Rise of the Red Harbinger

by Khalid Uddin

  Savaiyon pushed off from the wall and initiated a walk down the busy main road. “Save the humor. These streets are too busy for anyone to care about us. Let us go watch the snake charming women.”

  Vasher felt compelled to correct him, “Daughters of Tahlia.”

  He’d grown up walking through the street markets, helping the adults take wagers on beasts, scampering after his mother and the other dancers. His mother was the only dancer that allowed her child to be involved with their preparation. Then again, she was likely the only Sundari woman ever that allowed her child to stay in contact with his father. But Vasher never shared that secret, so he had no idea if any other children were allowed the same leniency.

  He had been at the House of Darian for just over a year, though Marlowe had sent him on this mission over a month ago. In his time at the House, Vasher paid close attention to the customs and ways of others, and often times inquired with others about habits in other nations. He found it intriguing, how others lived and the things they deemed important. Thus far, he had yet to find any culture, nation, or town that functioned even partially like Sundari.

  Even aside from the chaos of the beast pits and men from all over Ashur flocking in to see the street dancers, family life alone resembled nothing from any other culture. Vasher inhaled another puff of tambaku very slowly. He held it in his mouth for a moment, and then softly released it through a thin opening in his lips. He was enjoying the Fangh-Haan mint more than the local variety.

  They walked a few blocks in silence before Savaiyon finally spoke up. “You said that you are celebrating. Does that mean that Fangh-Haan has agreed to support the House?”

  Vasher gave Savaiyon a sideways glance. “Yes.”

  “Yes is not good enough. You know that. What of this alliance? Not supporting the king is one thing. But will the Anonymi fight for us?” Vasher looked at him and was about to say something, but then closed his mouth again. “The truth, boy. If you have this much trouble telling me the truth without your manifestation, then how do you plan to tell Zin Marlowe?”

  Vasher rolled his eyes. “Fine. The Elders of Fangh-Haan have agreed to shift their allegiance from Cerysia to the House. But they do not speak for the Anonymi. The Elders made it perfectly clear that, while the Anonymi reside within the nation of Fangh-Haan, the Anonymi govern themselves. Fangh-Haan has no jurisdiction over them.”

  Savaiyon’s eyes narrowed. “So why then do you consider this a victory? Clearly you did not succeed with the more difficult part of your mission.”

  Vasher smiled and spoke insistently. “It is a victory for every other Descendant except Zin Marlowe. Including yourself. Do you not see it, Maven Savaiyon? If Marlowe cannot rely on the Anonymi for protection and support, then sooner or later he will have to loosen his reigns and give us more allowances. We are all tired of not being able to train in combat. Look at the two of us! If we were to be attacked on these streets, what could we do to fight back? Even with our manifestations, our only options would be for me to persuade our attackers not to fight us while you create a doorway for us to run away. If Jahmash does return in our lifetime, how are we even close to being prepared to fight back? It’s as though everyone takes the threat of Jahmash seriously except for Marlowe.

  “Most Descendants who can use their manifestations for combat would love the opportunity to learn how to do just that. So while Marlowe’s mission components were not fulfilled, I consider this a victory for us. And for all the others back home who are tired of being treated like children.”

  “We will have to meet with the Anonymi.”

  “Say that again?” Vasher could hardly believe what he’d heard. “Are you truly suggesting this? One does not simply walk into the Anonymi fortress and demand to meet with them.”

  “Marlowe entrusted you with a mission. You have not fulfilled his request. It is that simple.”

  Vasher stopped himself just short of glaring at Savaiyon. “Whose side are you on?” His tone was more accusing than he intended.

  “Remember yourself, Master Jai. I am not some casual friend of yours. I am on the side of the entire House. And aside from that, I know Marlowe much better than you do. When you return and tell him exactly what happened, he will tell you to return and speak with the leaders of the Anonymi. He will not care how you arrange such a meeting, but he will expect that you do as he says. You stand here complaining about the horrors of your living conditions, and yet you have the luxury of relaxing in the city where you grew up, watching beasts fight and smoking your pipe. Do you know how many Descendants, how many of your friends, would sacrifice anything to be able to return home for even an hour?

  “I am not telling you this because I am against you. I am saving you the trouble of returning to the House and losing Marlowe’s trust. If you return now, it will be a waste of time for both of us. We will stay here tonight, and tomorrow we will develop a strategy for arranging this meeting. In two days, we will make our attempt to speak with the Anonymi. Understood?”

  “Fine.” It wasn’t an argument Vasher could win. Sometimes he wondered what the point was of having a manifestation that could persuade people, if he lost most of the arguments that mattered, anyway.

  “Good. Now I suppose we must hurry. The Daughters of Tahlia await and we no longer have a great deal of time for you to tell me about them.”

  Vasher chuckled as he scurried to catch up. “They await? What is your obsession with them? Are you in love with one of them or something?” A horrible thought popped in his head of Savaiyon fancying his mother. “Never mind. Seriously, though, what is your fixation with them? All they are, are a bunch of dancers–very good dancers–that do some crazy things with snakes.”

  “I am simply curious. I have heard many stories of them and have never had the opportunity to come here until now. You can call it a learning experience.”

  “You can call it a learning experience. I’ll call it something else. Do you think that two days will be enough time to develop a sound plan for the Anonymi? Even if I use my manifestation to try and persuade them, would it even work on them? I have heard that they are not affected by certain manifestations. And how do we even know where to find them?”

  Savaiyon put up a hand to stop him from talking. “Leave finding them to me. I have certain…correspondences. We will create several plans. Neither of us knows what to expect in this situation. Therefore, we must be prepared for everything. We will attempt to convince them in many ways, and will simply fall back on a new plan every time something does not work out.”

  Vasher stifled a protest. There was only so much planning they could do. The Anonymi would only sit and listen to them for so long. Instead of responding, he walked beside Savaiyon the rest of the way until they reached one of the squares where the Daughters of Tahlia performed. They could have stopped at other sections, but Vasher knew this to be the best location. If Savaiyon wants to see the Daughters, he’ll see the best performance. From their side of the street, they could barely see the commotion. Several rows of men and women stood in front of them watching the Daughters of Tahlia dance and thrust and gyrate on a stage the length of the square. Vasher filed in behind Savaiyon as the statuesque man pushed his way to the front of the crowd. It’s always good to have a tall friend in situations like this. It also helped that they bore the Descendants’ Mark, as Sundari tended to celebrate unconventional people and things more so than the rest of the world.

  They stopped when nothing or no one else stood in front of them except the platforms where the dancers performed. Vasher felt a tinge of guilt since Savaiyon was well taller than anyone else in the crowd. He’d grown close to Savaiyon in his time at the House, yet had never seen this side of the man. Savaiyon always maintained an even keel and, while the man was not dry or drab, barely ever displayed any elevated emotions, except for when he had to put some of the novices in their places.

  Vasher was unsure of whether his manifestation was the reason, but over the years he had formed a
penchant for being able to read people and the emotions that hid behind the things they said and did. Curiosity isn’t the only reason Savaiyon was here. There’s definitely something more. But even aside from Savaiyon being a Maven of the House, Vasher held too much respect for the man to question Savaiyon’s motives. Not for something like this, anyway. If there was something that he wasn’t telling Vasher, then it was for good reason. “So you know the history, right?” He shouted over the hooting and hollering crowd.

  Savaiyon did not even turn his head away from the platform. “Darian’s wife, Alaina, confined their daughter, Tahlia, to a single room in their house because of her beauty and permanently implanted into Tahlia’s mind the notion that all men were dangerous. She refused to free Tahlia from confinement until the girl promised that she would avoid men and the dangers they posed. Tahlia agreed. And from the time she was barely a woman, Tahlia’s beauty drove men mad, but she turned them all away. However, she grew lonely and desperately sought companionship, so she found other avenues. She fell in love with a woman and spent the rest of her years with her, though made arrangements for a man to impregnate her on a few occasions. Is that accurate?”

  “Spot on.”

  Savaiyon nodded toward the dancers. “And all of these women still follow that example?”

  “I am living proof. I technically have two mothers and a father. And I can say the same for every person I have met who was born of a Daughter of Tahlia.”

  “But how do the men take this lifestyle? As I understand it, they are merely used to conceive a child and then have no interaction whatsoever.”

  “It is an interesting dynamic. You have to realize, though, that nearly all men who enter this arrangement understand how it works. They do not have any romantic interest in the women and they are not looking to raise a child. If anything, for many of them it is an ideal situation; they get to lay with a sensual, beautiful woman and face none of the consequences or responsibilities after. Often times, the woman will call on the same man when she is ready to have another child.”

  “You said nearly all men understand. What happens when they do not?” Savaiyon still had not turned his gaze from the dancers.

  “There can be…complications. I suppose it depends. Sundari protects the Daughters very well. So if the men get violent, they can be imprisoned or banished. That does not really happen very often though.”

  “What about emotionally? What if the men become attached?”

  Vasher paused for a moment. “I am not sure.” He did not want to have this conversation in the most crowded part of Sundari. He could tell Savaiyon about his father another time. “I have never really heard of a situation like that.”

  Savaiyon glanced at him and nodded briefly, then returned his gaze to the Daughters. Vasher was grateful for the gesture. He looked around at the platforms and the dancers. Despite having spent his whole childhood in the center of this town, he could understand why so many people were drawn to it. The dancers were captivating, and although it was common knowledge that they had no interest in men, men flocked to watch them every day and threw money at them without remorse.

  The Daughters wore skimpy, shiny outfits and regularly performed with snakes on their stages. Sometimes the snakes would be in barrels and other times the snakes would be out in the open. People always doubted that the snakes were truly venomous, but a childhood friend of Vasher’s had learned the truth the hard way.

  It was something in the music and the way the Daughters danced that mesmerized the vipers and the men alike. Both were at the mercy of the Daughters and could not shake their hypnotizing appeal. Although Vasher had a different experience with the Daughters, he knew why men fell into the trap. The way these women looked at every man in the audience, each one of them likely believed that they had a chance with any of the women. Vasher obviously knew better, and even if he hadn’t seen most of these women as family members, he was too afraid of them to ever consider fancying one. The Daughters were tough and usually quite crazy. Despite their sensual nature on the stage, they acted much differently outside of the public’s gaze.

  One Daughter, Vesta, who was not much older than Vasher, stepped down from her stage to tantalize the crowd. Her green and gold outfit, full of tassels and leaving barely anything to imagination, glistened in the sunlight and drew the men and women wild as she smiled at them. She moved along one side of the crowd, dancing with a thick snake draped across her shoulders and arms. A man from the other side grew brave and ran out to her. Most spectators would have assumed that Vesta hadn’t noticed, but when the man got within ten feet of Vesta, she flung a thin dagger from a fold in her corset and struck the man in the throat. He writhed for a few moments until life and blood drained from him. The Daughters and audience continued on like nothing had happened as two large soldiers broke through the crowd and searched the dead man’s pockets. They tossed a pouch of coins to toward Vesta’s stage and dragged the body away.

  “I haven’t seen that happen in a while.” Vasher said to Savaiyon. He had been so lost in thought that he’d forgotten Savaiyon was with him. He turned back toward the man only to see someone else standing there. Where is he? How could I lose someone so big? Vasher turned to the man behind him, “Did you see where my fr…where my uncle went? The tall man that was standing next to me?”

  The man gave him an almost blank stare. “Sorry mate, didn’t even know there was anyone next to ya. Too busy lookin at what matters.”

  “Right.” Vasher shook his head and bustled through the crowd, walking away from the stages. If Savaiyon could create doorways with his mind at will, it would be impossible to know where to even start looking for him.

  ***

  “Stop feeling guilty. It is selfish for you to feel guilt. I understand our situation and I accept it. So have your brothers. So should you.”

  Vasher’s father always seemed to know what was on his mind. He had barely even walked into the house and his father knew what he was thinking. He hadn’t seen his father in nearly two years, by far the longest he’d gone without seeing him. “You just know, don’t you?”

  “You are my son. And if I was in your position, I would feel just like you do. Which is why I am telling you not to. You are lucky. We are lucky, Wassa. Most children of the Daughters never see their fathers’ faces even once. I am blessed by the Orijin and by your mother that I can see you and bond with you. So please, for both of our sakes, do not feel any guilt. Feel appreciation that we even have this. I have never told anyone of our arrangement, but I see the faces of some of the men who were never able to let go. Many of them carry a great burden. You should thank the Orijin every day that He allows you this blessing. I certainly do.”

  Vasher shifted on his cushion. He had not missed having to sit on the floor all the time. “Very well. Tell me how you are doing then.”

  “I am restless. That is how I am doing. There is no longer any need for an old military man in Sundari…or in most of Shivaana. Now that this nation is at peace with everyone, many of us have no purpose.”

  “Become a sentry. Spit of a Janga, you could even protect Mother from the rooftop.”

  His father waved a hand dismissively. “Those jobs are for young men your age who take their lives too seriously. Not that I am too old, but I prefer to avoid that kind of stress.”

  Vasher grew impatient. His father was clearly trying to tell him something, but as usual, preferred to do so the long way. “So then what?”

  “Fine, rob me of my fun.” He continued to smile. “There is a ship leaving Gansishoor in a few weeks. A friend of mine has informed me that it is the largest, best equipped ship Shivaana has ever built. The captain and crew plan to set sail to find other nations beyond Ashur. They will accommodate capable guests with housing, food, and entertainment for the duration of the journey. Obviously the cost is a handsome amount, but I have been compensated well for my involvement in our military.”

  Vasher pressed his hands to his thighs. “Why this? W
hy now?”

  “I know what you are thinking…”

  “Stop empathizing with me and give me an answer.”

  His father knew him too well to be offended at Vasher’s curtness. “You are correct. Wassa, all I do these days is sit home and let the time go by. On exciting days, I walk through the streets to take in the sights, but that quickly becomes old when you have lived here your whole life. Your brothers have gone off to live their lives, and now you have your life at the House of Darian. You know me, Wassa. I need to live. I need adventure. This is my opportunity to do so in a way that is not dangerous. I get to live at sea for who knows how long. I can finally live my life on my terms again.”

  Vasher paused for a moment. His first instinct would have been to argue, but his father was one of the most stubborn people he knew. He wasn’t asking Vasher for his advice; his mind was already made up.

  His second instinct would have been to grasp his manifestation and persuade his father otherwise. However, Vasher could not recall the last time he had sensed so much hope in his father’s voice or even seen it in his eyes.

  Vasher finally thought of something appropriate to say, that would show his father that he supported the decision, when a flash of yellow seared the air in the middle of the room and expanded into a giant square. Savaiyon stepped out of the empty space as the yellow lines closed in behind him. “We must go to Fangh-Haan now.”

  Vasher could feel the heat in his face. “That’s it? You disappear without a word and then show up here a day later making demands? We are in the middle of an important conversation. You can wait. Fangh-Haan can wait. The Anonymi can drink Janga venom.”

  “You forget your place, Vasher.”