by B A Fleming
“And yet still with the mouth of a wolf.”
He looked the other two.
“And Aryz Coun, the slave traders’ thug. Is this one a new slave for Khaddam?”
“I have renounced my past scorpion rider. I am now a novice, and guide for this Prince.”
“Once a thug, always a thug, slave trader,” remarked Werta. “Be careful of this one young sire, he will trade you for the cheapest gold, at the quickest of moments.”
He looked at the stranger.
“He speaks the ancient tongue Werta,” suggested Temar. The man smiled at him, and as Werta spoke Temar interpreted.
“If you are a Prince, you are not one of the eastern realm.”
“No, beast rider, I am the Prince of Catheridge, of the Kingdom of the Valley, Hardular,” replied Casperi through Temar.
“From the black dragons’ realm?” he looked incredulously at the other two.
“Yes, Werta. From Hardular.”
“Her highness must be informed of this. Temar, make sure the thug does not sell him, and bring him to the north gate of the city. We will send a garrison out to you before the end of the next day.”
The scorpion riders then disappeared around the dune as their mounts flew across the sand faster than Casperi could have imagined.
“Looks like you’ve got a date with her royal highness,” commented Aryz Coun.
“And it looks like we need a plan,” added Temar.
Chapter 15
True to their word, the Imuhagh scorpion riders sent a party out into the Erg Adagh to meet the travelers. The welcome party brought with them three hairy dromedary camels. Another Imuhagh guard rode towards them as they entered the flat stony plain outside the city, headed by Werta Yullita. They were dark skinned, rough looking men, whose faces were mostly covered by their purple or blue cloth tops and tagelmust.
“Come to see us in Werta?” asked Temar with a wry smile.
“This way, Prince Casperi,” he answered, ignoring the jab. He led them to the captain of the garrison who waited on his own scorpion a hundred yards away.
Both Temar Bolyl and Aryz Coun were well known to the soldiers and their reception was frosty, even though the Imuhagh soldiers had been forewarned that these men were travelling with a prince from a foreign land.
Aryz Coun was considered an outcast and possible criminal in Imuhagh society. As the thug of a slave trader his occupation was frowned upon, and although he had ceased his employment over a year before he was still distrusted by many in the kingdom, as the slave traders were the scourge of the Dearthlands.
To the south of the City of Imuhagh, slavers roamed the Dearthlands operating mainly from the southern cities in the Dominion. and some of the small towns on the far coast of Empire of Morea, the eastern realm, and throughout the distant Paragandi Islands. The elite of the Empire of Morea preferred young children for their personal slaves in their capital, the city of Corone, even though the practice of slavery was officially outlawed through their lands. The more exotic looking the child the more prestigious, although only their guests would ever get to see them. Thus, the Dominion of Imuhagh was ripe picking for the slave traders with the dark-skinned natives spread throughout.
The man’s dark, almost black eyes stared back at Casperi.
“Are you the Prince?” asked the captain, in his harsh tongue.
“Yes, I am Prince Casperi of the Valley Kingdom, Hardular,” Aryz Coun translated for him.
The men nodded and saddled up. They led the party through the final hours of desert on camel back. Casperi found it a firm respite after days of walking.
An hour from the city the distant walls could be seen stretching almost the full width of the valley as it narrowed. The sand had ended but the landscape remained desolate. Casperi looked across the undulating plain in front of him and apart from the mountains that rose out of the horizon the landscape was bare, with only the occasional clump of stunted bushes scattered along dry creek beds. The mainly rocky countryside leading into the mountains that edged the valley was almost as bleak.
As they approached the walls grew in size and dimension with manned towers every three hundred yards. Guards could be seen measuring their paces from one tower to the next. The captain explained to Casperi that the City of the Imuhagh had never been taken. The walls they he saw had been only attacked twice in their history by Ice Gols, or Oni as the Imuhagh referred to them as, many years before and the enemy was easily routed.
The path from the gorge curved up and joined the desert track around five hundred paces from the main gates as a waterfall could be heard thundering down the south-eastern corner of the valley. Another path crept its way outside of the eastern walls as only royalty and warriors were allowed in the upper sections of the city.
The gate keepers frowned at Casperi’s two companions as they entered through the upper city gates. All smiled at each, knowing that their reception would be met with the same contempt at every turn. The captain continued to describe the cities defenses to Casperi.
“Every house, every street, every corner has been built to withstand the strongest of attacks. Only a few times in our history have the Moreans been able to cross the Dearthlands to our home, and then, tired from the weeks of emptiness, they face a castle unlike anything they have seen before.
Each roof has stairs from the back to allow archers and spearmen access, the main street may seem like it twists and turns with the land, but the whole city is shaped by blades and built in stages by the exact instructions of Imuhagh ancient Queens. We have never been defeated and we never will,” he voiced proudly.
The Captain and Werta exchanged their scorpions for camels at the upper garrison. They then led the party with an accompaniment of camel soldiers down through the winding streets. Most soldiers and rich merchants smiled and waved at Casperi, although a few, who recognized Temar looked up and then quickly away.
“You both seem to have a following here,” Casperi gestured to Temar.
“More than we would like,” replied Aryz Coun.
A man in a long golden robe stood in the middle of a square as the party passed them, patiently adjusting a tool that sat upon a dais.
“What is this?” asked Casperi curiously of the captain.
“That is a high priest, using a rubu. It marks the position of the moon. He is the keeper of our days and informs the Queen of the timing of harvests and the travels of the moon.”
The City of the Imuhagh was enormous beyond any imagination. The outer walls of the city itself spanned ten leagues down steep, rocky slopes that separate the highland deserts to the open grassy plains of the Dearthlands. At the northern top entrance to the city, Sandscrapers, scorpion riding, cloth or yak fur clothen soldiers were garrisoned. They patrolled the desert valley and along the deep river ravine that ran through its heart. The cold desert created a formidable barrier for the Ice Gols, mountain trolls, and hill goblins of the mountains. The only road through this hostile region was carved by slaves through the stony ledges on top of the ravine, travelled by Casperi and his party, and used by miners, lumberjacks, and monks.
The city itself was made of layers. A garrison in the upper most section, with a small, but vibrant community that thrived around a meandering road that lead all the way down along the eastern wall to the castle square and down
to the southern gate. The square and below was marked by the eastern gate which joined the ravine path with a southern trail outside of the city walls, and lead directly into the castle square, where most of the community lived.
Their camels walked past the wall of the square where old women who smelt of dead flowers sat, wearily gossiping, watching obtrusively, and gossiping again until they each in turn meandered off to their own homes to sleep for several hours of the afternoon.
A temperature rise as much as ten degrees was not uncommon through the ride from northern to southern gates. Large garrisons were positioned near every entry point and a winding path from any of t
hese towards the castle gave ample defensive capability.
Further down, the southern gate opened up to the largest and busiest of the Imuhagh markets. This was the place of the common people and all types of entertainment, lodgings, and an execution arena were placed. Traders from the Empire of Morea were only allowed into this section of the city, as a large garrison and gate was maintained where the castle began and the road wound up into the middle levels.
The Dearthlands garrison was stationed just inside the southern gate and patrols would leave regularly to maintain the roads leading to the Empire of Morea and to the fabled southern city of Amadghor.
The Imuhagh Palace itself spread out across several flat terraces to cover most of the western third of the city. Nobles and rich merchants held accommodations in the lower portions within the palace walls.
The central markets were a throng of activity and diversity. Men passed the party dressed in desert garb, head to foot in mauve or dark blue robes, only their dark eyes revealed to indicate that a human was inside the form. Other men wore little more than a loincloth wrapped around their private parts, sweating over hot grills, or walking along with silver or copper bracelets and earrings, dragging chains of slaves along behind them.
Savannah hunters from the west were not much more clothed, with intricately designed chains of silver that flowed from their noses, through their ears, and then down
and around their dark skinned necks.
Children from a multitude of backgrounds ran through the streets with sticks through old wagon rims or spinning tops in their hands made of waste wood and string, whilst dark skinned women in colorful shoulder to knee fine cloth dresses drank cafe and tea at outdoor restaurants, obviously the wives of rich merchants or royalty.
Casperi felt accosted by odors and perfumes of all sorts, from erotic smells of passing women to foul, unwashed shirts of street sellers. If it had not been for the Imuhagh guard surrounding them, he was sure that he would have been caught up in the crowd as it ebbed and surged around their entourage.
Very few felt the need to move out of the way of the oncoming soldiers, so the pace was more stop start as they pushed through the crowd. Occasionally Casperi glanced down to see small hands reaching in through the guards looking to grab anything of value.
“Do you see these thieves’ hands?” he commented.
“We’d be stripped of nothing if we didn’t have this guard,” replied Temar. “Stab them with your knife if they come too close. They will get message pretty quick.”
A few minutes later the road widened as the markets flowed into the main square and the guard sped up their canter towards the Imuhagh Palace gates.
The captain and Werta bowed to the prince as he dismounted.
“Always at your service, your highness,” he acknowledged. “And please let me know if either of your companions betray you as swift justice will be served.” Temar had looked the Werta several times who indicated to express the message in its entirety.
The palace guards took over at the gates. They were scantily dressed, in a white kilt held by a brown belt, a leather vest and gold colored helmet. They each carried a wooden spear topped with a very shiny silver spear head.
“He’s really got it in for you two,” noted Casperi as they were led in through a series of large arched corridors to a small courtyard. They were then steered up the stairs that snaked up through several levels, allowing arrow slits to
be situated in perfect vantage points to take unwary intruders out as they topped each flight. High columns rose well above them with the yellow stonework smoothed such that no handholds could be made without effort. Atop the final steps were two large columns with guard towers situated either side of an archway and low battlements that ran the length of internal walls both above the complete width of the staircase and the surrounding area. The archway opened out to a wide courtyard.
Palm fronds hung over pools filled with large fish of orange and white swam in the shade beside one of the long walkways. A temple in the middle of the square was surrounded on all sides by precipitous steps that rose ninety-nine times to a large dais and platform. On every Sabbath, two slaves were sacrificed into a deep pit that sunk deep under the city on this dais. The sacrifice was to appease the gods for all the wrong doings of the people of the city for the past week. A similar platform had been built further down in the lower city and up to ten prisoners were publicly executed each Sabbath.
The Imuhagh Palace had seemed only a reasonable size from the outside. Now that the party had made their way up to the royal pavilion they found that they were surrounded by extensive grounds. Directly in front of them a long pathway ran the length of the courtyard, and finely manicured gardens of varying colors spanned out each side.
Surrounding the courtyard were heavily arched breezeways and rooms with large ornately decorated openings. Doors were kept to a minimum, with only a few solid wooden doors in view across the expanse of the royal pavilion which rose up at the far end of the path. They were taken across the area at a leisurely pace so that the whole gardens could be taken in.
Casperi, Aryz Coun, and Temar were stopped on the verandah of the pavilion as their accompanying guards separated to take up positions in a row each side of the doorway. Their guide motioned for them to remove their footwear.
A young woman who had been standing just inside the door came and kneeled before Casperi and looked at him.
Her soft, brown eyes were devoid of emotion as she began unbuckling his boots and slipping them off in turn.
The guide stood at the edge of the doorway and indicated for the men to enter. A similarly dressed servant directed Casperi to stand in front of the Queens’ lounge-like throne, as Aryz Coun and Temar were directed to cushions near the doorway. Queen Emba sat with a black panther by her side.
“It’s okay, Isy,” she patted the big cat.
“Welcome young lord. You must be tired from your journey,” she spoke the old language with a thick accent.
“We are one and the same, your highness,” announced Casperi as he bowed and knelt before Queen Emba.
“We are one and the same, Prince Casperi,” she replied with a smile. “I see my guards have trained you on the proper greeting of my people. Please call me Queen Emba,” she added. “You are the first of your valley to enter our realm in my lifetime.”
“There have been others?” questioned Casperi, surprised by this statement, as he was indicated to sit on a low cushion to the right of the Queen.
“Many, in eons past, young lord,” she mused. “From what I understand even some trade was done in ancient times with the Hidden Valley.”
Drinks were served to the Queen, her advisors, and then to Casperi.
“Your Black Dragon has not made it easy for us to explore the Hardular and the upper valley. He has created, let’s say, many obstacles, to stop us from venturing beyond our own realm in that region.”
“But my companions here and their fellow miners found me.”
“Not under my instructions, and although I do not disallow these actions, their own death, like many of those before, would not be celebrated for such a foolhardy endeavor.”
“Are not the riches of the upper valley of interest to you?”
“They are inconsiderable compared to those found in the lower valley and western mountains. Those reserves of gold and fine metals are of little consequence to us of the Imuhagh.”
A man along from the Queen bowed slightly in his seated position, with his right hand on his chest.
“Second Advisor Kendro?” she indicated, acknowledging the man.
The second advisor looked like a man who had had a strong build many years before. He was an old warrior and wore a distinctive golden breastplate which had a large hole in it with several cracks running from the hole. He was called Kendro the Defiler of the Eastern Realm, the warrior that killed the Morean king over forty summers before and now wore his breastplate with honor.
Temar had hea
rd only legends of this man. A warrior unsurpassed on the field of battle, he led Imuhagh hoards against invading forces for over ten summers. His leadership had ensured that the Imuhagh secured the lands that they now had. His sons had married into royalty when they came of age and were considered fierce generals in their own right, with the Queens own sister married to his eldest.
“Young Prince. Your companions are known by my guards for the command of their execution. Do you come before us enslaved by them or as a free man?” enquired Kendro.
“I am a free man your highness and they are both in my service. They are my guides and my own guard.”
“You surely know of their reputations?”
“Yes, but I also know of their loyalty, and their redemption. Even the most disruptive of children can make a fine warrior.”
“Then you have saved them from the executioners’ blade for this day,” acknowledged Kendro as he and the Queen both quietly nodded to each other.
Casperi looked back directly towards Queen Emba and then bowed his head as she looked at him. Aryz Coun had stood and stepped forward, although several steps away from Casperi. With the solemnness of a monk he had trained to be for the past year, he bowed, and the Queen acknowledged his approach.
“Your highness, if I may be so bold,“ he asked looking at her feet as he spoke. “My Master Shang sends his greetings.”
“You are in the service of Master Shang now, Aryz Coun?” queried the Queen.
“As is my companion, Temar Bolyl,” he acknowledged, pointing to Temar, who remained quietly in the corner. “And we have been tasked to be servants and guides to the young prince.”
“I am sure that you were a cat in your previous life, Aryz Coun, for I have never met one so fortunate to avoid the axe.”
Several laughed at this as the Queen nodded at Aryz Coun and looked back at Casperi. He then returned to his cushion at the back of the room.
“My spies tell me that the Oni have moved in great numbers towards your homeland young prince. What do you know of this?”