by E. M. Hardy
“You must be tired from your journey, Prince Suhaib. We have prepared suitable accommodations that you and your people may avail of. It would please us greatly if you would spend a few nights to sample our hospitality and discuss future relations between our people and yours.”
“I would be honored to accept, your highness.” He wanted to go with a fancier reply, but he didn’t know enough Renese to properly convey himself. Between looking stupid because of a simple answer and looking stupid because he was trying too hard, and he chose to keep things simple.
***
“Well, Ma’an is fruitful in many ways,” Suhaib said as he sipped the strangely calming drink—camellia tea, if he remembered correctly. Very different from the bitter coffee tea he was used to. “The sands of the Bashri do not reach us as much as our neighbors. We also have strong water-army, navy, to protect us. They fight on sea, and on river that cuts across our emirate. Strong farms, strong fishing, strong castles make us strong even if we are smaller than our neighbors.”
The Empress nodded from behind her curtained seat as they shared a quiet afternoon overlooking the imperial gardens of the Red City. Suhaib had Munjid watching over him, while the Empress had the beefy yet unnamed guard watching over her. Both men studiously ignored one another, but Suhaib knew at the bottom of his gut that they had been sizing each other up ever since they laid eyes on one another.
“Intriguing. Your people rely heavily on farming and fishing then?”
“Oh yes, but we also offer more. We also have a lot of clothing, shiny metals… no, jewelry, and… uh… expensive stones.” Suhaib added quickly, struggling and failing to find the right words for garnets, malachite, and turquoise. Textiles, jewelry, and foodstuffs—these were the reasons why they were looking for trade partners, since the cartels were slowly but surely blocking exports and imports. Without additional avenues for trade, Ma’an would eventually run out of other essentials like medicines, iron, and even spices. With what he had seen in the markets of both Five Gorges and the Red City, along with what he heard about the scope of the empire, it was crucial that he established a good relationship with the Ren. It was a given, of course, that he extended the same courtesy to Martin, thanks to the roads that connected Ma’an to Ren.
And speaking of Martin… “I just have to ask, your hainez—I mean, your highness,” flubbed Suhaib, “how did Martin come to your lands? How did you meet him?”
“You would have to ask General of the White Tiger Shen Feng for the particulars. From the good general’s reports, Martin’s forces simply arrived out of the blue and began excavating a pyramid out in the swamp that you passed through last week. He claims that he was forcefully taken from his world, bound to these constructs of his, and has dedicated himself to defending us from enemies of legend. From what we have heard, though, it seemed that Martin could not surrender fast enough when the good general paid his forces a visit.” The Empress actually chuckled—a light, elegant tinkling that for some reason caused Suhaib’s ears to perk up and his stomach to tighten. Even the Empress’ guard seemed surprised, his eyes widening for just a fraction of a second before he schooled them back into perfect neutrality.
“That is very similar to how I met him. I and my people were looking for people across the mountain—looking for you,” he said, only realizing the awkwardness of his phrasing when the words left his mouth. “We were, ah, followed by our enemies. We had to hide, and we met with one of Martin’s flying eyes. He led us to safety, near one of the pyramids. He was friendly when he first met us; very, ah, light with his feelings. He changed when he went inside the pyramid. He seemed angry—very, very angry. I saw him transform from light-hearted to very angry, all in a few moments. Whatever he saw in the pyramid, whatever he saw this enemy do, it changed him.”
Suhaib could not see the expression on the Empress’ face, but the pregnant pause after he finished speaking told him that his words had indeed given her something to think about.
“It is as you say, Prince Suhaib. It would appear to us that this Martin seems cordial enough, genial even, but his attitude changes sharply whenever he speaks of these enemies of legend. We have brought this issue to the attention of other historians—people like your tutor, Yao Xiu, who make it their life’s work to study the past.” The Empress paused again, this time to take a sip of her tea. “It would appear that there is some historical credence to his claims.”
First Uhi, and now Empress Zi Li… what started out as a quick rejoinder to correct his awkward phrasing ended up turning into a serious matter. These revelations forced him to take Martin’s claims a lot more seriously now. Perhaps his fanciful visions of invaders falling out of the sky were not so fanciful after all.
“I guess it is a good thing that Martin has started building up his forces, then.”
“Building up his forces?” That statement seemed to take the Empress by surprise. “How so?”
“Yes, your highness. I asked Martin for help dealing with our enemies, promising our help to him when the time comes. He is holding up his end of the promise so far, building his road network to our emirate. He says that he will be able to check on my home in a few more days, when his floating eyes get within range. He even sent almost ten thousand of his soldiers, just in case my worries are, ah, correct.”
“Ten thousand?” The Empress’ whispered words were preceded by a sharp intake of breath. She then shifted in her seat, seeming to consider Suhaib’s words with great interest.
Suhaib wanted to ask if there was a problem, but he kept his tongue in check. This was the moment that Suhaib knew that the casual exchange had turned into anything but casual. She had fished information out of Suhaib, and he mentally smacked himself for carelessly revealing information than he probably should not have shared.
It would seem, however, that the Empress caught on to the meaning behind Suhaib’s silence. “We are surprised by our vassal’s zeal in this campaign to aid your people. Do tell, Prince Suhaib: if your enemies do decide to attack in force, what kind of opposition should your people expect?”
Her sudden switch threw Suhaib off-balance, though he was able to recover by whispering in his Bashri tongue and speaking to himself as if struggling with the numbers. “The De’em, the Sulba, Ramal, Far’eh… take their recent wars into consideration, the coming harvest season, support from cartel mercenaries, their rival emirates keeping them in check…” he switched over to Renese as he finalized the numbers. “If all enemies attack, they might send nine, ten thousand soldiers at most. This is worst that can happen to us, all our enemies coming together to lay upon us. It is not likely, but it is something we have been ready for a long time. They throw themselves against our walls in, erm, destroy-self attack, or the Bashri will eat them up, dry them out. Too long in the desert, too many mouths to feed, and sun will beat them down. With Martin’s help, and we will be able to protect ourselves long enough. No emir will risk danger—not when other emirs have, uh, knife ready to drop on their backs.”
The Empress nodded from behind her curtain, getting the gist of Suhaib’s message despite his difficulty wrestling with the language.
“Prince Suhaib, what would happen to your… what did you call it? Emirate?”
“Yes. Ruled by emir that is treated like Empress, is respected leader, but scope of power similar to local governor here in Ren.”
“Ah, yes. What would happen, Prince Suhaib, after your emirate survives a siege by your enemies?”
“Siege? Ah, after a long attack on our walls?”
“Yes, that’s about right.”
“Hmm. We have survived many siege like this before, though they were smaller. If the time comes, we will do as we did before: we recover, repair, replenish, and repopulate. Enemy has to do the same, but more because they lose more. And then enemy who attacks us find themselves being attacked by others. This why we did not fear siege before, for the weakened emir will become prey to other power-hungry emirs. With Martin’s help, we can bea
t back bigger siege even against more enemies.”
The Empress set her cup down, and an attendant refilled it with a new batch of steaming tea. She sipped once more, considering her drink, before she spoke again. “And after such a long siege where your defenders are tired and depleted, what would you do if Martin decides to turn his forces against you?”
Suhaib paused mid-sip, grinding back the frustration he felt. He had this discussion with his father, his mothers, Munjid, Faadi, and even Uhi. Now the Empress was joining in on the bandwagon.
At least this time he could feign innocence thanks to the language barrier. “What do you mean, your highness?”
“Martin’s forces do not need food and water, meaning the logistical problems of a desert campaign will not affect him. He has already laid down infrastructure like roads and these control obelisks of his toward your emirate. He can produce thousands of his constructs each day, meaning that the losses you inflict in a defensive war will not matter as he can just create more of himself.
“Do share with us, Prince Suhaib, what you would do if all Martin’s talk about mysterious invaders coming to destroy us all ends up being a lie. Enlighten us on the contingencies you have prepared just in case his affability, his apparent cluelessness, is all a ploy to lull you into a false sense of security while he builds up his forces in secret.”
That gave Suhaib pause. Despite not understanding some of the Renese words the Empress used, Martin fully grasped the intent and the overall intentions behind them. He was so obsessed with the threat of the cartels and their puppet emirs, so convinced by Martin’s eagerness and earnestness, that he had failed to consider all the points that the Empress made. He was so taken by surprise that he could not answer a single question levelled against him. It was a sentiment that Uhi shared, as their bond thrummed with sudden anxiety at the realization.
“We ask you this not just because we wish for idle banter, Prince Suhaib. We have a major pyramid within our borders—no, within striking distance of our seat of power. His walkers may not match up to the men and women who have pledged their minds and bodies to us, but the fact that he can so easily manufacture ten thousand of his walkers in mere days presents an unacceptable threat to our existence. If both your people and mine allow him to expand unchecked, he will eventually grow large enough to swallow any nation he desires.”
Suhaib could say nothing in return. When the Empress put it that way, he just realized how vulnerable his people would be. The only thing he could do was to turn around from his own cynical view of exploiting Martin’s stated goals for the benefit of his emirate. He could imagine Uhi berating him now, as she knew his true feelings about Martin’s backstory.
“I am afraid I will have to ask the… the same questions, your highness. What if Martin is telling truth? What if these legendary invaders come? You mentioned before his story is similar to stories your people, your historians. If he is saying truth, then all of us will need help fighting invaders.”
The Empress daintily sipped her teacup, almost as if she were unperturbed by Suhaib’s statements. “You did not answer our question, Prince Suhaib.”
The prince sighed. So much for trying to switch the discussion away from himself. “Being honest, Empress Zi Li, I cannot give good answer. It is as you say: Martin will have very big advantage against us. If he betray us, we will talk to him, ask him what he want, maybe give it. However, not getting his help will kill us as well. Our enemies surround us, choke us. They will grow bigger, while we grow smaller. In the end, after many painful years, our enemies will kill us. Cartels believe in the old ways, in… I do not know Ren word for slavery, but they will force us do things we do not want. Take our men, women, children away from home—force them to work with whip and sword. Even the jinn, our partners in spirit, will also be forced to work with whip and sword levelled against their partners.
“This why I choose to trust Martin in this.”
The Empress put down her teacup, and seemed to stare straight at Suhaib. He felt her eyes travel all throughout his face, and her inspection did not lose its intensity despite the veil between them. It took every ounce of his control to not turn away, and was thankful that his dark complexion disguised the blush creeping up from his neck.
“You do have a point about bigger enemies, Prince Suhaib. On this we agree. It may not seem like it on the surface, but we too have our own share of enemies to deal with.”
Suhaib kept quiet, remembering the advisors who had loomed behind the Empress. Yes, it looked like she did have her work cut out for her indeed.
They then shifted on to lighter topics, like the differences in seasons between the lands of Ren and the Bashri Basin. They got off to a light debate on the differences between hashish and tobacco before they talked about royal life. Suhaib complained about his role as youngest prince, being sent here, there and everywhere while his elder brothers and sisters got to pick the best positions in the governing of Ma’an. The Empress did not complain. No, she shared the difficulties of supreme rule at a young age, especially after the abrupt death of her parents. The entire empire of Ren had mourned their passing, even as it quashed a spontaneous uprising in the ever-restive eastern regions of the empire. Suhaib in turn regaled the Empress with tales of a few assassination attempts of his own, and it looked like she enjoyed hearing the details of his efforts to breach the mountains. Suhaib even got the chance to introduce Uhi to her Empress, and the jinni was gracious enough to not get him into any more trouble. The Empress, however, was delighted, especially when Uhi manifested her magical abilities to influence light as well as shadow. Even Suhaib joined in with a demonstration of sahar. The gardens had enough pebbles and loose soil for him to work with, and he juggled some of them in the air with nothing but his will. Uhi mentally slapped Suhaib, berating him for showing off like a pet. Suhaib studiously ignored her, especially when he noticed the delight in the young Empress’ voice while wishing he could see more of her.
They continued their chat well into the late afternoon, all while being surreptitiously observed by attendants who were on the payroll of three scheming old men.
The Three Sages with their well-groomed beards, luxurious silk robes, and extensive network of hidden contacts were starting to get threatened by the independence of their young puppet. She was reaching out to bring new allies to her side while ignoring their “well-intended” advice. They had tolerated her caprices in the past, but she was allowing her position to get to her head. After briefly consulting with each other, the three old men decided to push ahead with one of their longest-prepared plans. The uproar over the old family’s deaths had subsided, the scapegoats had been found and executed, attempted rebellions had been put down, power had been consolidated, and the vassals along with their peasants had been nicely subdued. Besides, nobody remembered what the little upstart looked like anymore, thanks to her tendency to hide away behind veils and curtains. Just put another pliable little girl on the Red Throne, cover her up, hold her entire family hostage, and there you go—problem solved.
Now was a good time to end what they had begun so many years ago—though one of the sages had a very different ending in mind.
Chapter 22
“What is meaning of this?”
Suhaib glared angrily at the guards who just a few days ago were escorting him to and from the Imperial Gardens. They were speaking too rapidly for him to fully understand what they were saying, using an accent that obscured what he knew of Renese. However, he got the gist of what they were saying: put down your weapons and come with us, or die.
Munjid and his armsmen had their jinn and weapons out, eying the Renese guards who had surrounded them on the market stalls of the Red City. Uhi stood at the ready, two shimmering orbs of light and dark playing in her palms. She hovered beside the prince, ready to fight should it come down to it but clearly worried about their bad odds. Faadi had his sword out, a nervous but determined expression plastered on his face. They didn’t h
ave their camel mounts with them, instead leading mules laden with supplies for the journey back home. It would not do them any good even if they did have their mounts, considering the tight market roads and hundreds of guards scattered all over the imperial capital. Besides, even Suhaib could see that these guards were wreathed in Chi, with some manifesting enough of the mysterious energy to create auras. He had seen what they were capable of, with their enhanced physique and ability to manipulate forces around them much like jinn could.
More guardsmen arrived, this time pulling along Yao Xiu, who was bound and pleading her innocence as desperately as she could.
One of the guards prodded Yao Xiu with the tip of his spear, and she turned toward Suhaib and his entourage while quaking with fear. The woman shouted rapidly at her, applying pressure to Yao Xiu’s back as she was coerced to translate for them.
“P-prince Suhaib… you… we have been accused of attempting to take Her Imperial Majesty’s life in a cowardly attack last night. Put do-down your weapons and surrender, so that you—we may face justice.” She switched between Bashri and Renese as she tried her best to translate what the shouting guard was forcing her to say, every word she uttered punctuated by a tremble in her voice.
“Prince Suhaib,” whispered Munjid in Bashri, “we will buy you time. If you can find one of Martin’s eyeballs, you might be able to coordinate with him to affect your escape back to Ma’an.”
Suhaib had known a time like this would come, where he would have to choose between his royal self and his people—his friends and companions—but he had never imagined it would be like this. He had expected to make this decision after an ambush or military defeat of some kind, not after the very warm welcome he had been receiving thus far from his once-gracious hosts.
Suhaib weighed his chances. He could follow Munjid’s advice, have his retinue of armsmasters and soldiers attempt to hold the Renese off while he retreated on his own. The new arrivals would make things harder, but not impossible, and their avenues of escape would only be cut off should they dawdle for any longer.