Prophecy's Daughter

by Richard Phillips

  As the warriors drew closer, Arn had to admit that they reminded him of Ty, although these men wore considerably more armor than his Kanjari friend did. Rough chain-mail shirts covered upper torsos. Legs sported tough leather breeches tucked into knee-high boots. Leather gauntlets studded with small metal spikes adorned forearms. Battle-axes hung from saddles. All had bows and quivers slung across their backs.

  Rafel held up a hand, bringing his contingent to a halt. The rangers rejoined the main group so that all formed a double column. As one, Rafel and Ty trotted forward to meet the coming riders of the khan. The horsemen pulled their mounts to a sliding halt in a tight semicircle around Rafel and Ty, raising a cloud of dust that briefly obscured all. Alan’s hand drifted to his ax, but Arn laid a restraining hand on his arm, and the young lord relaxed.

  Almost before the dust had settled, Rafel and Ty concluded a brief conversation with the leader of the riders, swung their mounts around, and returned to the group. The riders of the khan swept into a loose formation surrounding Rafel’s party. With a yell from the leader of their new escort, both groups of riders headed up the hills to the north.

  Cresting a ridge, they entered a broad and fertile valley that narrowed and steepened perceptibly as it turned to the northeast. After several leagues, the valley narrowed. Arn watched as several hundred warriors spilled from the surrounding hills to fall in behind them.

  In front of Arn, a twenty-pace-wide chasm crossed the valley from east wall to west. The valley floor had apparently collapsed at some point in ages past. From high up on the chasm’s eastern wall, a plume of water thundered down, becoming an underground river. Along the far side of this chasm, a fortress wall formed a barrier to the stretch of land that led to the city visible in the distance.

  Two ten-pace-wide cantilevered ramps swung forward from the top of the outer wall to touch down where Rafel’s party and the khan warriors approached. The ramps could be lifted and swung back onto the far wall, leaving no path for an enemy force to cross the fissure.

  Watchful guards manned the top of the outer wall, which had crenels for firing arrows along with troughs and buckets for pouring hot oil. The riders picked up a gallop, hitting the wooden ramps and racing up over the chasm and onto the top of the wall beyond. As the horses hit the twin ramps, the chasm amplified the thrum of their hoofbeats until the sound echoed from the canyon walls.

  As his horse galloped up the ramp, Arn’s heart raced. Never had he felt something as exhilarating as the ride up one of the fifty-pace-long wooden ramps to spill out on top of the broad granite wall. But the group didn’t stop to admire the view. Instead, the horsemen raced down a sod ramp on the wall’s back side onto the parade and training grounds beyond.

  The riders leading Rafel’s party pulled to a sliding halt before an elevated dais in the center of the parade field. Rafel’s group matched them at the halt. The hundreds of riders who then poured over the wall raced around the field counterclockwise, forming a circling vanguard around the group in the center.

  Arn gazed up at the top of the dais, where a throne carved from white stone sat. A man with graying blond hair and beard, glittering armor, and an ornate ax looked down at Rafel.

  The man stood and raised the great ax high in the air. Circling riders slid to a stop as one, wheeling their horses around to face their leader.

  “Khan!”

  The word thundered from every throat and echoed off the valley walls.

  “Unhorse!”

  At the khan’s command, every one of the horsemen dismounted, their feet striking the ground in unison. Only Rafel’s group remained astride their mounts.

  The khan took a step forward on the dais. “I gave a command! You are new here, so I do not expect you to know our ways, but you will react to my commands as do all others in my domain.”

  Rafel’s deep voice carried through the natural amphitheater. “I am Rafel, commander of the legions that defeated the vorg hordes, high lord of the free people of Areana’s Vale, here by invitation of the one known as Khan. I bend knee to no man or god. If you are not the one who invited me, then take me to him and stop wasting my time with petty attempts at intimidation.”

  Arn felt a barely perceptible ripple pass through the scores of warriors surrounding those who came from the vale, a mixture of shock and outrage threatening to overwhelm iron discipline. The moment dragged on as a stifling silence descended on the field. Rafel’s group sat on their horses at ease, including Alan, who watched his father, mirroring his expressions.

  The khan suddenly leapt to the stairs, descending them at a run. At the bottom of the dais, he jumped astride a black warhorse held by a squire and closed the gap, pulling the animal to a stop beside Rafel’s.

  Arn saw the khan’s sparkling blue eyes locked with Rafel’s steel-gray ones.

  “Let’s step down together, then. What say you?” said the khan.

  “Agreed.”

  The two leaders swung off their warhorses, a movement matched by the rest of Rafel’s party. As their feet hit the ground, the khan extended a hand, grasping the outstretched forearm of Rafel.

  “Well met,” the khan said. “I see that my Kanjari friend did not exaggerate in his description of you.”

  Arn felt his body relax. Today would not be their day to die after all.

  17

  Val’Dep

  YOR 414, Late Summer

  The fortress city of Val’Dep stretched out above and before them, climbing the canyon walls on the right and left in a series of steps carved into steep hillsides that ended at the cliff walls. It looked like a multitiered cake that had been cut in two, with both halves having been rotated back to back, a narrow gap separating them. Alan believed that the buildings had been constructed of white limestone, offering peaked tile roofs.

  A twenty-pace-wide lane between high walls was blocked by a series of iron gates. This defense was augmented by the fortified city walls on either side, from which arrows could be fired from the hundreds of crenels lining their tops. More of the cantilevered ramps connected the opposing city walls, allowing troops to traverse Val’Dep above those jammed into the killing zone below.

  High on the steep slopes of the right-hand portion of the city, a white palace perched, its turrets and rooftops covered with brightly colored tiles. A prominent flag with crossed ivory axes on a bloodred background fluttered above the tallest tower. Rafel’s small group, having followed their guide along the road that separated the two halves of the city, found themselves in a broad box canyon that extended several leagues to the northeast. Like Areana’s Vale and the home of the cliff-dwelling Kanjou tribe, the sheer cliffs had been carved eons ago by the glaciers from which the mountain range had gotten its name. Half of this pastoral canyon bottom was farmland, while the other side was used as grazing land for several thousand horses.

  Here the roadway split, with one portion leading around the city wall on the left and another branching around the city wall on the right. Alan marveled at the detail and thought that had gone into Val’Dep’s design and construction. He also noted that the food and water supply could not be cut off without an army having made the trek to this point. And a large cavalry could be assembled in the broad box canyon to greet attackers as they emerged from the narrow gap between the city walls.

  Taking the rightmost branch of the dirt road into the broad valley, they were led around the wall on the right half of the city and up yet another ramp through a gateway beneath a raised portcullis and into the city streets beyond. The streets were paved in cobblestones, ancient and worn from centuries of passing feet, but everywhere they looked, the buildings and streets were meticulously clean and well maintained. The doorways into the houses were either open archways or constructed of dark wood with iron latch handles. All of the houses and shops connected, periodically separated by narrow alleys. Small windows were decorated with colorful cloth curtains, most pulled to the sides and tied with cords. On the larger homes, stone balconies provided a stand
ing or sitting area from which one could look upon the vista below.

  Several things attracted Alan’s interest. Where were the dirty smells and other evidence of the sewage and garbage problems associated with a town of any significant size? He could see none of this, and no foul odors drifted to his nostrils. Men and women moved about their business, pausing to stare at the strangers as they passed. A group of young children began to gather, clad in bright colors, the boys in short pants with colored suspenders and the girls in a wide variety of skirts, dresses, or short pants. Several of the children followed along behind the procession until a guardsman rode back and sent them scurrying to their mothers.

  Alan studied the women who moved through the streets, noting with surprise that their hands showed the calluses of physical labor. Then he saw women hard at work in the shops that lined the main street. All of the tradespeople appeared to be women. They were the butchers, bakers, bricklayers, and blacksmiths. And these women were not slaves. They appeared to be firmly in charge of all the professions that made the khan society function, freeing the men for the profession of arms.

  Rounding a bend in the street, Rafel’s group turned onto a broad avenue that meandered upward toward the gleaming white walls of the palace. The palace gate consisted of a raised portcullis under a thick stone archway between towering walls. Guards strode methodically back and forth along the tops of those walls, their armor gleaming in the sunlight as they paused to peer over the side at the riders below.

  As the riders entered the palace courtyard, several squires came forward, the eldest taking the reins of the khan’s stallion and the others securing the horses of the remainder of the group. Dual rows of guardsmen lined the entrance to the great hall into which the khan ushered his visitors. With a wave of his hand, the khan indicated that those from the vale were to follow the guardsman who awaited them just inside.

  Alan and the rest of Rafel’s group followed the attendant through a pair of thick doors and up a spiral stairway to an ornate apartment, in which a fully provisioned table awaited.

  “My name is Fallon, and I am here to ensure you are properly accommodated. I trust you will find the food to your taste,” the guardsman said. “Should you need anything, pull on the bell rope, and a server will fetch whatever else you desire. The khan has directed me to inform you that this is merely a small meal to take the edge off your appetites. The feast will begin promptly at sunset. I will return to guide you to the banquet hall at that time. Please make yourselves comfortable and enjoy the view from your balcony.”

  Walking over to the draperies on the far wall, Fallon pulled a cord, and they parted, revealing a broad balcony overlooking the courtyard and the valley below. The scene brought exclamations from the entire company.

  “That is truly a sight worth many a day’s travel,” said Rafel.

  “I have never seen the like,” said John. “And that is saying a lot after spending the winter in Endar.”

  With a slight bow, Fallon strode from the room, closing the door in his wake.

  Alan walked out onto the balcony and leaned out over the ledge, gazing down on the grounds below, taking in the courtyards and lower walls to the compound, and then letting his gaze move down over the twin halves of the city and the chasm that separated them in the center of the ravine. The way the city hugged the two steep sides of the canyon, molded into the shape of the rising hillsides onto which the twin halves clung, was a sight from a children’s tale.

  The sounds from below could have been those of any busy locale that he had experienced except for the lack of harsh, guttural tones one picked up in the cruder sections. The closer calls of officers, directing soldiers in their duties, floated up on the breeze. An occasional gust of air flapped the many red and white pennants that fluttered from the walls, both above and below. As Alan listened, he could dimly make out a deep thrumming rush of water through the rock.

  “Magnificent,” Rafel said, coming to stand beside his son on the balcony.

  Alan saw that their entire party had assembled to look out over the scene.

  Ty stepped up to the balcony’s edge as a sudden gust whipped his mane. “For horse warriors to lock themselves in place by building a city,” Ty said, “is more than passing strange.”

  The group followed Rafel back inside the large apartment and seated themselves on the cushioned chairs and sofas that formed a semicircle around the empty hearth. The high lord stood at the focal point.

  “We’re among the wolves now. I do not think that we have seen the last of their aggressive testing of our character,” Rafel said. “What do you think, Ty?”

  “We’ve merely passed the first of a sequence of tests, although they don’t think of them in that way. These people, like the Kanjari, are slow to warm to outsiders. At this point we’ve only been deemed worthy of admittance.”

  “They haven’t cut our throats,” said Broderick, “but I wouldn’t give two pieces of eight for our chances should we stumble.”

  “Keep that in mind,” said Rafel. “I want everyone to follow my lead in both manner and action. Our comportment will be a delicate balance between confidence and brashness, but we must not allow ourselves to lose our tempers.”

  The high lord glanced at his son.

  As the sun set in the west, Fallon appeared to escort the vale travelers down to the site of the banquet. This turned out not to be the great hall they had observed upon entry to the palace but a smaller room entered through a set of double doors. The banquet hall was perhaps thirty paces wide and about the same length.

  A set of thick oaken tables formed a U shape that occupied most of the room, with the khan seated at the center. Warriors were seated along the tables, servers scurrying back and forth among them, bringing platters of food and pitchers of ale. Candelabras festooned the walls and the tables. Nearer at hand, servants turned two roasting pigs on spits above a bed of glowing coals.

  The khan, clad in a white tunic over gold trousers, his hair braided and hanging down his back, stood and raised his glass, an action immediately followed by the fifty or so warriors who occupied places at the tables. “Hail to our guests.”

  “Hail,” the assemblage echoed.

  “High Lord Rafel, I have reserved for you a seat next to my own.”

  Rafel led the others around the tables on the right, directing them to be seated in a section of empty chairs. He continued on and assumed a seat beside the khan. Alan deduced that the warriors who had been invited to the feast represented the leadership of the khan’s kingdom. Yet Alan found it odd that no women were present aside from some of the female servants. Even though women’s roles within Tal’s society were limited, lornesses were certainly welcome at the tables of the nobles. The khan’s feast suffered by comparison.

  The attire of the warriors was uniform and matched that of the khan exactly: white tunic over chain mail, with gold-colored cloth breeches. Hair was blond or red throughout, twin braids down the back, with beard and mustache braided to form twin forks. Metal-studded leather gauntlets covered the wrists and forearms of the khan’s men, although his gauntlets were of gold. Three of the warriors sported black eye patches and scars down their faces.

  The khan rose to his feet once again. With a scraping of chairs, everyone followed his lead. “First, we drink, then the entertainment, then we eat and drink again. To comrades in arms!”

  “Comrades in arms!”

  The khan and all present drained their mugs and sat down. He clapped his hands twice, and a pair of warriors bearing two axes each entered the center area between the tables. “High Lord Rafel, you will now enjoy a demonstration of martial skill the likes of which you have not seen before.”

  He clapped once more, and the two warriors, one redheaded, one blond, immediately whirled around, axes rising and falling in a frenzy of motion as each attempted to dismember the other. Each blow rang out as it was blocked and countered. The pair danced about each other in a continuous blur of motion that would have seem
ed choreographed had the clash of steel been any less deafening.

  The redhead slipped beneath the other’s blow and brought his great ax down on his opponent’s head, somehow stopping the descending blade as it cut into the blond warrior’s skin from forehead to chin. Despite the blood that leaked from the wound, the warrior remained standing. Alan knew that the injury would leave a scar but was not life-threatening. The two combatants lowered their axes and clasped wrists in mutual respect.

  “Bravo!” Rafel roared his approval, standing and clapping long and hard, a move emulated by his men.

  As they resumed their seats, Rafel addressed the khan. “Ty has told me of the skill of your warriors, but that demonstration was truly amazing. My compliments to you and your men.”

  “Thank you for your words,” the khan replied with a nod of his head. “It is unfortunate that we did not have a chance to inform you of our customs before you arrived. Our tradition demands that all parties at a feast of acquaintance offer a demonstration of martial skill. I can hardly judge your lack of preparation.”

  “Khan, I would not expect you to suffer such an insult. We, too, are a warrior people, and as high lord, I am never unprepared. Perhaps you will find our own demonstration to be of some passing entertainment.”

  Rafel signaled to Arn to rise. “Khan, I present to you one whom most people refer to merely as Blade, the finest knife fighter I have ever seen. The king of Tal would often ask Blade to demonstrate his skills before the court.”

  “As you wish, High Lord,” Arn said, moving around the tables to reach a position in the center of the U and in front of the khan and Rafel.

  Alan watched as Arn stooped slightly. His hands barely seemed to move, and a pair of daggers appeared, having left their sheaths in the tops of his boots to tumble lazily above his fingers. Two more knives materialized as well. These were in turn joined by Slaken from its spot at his waist. The pattern carved by the black blade was a whirling motion occupying the center of the circle formed by the other four. Arn’s hands blurred as the speed of the knives increased until only a sequence of shadows could be seen by the light of the candles. And in the very center of the shadowy ring, the spinning Slaken carved a hole.