The Lost Empire of Dakush: Rise of the Tribes (Book Book 1)

by Stanimir Mirov

  The gates were wide open, and the sentry made way for the two riders who went into a gallop. An old man met them, and Bain commanded him, “Convene the council of the elders.”

  They passed through a long tunnel and entered a large stone room illuminated by torches and a fireplace, deep in the bowels of the mountain.

  The men sat near a white marble slab in the middle and waited for the council to gather.

  “Call Marhula!” Commanded Bain.

  The elders sat in their seats.

  “The Suri are defeated. Dakush knows about our involvement. Our plan failed. But there are other tribes. If we act quickly, we can resist the Dul.”

  At this time, the thick stone doors opened and in the hall entered a stooped old woman of unknown age. She was clothed in leather and bones, leaning on a staff of mammoth bone inlaid with human skeletons. She had extraordinary talent. On her forehead was a third eye. The elders consulted her on all important issues related to the tribe.

  “Marhula, do you know why I called you?”

  “I know, trouble hangs over Idarshi,” squealed the sorceress with a high lisp.

  “Seek the answer then!”

  The old woman threw a pinch of herbs in the fire, and black smoke came out. She inhaled and screamingly collapsed on the stretched mammoth skin. With a whimper and some incomprehensible words, she crawled to the marble table. The old woman reached her wrinkled, bony hand, grabbed the edge and stood up. She closed two eyes, and with the third looked at the outlined contours of the table representing a map of the known for the tribe world. Facing Idarshi, she pulled a tail of a rattlesnake with her right-hand and began flicking it with screams and guttural sounds, while she was making her familiar natural noise.

  Four healthy slaves pulled in a chained saber-toothed tiger and put his head on the stone table at the opposite end of Marhula. She, like possessed, with a thick extraneous voice, spoke, “Cut!”

  Bain approached the altar and raised a large sharpened sword. Then he walked to the beast and with one steady motion cut off its head. She rolled down the long ten-foot table and fell on the floor. At this point, with whistling, from the neck of the saber-toothed gushed a strong jet of blood that moved in all directions before suddenly stopping. Slaves brought out the animal's carcass, and the witch opened her other two eyes. For a long time, she was staring at the map, reading the bloody trail.

  “Flammable settlements to the north and west. Wild animals gnawed bones of corpses. While Terter is alive, Idarshi is in danger. The tribes will be united.”

  The old woman left the room.

  Messal, title given to the leader of the elders spoke first, “What do you suggest, Bain?”

  “Half of our warriors fell in the battle against Dakush, and the rest were taken into slavery. This will increase the extraction of iron, precious metals and gems in the mines. With that, they can hire a large army, and we now have only 500 soldiers.”

  Another of the elders spoke, “Our strength is not in our numbers but in the horses. No other tribe around has them. Surely we can bribe the Katuns, Bagars, and Onugundurs. They have long wanted to breed horses from us. They offered us gold, gems, and leather just to get their hands on them. We will ask for 300 warriors from each tribe in return.”

  “It's not enough,” intervened Mur. “Dul have at least 15 thousand well-armed and trained men. Also, do not forget about their tigers. Even the mammoths could not stop them. I saw it with my own eyes.”

  The leader of the elders took the floor again, “I've heard from my father, the Great Messal Abu Karan Dalhu, that far to the east of us are living a wild and numerous people called Indi. We can gather twice as large an army of Dakush with them.”

  A white-bearded old man stroked his beard and said, “How will you force them to give you such an army? And who will make this dangerous trip? These areas to the East are not known to our tribe!”

  “We will offer them half the booty of Dakush,” said Messal. “And you know that that's huge. We will gather everything our tribe owns and give it as a gift to attract their attention. These 900 warriors we will get from our neighbors will be sent to negotiate, and our soldiers will guard Idarshi. Who will lead them?”

  Bain stood up and drew his sword, placing it on the table,

  “Tomorrow I will bring horses to the tribes and lead the warriors East. The road will be long. We'll have to provide food for the troops. I want ten ox carts loaded with wheat, honey, salt, wine and other products. A herd of 300 sheep, 100 horses and twenty of our best hunters to supply us with fresh meat. Mur will replace me here. What gift can we offer to the Indi?”

  “We have a small chest with rubies. I think it's enough.”

  “Let it be,” raised his hand Messal Abu Targan Chingu.

  “Let it be,” responded in one voice the rest of the stone table.

  After a few days, the army of Bain stood in battle array before the wooden walls of Idarshi. On the left side of the main gate, before which the warriors were deployed, there was the sacred rock of the Sarani. Marhula slowly climbed on the carved steps. A hyena was left tied on top of the altar. The sorceress strongly said some spells out loud and stuck her knife in the heart of the animal. She reached with her left hand and used her right to gently carve it. The old woman lifted it high in the air and shouted, “Bain!”

  The entire army and the crowd of people in the city repeated the name out loud three times in fierce cries,

  “Bain! Bain! Bain!”

  Echoes spread mighty in the mountain. Chief set off followed by the troops, carts, and herds.

  Chapter IV

  Urta

  Mo Draco's army entered through the parade gates of Dakush. Crowds rapturously welcomed him on the broad, paved streets. Grinning women threw flowers at the feet of his horse. Clowns danced and breathed fire jets. All celebrated the victory in the capital of nine cities, also called the "Golden City".

  The huge city was built on four hills. Numerous springs were spilling around and rivers were flowing past lush gardens. Beautiful waterfalls were creating the comfort of paradises. A pleasant aroma floated by the greenery and flowers around. Thousands of houses outside fortress walls were placed randomly along the alleys, surrounding the outer part of the city. In a large lake, different types of birds were swimming. The inner city was divided into three parts, each of which was surrounded by a wall with towers. In the middle of the city, on a separate hill, towered over all the palace of Dul-Erhu Terter. Gardens with walkways and fountains stretched in length. Exotic animals and birds walked in the park. There was a large stone arena where the annual games that served as training grounds for the guards at other times were organized. Two giant statues carved into the cliff towered aside of a hewn tunnel leading to the palace. The middle part had numerous villas of noble families. A massive gilded rotunda of the Sun God stood prominently. People entered it through a large courtyard surrounded by a wall. The inner part of the temple was divided into six walls encrusted with massive columns in front of each. In the middle of the room stood a large golden altar decorated with precious stones and the image of god Za Run Ta. Numerous inns, workshops, markets, and brothels were scattered on the lower levels of the city.

  Tur Draco went through the stone tunnel alone. Two slaves took the reins of his horse and he went down. Mo took off his helmet and heavy military weaponry and entered the pool built over a mineral spring. Several slaves bathed him and changed him into soft embroidered clothes and a red mantle. The doors of the parade hall opened. In the bottom, on the marble throne covered with skins of saber-toothed tigers was the mighty Dul-Erhu Terter. The winner of the battle on the hill "Karshi Bair" bowed deeply and, after the given sign, walked past the large square plates.

  “Mo Draco, scouts brought me the pleasant news. I did not expect anything less.”

  “Gabo Dara is yours, Great Dul-Erhu! Suri will now serve you faithfully. They are sending you nine ox carts with leather and gifts. I have also brought you a thousand
captured slaves.”

  “Something else?” The loud voice of the ruler was heard.

  “Bain, chief of the Sarani has betrayed us. From the wife of the former ruler of the Suri I killed, I know that the saranian are trying to unite some tribes and that if they manage to do that, they will be able to gather an army at least three times bigger than ours.”

  “I'd better think about it! What reward do you want?”

  “Gabo Dara and your blessing to marry Loara. Then I can closely monitor what is happening and protect the eastern border.”

  “So be it. You have my blessing,” then Terter pulled off a massive ring from his left hand. “Take it, this will be your seal of the city. You're now Boril of Gabo Dara and Tur of Dakush.”

  Mo Draco bowed and kissed the right hand of the ruler as a sign of gratitude and devotion.

  “There will be a celebration in your honor. Let's stop the military affairs for now. There is always time for them. Follow me.”

  The two powerful men entered a huge hall. Seated near the large tables, the noble families of Dakush stood and loudly greeted their ruler. Terter took the central place and Mo Draco sat by his honorary left side after kissing the hand of the lovely Dul Deodora. Dul-Erhu raised his glass,

  “Noble people and citizens of Dakush, the Sarani have been defeated. Here's to the new Boril of Gabo Dara, Tur Mo Draco!”

  Musicians started playing, slaves began to dance, and the feast officially started.

  A fat man eating grapes was staring angrily at Mo Draco with an oily, sly expression. He was the known moneylender, Maron, a distant cousin of the wife of Dul-Erhu Terter, Deodora. Near the oily one sat one of Draco's enemies, whose ambitions were to become the Tur. Urta was a young, strong and stotnic nephew of the usurer.

  Maron raised his glass with his pudgy hand, drank with delight and leaned towards his sister-son with his sly smile,

  “Urta, I have a big market for slaves at the Makuti. If you were Tur now, we could divert two chains of them...”

  “Yes, yes, I know... Draco will now be further away from us. He will have more enemies. If we're lucky, someone might kill him instead of us. You keep in touch with Deodora so you can put me in its place when the moment comes and I will try to imbed in the eyes of Terter. In the army, I have already earned my reputation.”

  “If my sister were alive, she would be proud of you. Let's talk a little more about work. I have a debtor who is already late with the payment. He has to give 50 silver du.”

  “Who? Where can I find him?”

  “He lives by the lake. You will seek Lahaf. He has herds of sheep. The interest on my money is 20 sacks of quality wool. Whatever you take on top is for you.”

  “I'll visit him tomorrow. Let's drink now.”

  Dul Deodora retired to her chambers. Terter turned towards the new Boril,

  “Draco, you are now far away from the intrigues in the capital. I envy you,” for the first time tonight, the drunken ruler smiled.

  “I think that intrigues are yet to start for me. For them, there are no limits. They reach to the farthest corners of Dakush. Many of the present here would kill us as soon as possible, but let's leave these things aside. After all, we are celebrating tonight.”

  Terter patted him on the shoulder happily,

  “You are loyal Draco. I am glad that I trusted you a long time ago. You are like a son to me.”

  “There is still time. Someday you will have a son. How is your little daughter?”

  “Already walking. She is stubborn, just like her mother.”

  Both continued to drink, laughing.

  On another table, Karpa-du (treasurer) of Dakush, Valtsek scolded his daughter Ksavia,

  “How can you be such a stupid hen? He was in your hands, and you lost him! Now Mo Draco will marry Loara, and my plans will fail. I have endured a lot to get here. Couldn't you seduce him?”

  “Please father. You are drunk. Someone will hear you. And stop insulting me.”

  Karp-du flushed and nervously ordered her,

  “What are you bleating like a goat? Immediately go home, we'll talk tomorrow!”

  The girl obediently left the hall, followed by her female slave.

  On the road, the crying girl spoke,

  “What am I guilty of when he does not like me? I have so many admirers, like stotnic Urta, running after me. What should I do, what do you think Susima?” She turned to the slave.

  “Recently I had a connection with Guzhal, the slave of moneylender Maron. He said some secrets in front of me. His master wants to make his nephew, Urta, the Tur of Dakush. So you be happy that he is courting you. He may replace Mo Draco in the future, and your father will be pleased even more.”

  “Bravo Susima, you should renew your relationship with this Guzhal. I want more information about Urta,” satisfied Ksavia smiled and handed one silver du to her slave. “I have to inform my father.”

  The next day at noon they gathered around the table, which had been ordered in advance,

  “Sit daughter,” urged her Valtsek. “My head hurts, I think I drank a little too much last night.”

  Ksavia mischievously smiled and sat down to lunch with her father. After eating, they went out for a walk around the garden,

  “Father I will share something with you. Recently, Urta has been courting me, and I like him. He is young and ambitious, and from a reliable source, I know he wants to become Tur. You are well aware who his uncle is. For this, there is a chance he will replace Draco one day.”

  Karpa-du scratched his beard,

  “Huh. Yeees, it's an option,” he drawled and thought, "If I related to them, our family would become one of the strongest," and then continued out loud. “I'll talk to Maron, and if we reach an agreement, there will be a wedding!”

  Pleased, the girl kissed her father on the cheek and ran around the gardens.

  In the afternoon, three riders left the city and headed for the lake. They stopped at an inn, and Urta summoned the visibly drunk man in front,

  “Do you know where Lahaf's house is?”

  The drunkard belched, and unsteadily pointed his right hand to the second house on the left down the street, holding his left hand open to the questioner. Seeing that, the stotnic cheered and threw copper du into his hand,

  “Go and drink one for my health!”

  The three men dismounted and tied their horses to the wooden fence. With a kick, they broke the door and entered the house,

  “Where is Lahaf?” Asked one of the guards.

  The slave girl only snorted, and with trembling hand pointed the closed storage aside. Attracted by the noise, the trader went out into the yard and saw the men,

  “What's happening? I already paid the annual tax of 20 sheep!”

  Wiggling his hands, the guards drove him back to the warehouse filled with sacks of wool,

  “Listen to me, dog, before I cut your ears! You owe 50 silver du and 20 sacks of premium wool to Maron. Because you were so much behind with the payment, you will bring your leather purse and load an oxcart with 40 sacks. Do you understand, dirty dog?” Shouted in his face Urta.

  Lahaf began nodding fearfully,

  “I understand, I understand. I just wasn't here the last days because I had problems with the herds in the valley. Just let me go, and everything will be loaded immediately.”

  Once they let him out, he came out in the yard and ordered the servants to harness the oxen and load 40 sacks of wool. When the cart was ready to move, he reached into his leather coat and pulled out a bag with exactly 50 silver du. Once passed, he pulled out another 5 du from the other pocket, and with a smile added,

  “This is for you. I don't want a bad name. I think we will continue to work with Maron.”

  Urta happily took the coins and ordered the servant to drive to the inner city. Slaves of the usurer opened the gates and the oxcart loaded with wool came into the yard. The fat man rubbed his greasy hands pleased,

  “Urta, my boy, is it only wo
ol?”

  “No, here's the purse,” stotnic handed it to him.

  The slick measured them with his hand and put them in the inner pocket of his leather vest,

  “Come in, let's have a drink.”

  “I'll go. At that time, Ksavia goes to market.”

  “She is a good match. Her father is a shrewd and wealthy man. I'll come with you to look at the assets. Come leave your horses here, let's walk a little. Look how nice the weather is.”

  The two men left the manor followed by four slaves.

  On the wide street paved with stone slabs, wooden stalls laden with dates, olives, various fruits, and vegetables were situated on both sides. This was the beginning of the market. Over the stalls, tents were erected, keeping shade and keeping the goods safe from rain. The other part was full of all kinds of fish and meat. In the third part of the market, things from all corners of Dakush could be found - clothes, weapons, leather, fabrics, spices, jewelry, pottery and more.

  Maron stopped at a stall with clothing, fabrics, carpets and began to bargain with the trader offering him 40 sacks of premium wool. While Urta was looking at a gorgeously embroidered leather vest, he noticed the beautiful Ksavia on the opposite side. Susima spotted him and whispered to her mistress,

  “Urta comes to you.”

  “Hello Ksavia, last night you left the banquet very quickly. I feel that you are avoiding me.”

  Smiling, the girl offered her hand, and he kissed her,

  “It is not because of you. I just had too much wine.”

  At this point, he noticed the golden brooch that she held in her hand,

  “Will you accept it as a gift, a token of friendship? I see that you like it.”

  She cheerfully nodded in consent,

  “How much?” He asked the seller.

  “Two golden du.”

  Stotnic opened his purse and counted the amount. Then he took the brooch from the girl's hand and hung it on her dress,