Upon a Burning Throne

by Ashok K. Banker

  Brum grinned, her large white teeth shining in the darkness.

  Vida

  Vida had seen the flames from miles away, lighting up the night sky over the jungle. Now, as the charioteer brought the chariot to a complete halt, he could still see the red glow in the sky above the trees. It extended to both sides for miles in both directions, as well as further ahead.

  The charioteer pointed upward. “It is a circle,” Adran said. “That is not a naturally occurring forest fire. Someone has deliberately set the fire in a large circle, and from what I can tell from here, it appears to enclose the area where the hermitage is situated.”

  Vida’s hand pressed against his chest. “Goddess! That means the hermitage is now isolated? How do I get there?”

  Adran shook his head. “Nobody can get to the hermitage now. Not until the fire subsides. Unless . . .”

  “Unless?”

  “Unless the goal is to burn them down,” Adran said. “Hence the circular fire. It is a tactic used by some cowardly tribes who do not have the courage to engage in honorable face-to-face combat.”

  Vida exclaimed, “But I must reach Shvate. I have an important message for him.”

  Adran gestured at the red glow. “We would have to leave the chariot here anyway, as the jungle is too dense from this point onward to travel further. If you wish, I can accompany you on foot as far as we can go. Perhaps we may find a firebreak. But we also run the risk of perishing in the fire. I have seen forest fires before. They are impossible to outrun, and once engulfed by smoke and heat, one can no longer make out east from west, north from south. We risk our own lives if we go forward.”

  Vida took a deep breath and released it. “So be it. I must reach my brother at all costs. It is a matter of life and death. Vrath and Goddess Jeel themselves have entrusted me with this communication.”

  Adran stared at him. “Then our path is set. I will hobble the horses in such a manner that if the fire does reach here, they will be able to break free with an effort and flee for their lives. There is no use having them perish with us. But if we survive the attempt, we may have to walk all the way back to Hastinaga.”

  “Do what you must. All that matters to me at this moment is reaching Shvate and giving him my message.”

  Adran took a few moments to do as he had indicated, then the two men set out on foot through the dark forest. Within a few miles, they began to smell the acrid fumes of smoke and could already feel the warmth of the fire. The closer they went, the warmer it grew, and the smoke and fumes increased as well.

  Adran placed a hand on Vida’s shoulder. “The smoke will soon surround us. I cannot guarantee that I will be able to find our way back.”

  “The way back does not concern me,” Vida said. “Only the way forward. If you fear for your own life, you may return, good charioteer. I do not ask you to risk your life as well. This burden is mine alone to bear.”

  Adran shook his head. “Nay, good Vida. You are an honorable master and a man of Krushan. I will go with you to the ends of Arthaloka. Give me a moment.”

  Adran tore two strips from his garment and doused them with water from a small lota of water he had taken from the waterskin kept in the chariot. He handed one wet cloth to Vida. “Wrap this firmly around your head and your face, cover every inch carefully. You will be able to breathe through the wet cloth, and it will keep some of the smoke and ash from entering your lungs.”

  Vida did as the charioteer advised and saw him do the same. Then Adran splashed a small amount of water from the lota over their heads and asked Vida to drink a little as well. He upended the lota over Vida’s mouth and dripped out the last drops. Then he put the lota aside and indicated that they should keep moving.

  As they continued forward, the smoke increased suddenly, filling the forest around them like a thick fog. The wet cloth around his face helped him breathe, but even so, Vida found it growing harder to take in air. Abruptly, a thick cloud of smoke billowed over them, engulfing them completely and plunging them into darkness more impenetrable than the natural night.

  The sound of the fire ahead was loud and intense, but there was also a strange hissing that Vida could not identify. The two men stopped moving, and Vida felt Adran’s strong arm on his shoulder, pressing down to indicate that he should stay still. Adran’s face appeared beside Vida’s ear, speaking to him over the noise of the fire. “We must stop awhile and climb a tree; there is too much smoke.”

  Vida wanted to protest, to argue that he needed to push on to reach Shvate at the earliest, but the charioteer added, “You will not get your message to Shvate if we both die here in the jungle. Do as I say, and we may yet survive.”

  Vida still felt reluctant to deviate from his mission, but he saw the sense in Adran’s words. He let the charioteer lead him to a suitable tree and bend down to form a bridge with his hands so Vida could more easily climb. And so he did—going as high as he could on Adran’s instruction, and as he climbed, he found the smoke reducing until by the time he was at the very highest point of the trunk, some fifty yards above the ground, he could almost breathe normally again. The charioteer climbed up after him, remaining below him to help and support or push when Vida found the going too difficult. Finally, both of them rested on the strong upper branches of the tree, looking out at the tops of the trees.

  Vida found that he could see the sky here and even a bit of the forest beyond the fire. The flames had cut down a patch of forest in a large ring, exactly as Adran had suspected, and the break in foliage provided glimpses of the clearing, which gave him hope, because he could see, even at this distance, that the huts of the hermitage appeared to still be standing and untouched by the fire.

  But now there was something else that he could see. He squinted, trying to make out if what he thought he was seeing was real or just a miasma caused by all the smoke swirling around them.

  “The fire has been put out,” Adran said, confirming Vida’s suspicion. The charioteer pointed with one hand, gripping the bole of the tree trunk with the other. “That is what produced all the smoke. Someone has put out the entire circle of flame at the same time, producing the clouds of smoke that we encountered. I thought that was the case, but could not be certain till we climbed to this vantage point.”

  Vida’s eyes were watering from trying to stare through the smoky air. “That is good news! Now we will be able to continue on our way and reach my brother very soon.”

  “If you wish, then we shall,” Adran said, “but I must caution you, Councilman, that such an enormous fire would have taken a great number of hands to put out with such precision. And it is to be expected that these parties would not be friendly to us or to your brother and his people. At first I thought the fire was to burn down Shvate and his family, but now I suspect another reason altogether.”

  “Such as the elimination of a patch of forest,” Vida said slowly, coming to the same conclusion.

  Adran nodded. “I cannot speculate on why this was seen to be necessary, but it has been done. And there can be no question that something else is meant to follow the dousing of the fire. Whatever that event may be, it will not be pleasant.”

  Vida was about to respond when suddenly, he felt a vibration through the trunk he was holding on to. It felt as if the earth were shaking. He looked around, puzzled, then thought to look down, at the ground. Even in the smoky darkness, he saw the shapes of many figures moving quickly through the woods. Dozens, hundreds, more and more, they kept on coming in endless waves, running at full speed through the jungle, all carrying arms, all moving with the silent, deadly grace of veteran warriors. His heart sank. “We are already too late, the attack has begun on the hermitage.”

  Adran was also watching the swarm of soldiers below. From this height it looked to them as if the ground itself were moving or was covered with water flowing in only one direction—toward the hermitage. “I fear it may be so.”

  “But my message,” Vida said in dismay. “I must reach Shvate and pass it
on to him!”

  Adran gestured at the ground, carpeted with never-ending waves of soldiers racing through the dark night. “Even a soul as brave as yourself cannot fight an army single-handedly, good Vida. I urge you to stay here until the danger is past, or we will become the first casualties of war.”

  Vida knew the charioteer was right. He had no choice but to stay where he could survive. The worst thing, he thought as he looked back toward the hermitage, was that he had a prime view of the battle that was about to commence yet could do nothing now to influence its outcome.

  Shvate

  Shvate woke to the smell of smoke. His first thought was that the hut was on fire. He sprang up, looking for any sign of flames.

  Mayla jerked awake beside him. “Shvate! Fire!”

  Karni came rushing back from the children’s room. “Shvate, Mayla, the Krushan are gone.”

  “Gone?” Shvate asked. “Where?”

  “I don’t know,” Karni asked. “Something very strange is going on.”

  All three of them picked up their weapons and rushed outside at once, alert and ready for danger. All three had bows as well as swords, while Mayla also carried a fist-sized clutch of metal darts and spears. The moon was just high enough for them to see by its light. The folk of the hermitage were also waking up now and peering out of their huts.

  A white-haired hermit saw them and called out, “Is it an attack?”

  “We don’t know yet,” Shvate called out. “Stay indoors. We are going to investigate.”

  “Have you seen the Krushan?” Karni asked the priests.

  Several shook their heads. Others were still staring around in bewilderment.

  The smoke appeared to be coming from the forest. They could see thick plumes of it rising from several miles farther away. Mayla swung around as she walked, turning a full circle. “It is on all sides. A fire lit in a circle around our hermitage. A war tactic.”

  “But it has been doused now,” Shvate said. “That means they did not intend to burn us out.”

  “Then they have something else in mind,” Karni said grimly, notching an arrow to her bow as she ran. Though Shvate and Mayla both had bows, neither of them had used them in a while, the weapons still causing both of them painful memories due to the association with the accidental killing of Rishi Kundaka and his wife. Shvate had his sword in his fist, and Mayla was pulling a spear from the clutch, holding it in her free hand, ready to throw at the first sight of an enemy.

  The three of them ran across the clearing to the forest, calling out the names of their five children as they went. But there was no reply.

  They entered the dark woods and slowed, letting their eyes adjust to the greater darkness. Shvate was the first to adjust, his albino vision better able to handle low light than high. He waited for his wives to be able to see as well.

  No sign of their children. Nothing that caused concern. They stood for a moment, getting their bearings, trying to listen and smell and sense what was happening.

  From deeper inside the forest, then, they heard sounds. At the same time, they felt the vibrations. Shvate pressed his palm against the trunk of a tree and listened. “Soldiers,” he said grimly. “Many hundreds, perhaps thousands—it is difficult to say because they are moving with great skill and stealth.”

  “An army, then,” Mayla said. “Who is it? Which of our enemies has come to seek vengeance?”

  “What difference does it make?” Karni said, “Whoever they are, if they come to harm us, we fight back. But first, we must find our Krushan. Where could they be?”

  Shvate tucked his sword under his arm for a moment and raised his hands to his mouth, shaping and funneling his lips to produce a low, piercing bird cry that carried a long distance in the night. He waited, then repeated the cry twice more. After the third time, an answering cry came to their ears, then repeated itself.

  “Kula-Saha,” he said, smiling briefly, “They are only a few miles away from the sound of it. Let us make our way toward them.” He took up the sword again and pointed. “This way.”

  They began running into the jungle, their weapons ready and senses alert. As they approached the place where the fire had burned and been extinguished, the air became smokier and more pungent. Their eyes began to sting from the smoke and ash, and they were forced to slow to a near-walking pace. Shvate’s eyes were watering, but he kept going, as did Mayla and Karni—his wives as stubborn and determined as he. Finally, eyes streaming freely, they came to a place where they saw the forest ahead thick with dark shadows and shapes. At once, they raised their weapons, ready to fight.

  It was Shvate who swore and took a step forward, rubbing at his eyes to stare. “Impossible,” he said. “Those are not soldiers . . . They are . . . not human.”

  Mayla and Karni stared as well.

  “You are right,” Mayla said. “I can see tusks, and antlers, and the ears of a wolf, and of foxes, and . . . a lion? Yes, several lions!”

  “And birds in the trees, and smaller creatures clinging to the branches and trunks . . . They are the animals and birds of the jungle,” Karni said. “Great numbers of them, all gathered together!”

  “The beasts of the jungle do not simply gather together!” Shvate said, “For what purpose would they gather? And predators and prey side by side? It is unheard of!”

  “They would join together peacefully to race away from a forest fire,” Mayla said. “I have seen animals fleeing a forest fire once. All different species together, just like this . . .” She paused. “But no—not like this. They were not simply standing together in one place.”

  “It is as if they are waiting,” Karni said.

  “But for what?” Shvate asked.

  Yudi

  Yudi raised his hand, gesturing to Kula, who nodded and passed on the message to Saha with a single silent look. Saha and Kula both looked at the lioness nearest to them. She was a magnificent old beast, her fur faded white with age, but her stance still proud, her eyes still fierce. She was enormous by lion standards, her head huge, her withers twice as high as Yudi, who was the tallest of the Krushan. Her haunches were still strong and powerful.

  “Pashupati be with you, great mother,” Saha said softly.

  The lioness growled softly in response.

  Then she raised her head high and howled.

  Around her the rest of her pride howled as well. Other lions took up the cry. There were several scores of them, all ages and sizes, with different colored coats, from several different prides.

  The wolves howled.

  The foxes barked.

  The elephants lowed.

  The buffalo grunted.

  The boars snorted.

  The bulls stamped their hooves.

  The great stags crashed their antlers against the trunks of trees.

  Soon, the entire kingdom of beasts had added their own voices to echo the war cry. Even the tiniest squirrels and hedgehogs made their own noises, acknowledging the clarion call of their commander.

  The five Krushan siblings exchanged looks and nodded.

  Brum grinned and slapped her fist into her palm. “Fight!” she shouted. “Brum fight! Animals fight! Soldiers fight!”

  Arrow sighed.

  The army of animals began to move, running forward into the jungle, toward the great ring of ash where the fires had raged, away from the hermitage and the people they were fighting to protect.

  They picked up speed gradually, their movements various and of a wide range of gaits. Galloping, leaping, trundling, skittering . . .

  Their momentum built until they were all one mass, an army charging as one being.

  The great mother lion roared again, letting the enemy know what terrors lay in store for them.

  The army of beasts again echoed her, filling the dark jungle with their horrific cry.

  Vida

  Vida and Adran watched in astonishment from the top of the tree.

  “The beasts of the jungle,” Adran said, his charioteer’s ey
esight keener than the sight of Vida, who spent too much of his time poring over scrolls in poor light. “They have risen up and joined the Krushan to fight their enemy. I have never seen anything like it . . .” He paused, as if recalling something. “Except once before, on the night of the eclipse. But that was nothing like this. This is the entire jungle of animals, all united for a common cause.”

  “Yes,” Vida said solemnly, “and the cause is Krushan.”

  They watched as the army of assassins, all with weapons drawn, charged forward, racing into the circle inscribed by the extinguished fire, while the army of beasts raced outward, rushing to meet the enemy.

  The two armies met with a clashing of bodies, human and inhuman.

  Fangs met swords.

  Claws met arrows.

  Tusks met bellies.

  Trunks grasped necks.

  Paws struck faces.

  Teeth slashed throats.

  Swords hacked fur.

  Blades pierced hides.

  Through the smoke of the extinguished fire, the battle was visible in glimpses. Bears swung vicious blows, separating human heads from torsos with a single slash of their long claws, ripping open bodies to spill out steaming organs. Great cats sprang upon soldiers, tearing flesh, rending bodies, crushing bones. Elephants ran down hundreds of men, stamping their bones and skulls into the mulch of the forest floor. Owls flew through the darkness, ripping open faces, crows plucked out eyes, eagles slashed scalps and raked faces. Even the small creatures slipped up sleeves and down yokes into the assassins’ garments, nipping sensitive parts of their anatomy, distracting the humans long enough for the larger animals to do their grisly work.

  But the enemy fought back viciously. Trained, veteran killers, they were not easily overcome. They used their weapons as easily against these animal attackers as they would have against fellow humans. They jabbed and cut, slashed and stabbed, wounded and maimed in every way possible. Even though they died by the dozen in the wake of the animal onslaught, they inflicted great damage on their furred attackers, giving no quarter, charging a heavy toll for their own casualties. They did not retreat, because they were not paid to retreat: they were paid to kill and die. And so that is what they did, even if the enemy they were faced with was not the one they had expected.