Kelven's Riddle Book Five

by Daniel Hylton

  Jothan stared, his features awash in astonishment. “Yes, sir.”

  Aram let his gaze rove slowly among the gathered soldiers and was satisfied by what he saw in their eyes.

  Speaking to Thaniel, he turned the horse and they drove southward away from the gates and into the ancient land of Elam, followed by Marcus and Thom.

  7.

  Rahm Imrid sat very still and erect upon the high throne and watched as the members of the Council of the Great Houses entered the hall and found their ways to their seats upon the left-hand side, beneath the high windows. Try as he might, he could not read the general mood. Most of the elders of the land of Elam were stoic and stone-faced, even those he counted among his closest allies.

  Despite his best efforts at containment, news of the military disaster in the north, wrought upon the fields of Basura, had been widely disseminated.

  When the few thousand that had escaped from the action before Tobol fled to the south and encountered their reinforcements coming north along the main road, the survivors told their tales of beast-borne marauders, and panic had taken them all, including the reinforcing body. The entire lot had scurried back into the south. The officers, as terror-stricken as the men, had utterly failed to contain either their troops or the tale of defeat they bore with them.

  Consequently, the ruin of Rahm’s attempt to subdue Basura was well-known throughout Elam.

  Acting quickly, Rahm had succeeded in separating the bulk of the defeated soldiers from society and ensconcing them in the various military installations near to Farenaire. And he had personally questioned those officers that had escaped from Basura.

  That which he discovered brought to his recollection Marcus’ tales of the barbarians Edverch met upon the plains of The Land Beyond the Gates in the spring. Apparently, men on armored beasts – the so-called horses of ancient legend – had attacked Slan upon his undefended northern flank and swept the army from the field.

  Rahm always suspected that Marcus, when he disappeared from the landscape of Elam proper, had gone into Basura. Evidently, he had also gone even farther eastward and made contact with the barbarians, somehow gaining a sort of alliance with that rough and vicious lot of uncivilized denizens of the desolate lands of the east. The High Prince clearly remembered the tone of respect that had subconsciously entered Marcus’ voice when he spoke of the leader of those wild folk.

  Basura, then, undoubtedly with Marcus’ help, had apparently enlisted those eastern people to aid in their revolt against the throne. Riding their villainous beasts, they had smashed into Slan’s northern flank unexpectedly at dawn.

  And Slan had not seen it coming.

  Once he’d gained a full understanding of that which had occurred in the north, Rahm had two thoughts.

  First – and this rather surprised him – he desperately wanted to discover a means of wresting some of those here-to-fore unknown beasts from the barbarians and put them to work bearing his own troops into battle.

  Secondly, Edverch had been entirely wrong about Slan. The newly-appointed general – now apparently either dead or captured – though possessed of quite proper political attitudes, had nonetheless been incapable of leading men to victory. Slan had obviously been an utter fool, pressing carelessly eastward in search of glory and reward rather than minding proper military method.

  Upon reflection, Rahm decided that he’d have been better served to send Edverch into Basura. The old general lacked the raw confidence displayed by Slan, but that would have only made him more cautious and might have saved the army. As a consequence, whether Edverch’s caution had resulted in victory or stalemate, it would not have led to a complete rout of the forces of the throne. The High Prince would perhaps have been spared from dealing with the ensuing political embarrassment and possible dissension from his less loyal allies on the Council.

  As soon as he understood the military aspects of the disaster in Basura, Rahm took immediate steps to rectify the situation. Even now twenty-five thousand troops were headed northward along the main road, bound for the rebellious countryside of the traitorous province. The rest of the nation’s troops, at least those whose loyalty to the High Prince was reasonably certain, were summoned to the fortifications around the palace, in case Cinnabar or Berezan, or any of the other Houses whose fealty to the throne was suspect, decided to act rashly.

  The troops going north had been placed under the command of Trebor Arrabi, a full general from House Antona. General Arrabi appeared capable enough, possessed a solid reputation for loyalty, and seemed to welcome the opportunity to restore the confidence and the honor of Elam’s forces.

  House Antona was not closely allied to the throne, but neither had its leading family shown any inclination to buck the prevailing political winds. Antona was on the extreme east of Elam, just north of Soroba’s home province. It was a land of quiet farmlands, small in both population and geographic size, politically unimportant.

  It was commendable then that a son of such a land had risen to the rank of full general. The impression Rahm had of Trebor Arrabi was that of stolid devotion to duty and an unwillingness to question orders.

  When made to understand the nature of that which had occurred before Tobol, and pressed to state his own intentions, based upon that knowledge, Arrabi was clear and decisive.

  He intended to march into Basura with his troops in the form of a square, he told the High Prince, with the bulk of his troops positioned on the leading edge and along both sides. The rear side of the square would be reserves, ready to move ahead or to the left or right as the situation demanded.

  When informed that the enemy that had driven Slan’s men from the field was mounted upon armored beasts, Arrabi blinked, looked down at his boots and thought for a moment. When next he looked up, it was to render this assessment – “These mounted warriors must have been a frightening sight, Your Highness, I am sure. But if invincible; why employ a flanking maneuver? Why not simply attack head-on, with the Basuran contingent on line with them?”

  When Rahm did not immediately respond, Arrabi continued, “I intend to construct defensive fixtures which can be moved forward as the men advance. These beasts are quite tall according to that which I’ve been told. Still, they must approach across the ground as any other cadre of troops. A barrier of perhaps four or five feet in height, made of sharpened poles, will undoubtedly render their charge somewhat less impressive.”

  Upon hearing the description of this scheme, the devising of which demonstrated that Arrabi had given thought to that which had occurred in the north, and finding the reasoning sound, Rahm had inwardly approved of his choice of a general and then asked, “What will you do at Tobol?”

  Arrabi inclined his head slightly. “I will, of course, do what you command, Your Highness. If you wish, I will assault the city, or we can besiege them and starve them out.”

  The High Prince had watched him in silence for a moment. “Alright,” he said finally. “Go to Basura. When you arrive before the walls of Tobol, you may inform me of the situation to your front and to either flank, and I will send instruction.”

  Arrabi bowed. “I am at your service, Your Highness.”

  Satisfied, Rahm stood. “Go – bring Basura back into the fold.”

  That had been one week ago. By now Arrabi and his troops would be well north, probably nearing the gates of Calom Malpas.

  Feeling at least somewhat comfortable with the military situation, Rahm now had to deal with the political. So far, none of the Great Houses, even those led by families opposed to Rahm’s policies, had made any overt movement toward rebellion.

  Some of them no doubt considered him weakened by recent events and were simply biding their time, while watching for an opportunity to subvert his will.

  Rahm, on the other hand, knew himself now to be properly enlightened as to the dangers of military action – and aware of the fact that there were more enemies abroad in the world than first he’d thought.

  He was, therefore
, wiser.

  Besides, the more he pondered, the more convinced he became that Slan had been a fool. The man had been so focused on the glory attendant upon bringing down a Basuran city that he had neglected basic military precepts.

  By every account, the unexpected assault upon Slan’s forces by mounted barbarians, though unquestionably terrifying and fierce, had been accomplished with a force that numbered in the mere hundreds. Had Slan’s flank been defended, and the troops protected by proper defensive works as General Arrabi described, the attack would have ended at least somewhat differently, perhaps even with the barbarians routed and defeated.

  The High Prince understood one basic concept of human nature very well – and that was that, in politics, an overt display of confidence trumped the uncertainty brought on by reverses every time. He fully intended to display confidence today, in front of the council. Nor would it be mere bravado – if anything, Rahm learned lessons quickly, and learned them well.

  His political enemies, whatever their secret thoughts, would nonetheless be made hesitant to act upon those thoughts. Besides, despite the recent disaster in the north, those that opposed him were yet scattered, their lands and Houses divided by distance. It was those Houses that sat the political fence that he must convince of the need for continuity – one reason he had reached out to Antona when looking for a general to lead his army back into the north.

  Rahm knew instinctively that he must be decisive – and act decisively. He also knew that he must maintain an appearance of normality within Farenaire and the palace, and thereby keep the reversal he’d suffered in Basura as far out of sight, and out of mind, as possible. For this reason, the palace guard stood solemnly to his right, in a solid formation upon the southern wall beneath the high windows, with their pikes held erect, resplendent in their blue and gold uniforms, and shining helms.

  Once the councilors were settled in their places, he turned in his throne to face them and spoke candidly.

  “The force sent northward under the command of General Slan has suffered defeat,” he admitted and then went on to state what he intended should be the official view. “House Basura has blatantly attacked the forces of Mother Elam and with the aid of barbaric troops from the east, killed and captured many men – our own sons and brothers.”

  He let this statement settle in their ears for a moment.

  Then, rising, he descended the steps that fronted the throne and walked out before the gallery of councilors. Turning to face them, he spread his arms wide. His face took on an expression of supreme sorrow.

  “Those men were sent north to persuade the people of Basura to abandon the nefarious acts of the treasonous family that rules that House and return to the common fold. I do not know by what means the traitorous rulers of Basura convinced their people to continue in lawlessness – or how they bought the aid of rough, wild, uncouth folk from the wastelands. But this I will say.” He held up his hand, as if to swear an oath.

  “There must now be war. It cannot be avoided.” He waited to see the effect of this statement on those seated in front of him.

  Leeton Cinnabar refused to meet his gaze, along with a scattering of others. Most of the councilors gazed back at him stoically. Here and there, however – mostly from those who had profited by association with him, or those who feared him – there were nods of subservient agreement.

  Kavnaugh Berezan met his gaze straight on but Rahm could not read the councilor’s face. Councilor Berezan ruled the province from which had come Olyeg Kraine, recently named as a traitor to the throne by the High Prince himself. Kavnaugh’s features, framed by short black hair and a thick beard of the same color, were as bland and still as calm water as he stared back at the man who ruled all of Elam.

  If there was little trace of loyalty exhibited there, upon the face of Berezan; neither could Rahm detect the hint of treasonous intent. He moved his attention on to the others, meeting every set of eyes that deigned to look back at him.

  Then he clasped his hands behind his back and continued.

  “General Zelrod Slan,” he stated, “whether he be now a prisoner or perhaps even dead somewhere upon the traitorous countryside of Basura –” Here he inclined his head toward Councilor Slan, the disgraced general’s father and leader of House Valrie – “and who will be missed, did not take proper precautions upon the emplacement of his front lines. The Basuran traitors and their wicked allies recognized this fact and took advantage.”

  He nodded his head in subdued acknowledgement of the truth. “Elam’s men-at-arms have suffered a setback.” He stared at the floor in apparent sorrow for a long moment and then lifted his chin. “But our purpose remains unchanged. The world beyond the gates of Elam grows ever more dangerous – as the actions of these wild eastern folk demonstrate. Elam must face the challenges of a more dangerous world united in purpose and intent.”

  He started to form his hand into a fist, and then thought better of it. Folding his hands once more behind his back, he let his features grow solemn. “Eventually, we will have to confront these barbarians and learn their intent. If they mean to expand their control into Elam, they will be stopped and then destroyed.” He loosed his hands and held up a cautionary finger. “First, however, we must deal with Basura. I have never wished to engage in conflict with our own citizens, but the people of that province must be persuaded of the foolishness of those that lead them astray.”

  Letting his gaze rove among the gallery of councilors once again, Rahm then turned and went back up the steps to his throne. He sat and looked with solemn expression over at the leaders of the Great Houses of Elam. “I have already taken measures to show House Basura the error into which it has fallen.”

  He leaned toward the gallery. “You will wish to discuss these matters amongst yourselves,” he admitted boldly. “I ask you to take the rest of this day and the morrow for such discussions – we will meet here again on the second day from today.”

  With that, and without inviting discourse, he stood, turned his back on them, and left the chamber.

  8.

  Aram gave Thaniel his head as they went southward and the great horse established a blistering pace but one that all three horses could maintain.

  The road was wide and well-paved with small pea-sized gravel that over time had been pounded hard and rendered level by the traffic that trod atop it. They passed through several small towns and villages, none of which were gated or guarded, without stopping or slowing to interact with the astonished citizenry that gaped as they drove through and went on into the south.

  As they plunged ever southward, deeper into the wide green land, the mountains to the west drew further away even while the foothills that lay beneath those higher peaks dropped down and came gradually eastward until they crowded the river, which now flowed generally nearer the road.

  The sun had fallen halfway down the sky to their right, toward the western horizon, when they came to a section that was familiar to Aram. He glanced leftward, toward the east, as they crossed the bridge spanning the River Shosk, into the devastated land of Basura where ruined farms and burned buildings dotted the once-lush landscape. He knew that over there to the east there were people that would be greatly relieved to learn what it was that he meant to do. Still, though, he did not stop, nor turn aside to speak to them, but let Thaniel keep driving toward the south.

  They passed more small villages and way stations along the thoroughfare, and occasional travelers who turned their oxcarts off the road and into the surrounding fields when the strangers on horseback thundered down the road upon them. Aram ignored them and everything else and kept Thaniel moving. If the prince that ruled this great land possessed any means of rapid communication that might warn him of impending danger, he meant to override it.

  He intended to arrive at the palace in Farenaire unexpected.

  As the late evening sun slid down to sit upon the western mountains, the myriad structures of a substantial city began to rise up on the southern hori
zon. Aram glanced back at Marcus who correctly interpreted the inquisitive look of his lord. The young prince indicated the approaching town with his chin.

  “Calom Malpas,” he said.

  Aram examined the road ahead and behind. Traffic had been light all day and at the moment there was no one in sight in either direction. Looking around, he sought a place of refuge for the night. Tended fields pushed up against the road from the east, and farms and outbuildings clustered darkly on the horizon. West of the road, however, the ground sloped away toward the river which along this stretch of highway was verged by untended meadowland. He glanced over at the sun. More than half of that great orb had already slid behind the mountains.

  “Turn here, Thaniel,” Aram said. “Let us go into the trees along the river. There is grass there for you and your people.”

  The horse slowed and turned off the road and pounded down through the tall grass and into the line of trees that lined the banks of the river. The great river of Elam flowed gently here; looping slowly in wide arcs; though there were also occasional stretches of rapids followed by long deep pools as the great stream fell ever so gradually toward the distant sea.

  One of these pools lay immediately to their front as the river angled toward them and then bent gently away once more. Along the near shore of this slow-moving stretch of water there was a strip of sand perhaps twenty feet wide. Aram looked around at the sand bar, and then glanced back up toward the road, barely visible now in the dusk beyond the thick trees. He nodded.

  “Let’s get down and loosen our muscles,” he told Marcus and Thom and he pointed at the bar of sand. “We can get a few hours rest away from the saddle upon that sand.”

  He removed his helmet and laid it aside upon a rock. Then he stretched his back and looked at Thaniel. “It will be necessary for the sun to be up and in the sky before we pass through Calom Malpas,” he told the horse. “You might as well have some relief from the weight of that steel.” He motioned to Marcus and Thom. “Let us give ourselves and the horses a night out of armor. We’ll stash it in the trees. They can spend the night on the grass between us and the road.”