “Ready the charge!”

  The infantrymen bellowed, stomped their feet, raised their halberds and swords and hammers and maces. A small, puny, thin line she might be sending down, but they would pack a much bigger punch than others expected.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Shoki approach. “Don’t use the magi. You’ve got to—”

  Anger flared up within her. A gust of wind slapped against them, set her robes fluttering. "You're here not to offer me counsel, but to do my bidding.”

  A giant of a man was clambering up to them now. Seven feet tall, his arms the size of a horse, his torso thick as a tree trunk, the very ground seeming to shake as he thumped over. A mercenary Salar Jinan had recruited recently. One not used to speaking by all accounts, his face shrouded in darkness underneath the massive helmet.

  Maharis bowed toward her, paused as if waiting to see if she’d change her mind.

  She didn’t.

  He straightened, then the three magi approached the giant who had halted a dozen paces from them.

  “No!” hissed Shoki.

  Maharis raised his hands, then gingerly rested them on the giant’s chest. Nuraya inhaled. Even as the old magus seemed to sag, the giant began to grow, right in front of her eyes. Tufts of hair shot out from the iron grill, the massive torso widening, widening until it tore out of the mail armor. Jinan took a step back. Mona prayed loudly to her Atishi gods.