The Rise of Nazil

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  “It would be my pleasure.” He smiled. “We could start with a walk. Brahanu is well tended, and I’ve finished my training. Cazaal is unlike Nazil, the weather is always mild, even in the cold season. Do you have time to walk with me?”

  Gali looked down at her dress, shaking her head. “Look at the state of me. I wouldn’t want to be seen with you like this.”

  “Well, our first stop will be the seamstress, then. Nesrine is a close friend of my family, and she’ll measure you for a proper fit. If it pleases you, I’ll have her sew something more to your liking.”

  “I don’t have coin for anything like that.”

  “Nor do you need it. Permit me to offer you this one kindness. It’s the least that I can do for your kind heart in forgiving my idiocy.”

  She stood, accepting his offered elbow. “Well, there’s no harm in having her measure.”

  Kaleo

  “You’re not going to do anything, Nesdin?” his brother asked.

  “I plan not to anger the Zaxson. If the word Hacom sends is true, Draizeyn holds no malice toward Kaleo. With Spero now complete, we’re surrounded by the Nazilians. I’d be foolish to take up arms against such a force.”

  “Caretaker,” Mahati said. “Couldn’t I at least prepare our sentries? If the Nazilians are going to war, we won’t be free from it.”

  “Mahati, as our lead sentry, your concern is duly noted. However, we’ve committed no crime against Nazil. The Zaxson seeks these traitors in Noraa and this hidden village. We’ve always maintained affable relations with the Nazilians, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “Brother, that’s more our doing than theirs,” Nissim said. “Draizeyn could care little and less for us. I doubt he’d stop his guard in Noraa and leave us unscathed.”

  “I agree,” Nohek Larak said. “The Nazilians take great pleasure in punishing the many for the offenses of the few. We saw what became of Hyorin when they committed no slight at all. It would be wise to alert the sentries and increase the guard. The people need to know of the coming danger.”

  Nesdin shook his head. “No. The people will remain ignorant of this, and our current sentry rotations will suffice. Have you forgotten that we have numerous Nazilians visiting Kaleo now? They’d definitely notice such an obvious change and wonder at the cause. What we’re going to do is send a message to the Zaxson about this treachery.”

  Sounds of protest erupted throughout the hall as Efraim stood and bowed.

  “I don’t mean to offend, Caretaker, but a message to Nazil would be foolish,” Efraim said. “In doing so, we’d endanger Noraa, Cazaal, and those brave men of Nazil Lord Ravenot trusts.”

  “Haven’t you been paying attention?” Nesdin said, irritably. “They’re already in danger. I’m strategizing how to keep Kaleo free from it. Notifying the Zaxson of this information could do just that.”

  “I must also caution you against this,” Nohek Orii said. “Draizeyn holds great disdain for those who do as you suggest. He’ll use the information you provide, but the whole village will suffer the consequences.”

  “You talk as if you know the man, Orii. I find that odd since you barely leave your oratory. When did you become an expert on Faélondulian politics?”

  “I care little for politics. My concern is for the lives of the people I serve. The Nazilians’ barbarity even penetrate the walls of the temple. For two full moons, the mangled corpses of human traitors hung from Hyorin’s gates. You needn’t be a man of great position to understand the heart of evil. You assigned me to this council with good cause. I pray that you don’t dismiss my concerns so callously.”

  Nesdin glanced around the room, incensed. “Are none of you willing to protect our people here?”

  “Brother,” Nissim said. “We’re concerned about our people’s welfare, as well as Noraa’s and Cazaal’s. The Nazilians can’t be trusted. I understand if you don’t want to warn our people about this threat. That could create chaos, but we should increase our sentries and shore up Kaleo’s defenses. We could double the sentries at the farthest posts and get the ballistae mounted atop the wall. If the Nazilians attempt to storm our gates, they can light the signal fires and defend the wall.”

  Mahati nodded. “If your main concern is protecting Kaleo, we’ll need to take some precautions. Even if the Nazilians don’t attack, war preparedness is an essential exercise. We’ve been far too lax, and it’s time to correct that oversight.”

  Nesdin threw his hands up in exasperation. He didn’t want to anger the Nazilians, yet his council’s points were valid. He wondered if Hyorin had such a warning and chose to ignore it. Regardless of his reservations, in the end, he’d do what was best for the people he’d sworn to protect.

  “One privilege of being Caretaker is having the council to advise me without the burden of being forced to heed that advice.” When his brother began to protest, Nesdin silenced him with an upraised hand. “With that said, I’ll take your counsel under consideration. Mahati, assign additional sentries to the guard posts and ensure they’re properly equipped and informed.”

  “With pleasure, Caretaker.”

  “Even though I believe sending a message to Nazil would be beneficial, I won’t do so at this time. The denizens of Kaleo aren’t to learn anything about what we’ve discussed. This information remains with the council and sentries.”

  “Yes, Caretaker,” they said with scattered response.

  “Thank you for your time. Please, leave me now to my thoughts.”

  The men exited the hall after offering nods to the Caretaker. Nesdin stood and walked to the window, looking out over the small village. Many things had changed after Hyorin. Hordes of humans fled to Kaleo after their homes were destroyed. It took years to turn the fishing community into a thriving village. He thought much of the progress was due to the decisions that he’d made. After the Zaxson appointed him as Caretaker, he felt an obligation not only to the humans, but to Nazil as well. Was he in error?

  “Come,” he said after hearing the soft tapping on the door. As his sons entered the room, he forced a smile, motioning to the table.

  Chauncer was the elder of the two. When first he learned of the threat, he wanted to lock the gates and prepare for war. He leaned, awaiting his father’s words, but his brother spoke first.

  “Father, what’s been decided? Will you make an announcement to the people?”

  “That wouldn’t be wise, Aubry. Not only would it cause panic, it would alert the Nazilians visiting Kaleo.”

  “Surely, we’ll shore up our defenses and begin drills,” Chauncer asked, sweeping the long, sable hair from his face.

  Nesdin nodded. “If this threat is real, we must protect our people.”

  “Will Mahati assign the sentries?”

  “He’s the commander, Chauncer. No one knows the men better than he.”

  “What about me?” Chauncer asked. “Don’t I have any say regarding the new assignments?”

  “In different circumstances, you would. We need our most experienced men at the posts. For now, I’d have you and your brother remain close to the citadel.”

  Chauncer stood in frustration. “This is fine for Aubry, his duties are here. I’m a sentry and need to be out protecting the village. Mahati doesn’t give me a proper opportunity to prove my skill.”

  “Your opportunity will come, and too soon, I fear. If war comes to Kaleo, no one will be free from it. Don’t be so eager to welcome death, my son.”

  Chauncer scoffed. “The only death will be delivered by my hand. You think too much of the Nazilians. They needn’t prove their power when we hand it to them freely. The humans have remained idle too long. If it’s a war that the ghosts of the east crave, they’ll have it.”

  “Don’t be so quick to offer death, either, Chauncer. We remember the massacre of Hyorin well. It’d be best if you did the same.”

  “I recall well the lessons taught, Father. How much resistance did they receive when they lit the homes on fire and slau
ghtered those who ran from them? Kaleo won’t be Hyorin. There’re no traitors among us to aid Nazil in their slaughter. When they come here, they’d better arrive as men, because they’ll be meeting the same. We’ll be ready, and all of Nazil will pay before the end of it.”

  “I want to join the sentries, too,” Aubry said. “The Nazilians speak of honor, yet they’re planning another cowardly attack. If they’re such a great force, why don’t they openly declare war?”

  Nesdin’s almond-shaped eyes briefly closed, listening to his son’s wisdom. Desiring favor from Draizeyn had clouded his mind to obvious truths.

  “You’re right. Instead of joining with Cazaal and Noraa, I wanted to warn the very man who’d take my life without thought.” Nesdin sighed. “Chauncer, are their still Nazilians residing at the inn?”

  “Yes. There are eight of them, Father,” he sneered. “They delight themselves with our women without Nazil’s eyes upon them. Not even a whore should be forced to lay with those soulless reprobates.”

  “The whores only care about the coin in their pockets,” Aubry said. “They give no care who lies between their legs.”

  “Even so, I want them watched,” Nesdin said. “I task the both of you with this. Is there one other that you can trust to do the same?”

  “Yes. There’s one I trust with my life,” Chauncer said. “His name is Amare Yeondi. Many seasons ago, he lost most of his family to Nazilian pirates. Mahati recently promoted him as well.”

  “Excellent. Have him join you and your brother. If there’s any move from Nazil, you’ll take these men immediately. I’d like them as prisoners, but if that isn’t possible, kill them where they stand.”

  Myth and Legend

  Wosen winced, making slow strides in their cell. Although his gait was still unsteady, he was able to walk without Hushar’s assistance. Most of his outer wounds were nearly healed, but the inner ones were more difficult to mend.

  “Much better, young one, your stance has improved,” Hushar said. “I was worried that your ankles wouldn’t heal properly. It’s good that you’re able to bear your full weight.”

  “It’s by your hand, Hushar.”

  “Anyone could’ve tended your wounds. Had you been Nazilian, you would’ve received proper care.”

  “If I were Nazilian, I wouldn’t have needed it, old mum,” he said, bending down to kiss her cheek.

  Hushar looked up at him, smiling wistfully. That simple truth made her heart ache as she watched him stagger away. “You don’t want to overdo. I’ll need to check your bandages and make sure they’re fitting proper. Come now, let’s have a look.”

  Wosen laid down on the mattress, watching as she tended him. He’d grown fond of Hushar during their time together. She and Jahno were the only sources of happiness for him now. Regardless of what he’d have to face, the time with them brought back a sense of purpose, and a sliver of humanity that had been lost in the dark chamber.

  Hushar helped him realize many things, not only about himself, but also about what he could still accomplish. He loathed the thought of leaving her in Nazil, but his own freedom wasn’t guaranteed. He’d heed her words, and if the opportunity to flee arose, he’d take it.

  No one knew the wood as well as he did, and he knew where to lead the Nazilians to offer the greatest cover for his escape. But with that escape came great risks. Wosen had never ventured far into the mountains, but for his freedom, he’d face whatever awaited him in those towering peaks.

  “There, now. Is it too tight?” Hushar asked, patting his ankle.

  “No, it feels good,” he said, attempting to rise.

  “Not yet. I know you’re no longer comfortable with it, but I need to check your arse and groin.”

  He sighed in protest. “It’s—it’s healed well and there’s only a little pain. My bowels are fine and the other…must you look?”

  “I must. You didn’t see what they did to you, Wosen. I thought the wound on your arse alone would take you from me. That spike ripped up your insides and brought them without. It took all the gods and Guardians to heal such a wound. And if you’re still wanting your promise, I’ll need to check.” She smiled.

  Standing pensively, he removed his tunic and then laid back upon the mattress. His thoughts were no longer on his nakedness, but on Hibret.

  “They’ve taken that from me, too, old mum. If I see Hibret again, she wouldn’t have me. I look more a creature than her promised, and what they did to my manhood wouldn’t allow for sons or pleasures of any kind. It doesn’t respond anymore, and I have nothing to offer her.”

  “You see, there’s redness,” she said, examining his wounds. “Mayhaps you’ve exercised enough this day. I’ll clean it now and apply some more ointment. Lie still and I’ll have it done.”

  Wosen nodded, tucking his hands beneath his chin. When her cold hand touched his skin, he clenched up, and she gently spanked his cheek, causing him to chuckle. Not since his capture had he laughed aloud.

  “Young one, don’t worry about your promise. If Hibret loves you the way you’ve said, these scars will mean little. Now, turn over and I’ll check the other wound.”

  He sighed, turning on his back, and closed his eyes as she lifted his manhood.

  “Your children will come, Wosen.”

  “No. They’ve taken both my seed and my desire.”

  Hushar’s expression was forlorn as she glanced up and began massaging and stroking him tenderly. He jerked, his body responding immediately to her practiced touch. When he looked down, his face flushed, ashamed at being aroused by his old mum’s touch.

  “You see,” she said. “With the lightest touch, your seed is ready. They only took one from you, Wosen. You have another, and many opportunities to know and love your promised.”

  Wosen nodded, embarrassed, yet thankful, as he continued to look down until his manhood rested against his thigh again.

  “Old mum, will they come for me now?”

  “It’ll be soon. You just do as you’re told and don’t say anything that you’re not asked. Do what you need to, and don’t forget your purpose.”

  “I love you, old mum,” he said, enfolding her into his arms.

  “I love you, too,” she said, unable to keep the tears from her eyes. He reminded Hushar of her son, and she couldn’t bear the thought of losing Wosen as she had him. Although she’d never told Wosen about her son’s death, the pain of it was fresh in her heart each time she saw a Nazilian.

  “You best cover yourself now,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I don’t want you catching a chill.”

  “Is he the one?” a man asked, approaching the cell.

  “Yes, Sir. That’s the abomination.”

  Pulling Wosen closer, Hushar whispered, “You flee at first chance, young one. You hear me? Flee.”

  He returned her embrace and then moved aside. If they were here to take him, he wouldn’t put Hushar in danger. He’d accept his fate, standing tall and showing no fear. He was a Neufmarche, and he’d honor his father’s memory by being the man that he’d raised him to be.

  “Have that slave clean him up,” the man said. “He’ll not ride with me with that stench on him. Jahno will bring some fresh clothes as well. He’s to meet with the Zaxson, and will do so with the utmost respect.”

  The man turned and was gone as quickly as he’d arrived. Neither of them had seen the likes of him before. But he elicited the same feeling in both of them. Fear.

  “All right, you heard him. Get out of there and down to the bath chamber.”

  Taking Wosen’s hand, Hushar led him from the room. As they walked the long corridor, few slaves were in their cells. Many were tending their duties for the citadel. The most unfortunate, like Jahno, Ceron, and Micah, were forced to live on the main level in service to the Zaxson’s family. Hushar didn’t mind the cells, in fact, she preferred them to being surrounded by Nazilians.

  When they reached the end of the corridor, the guard scowled, stepping aside so they could pass.
The dark, musty room had only three small tubs for all the slaves to use. For Hushar, it was merely once each seven suns. Wosen had never been allowed access to the chamber.

  The moldy stench hung heavy in the humid air as billowing steam rose to the ceiling from the trench of heated water. Hushar examined each tub, checking which was fit for use. When she found one suitable, she grabbed a pail from the stand, filling it with water.

  “You shouldn’t carry such weight, old mum,” Wosen said, lifting the pail from her hands.

  His gait was still awkward, but he was able to complete the task. Motioning to the tub, Hushar picked up the brush and the little piece of soap. Wosen’s ragged tunic hit the floor, and he climbed into the tub.

  “Is it soothing?”

  Wosen nodded, sinking beneath the warm water. When he rose again, the large curls clung to his face.

  “What will you say to the Zaxson?” she asked.

  “I can only tell him the truth. Anything else would lead to more torture.”

  “Well, it would seem speaking either caused that for you. There was no difference.”

  “Mayhaps, but I can’t turn from it now. I only hope that my people’s fear of Nazil is great enough for them to leave the village.”

  “Leave it? Where would they go?”

  “Noraa would have them, but the Elders are wise enough not to move as one. They could spread out to the other human villages. Mayhaps the mountains could provide shelter for those like my sister until they could find a new home. Malkia looks Nazilian, and she’d have no place to go.”

  “Hold your breath,” Hushar said, pushing his head under the water, and rinsing the soap from it. “The mountains? What have you heard about those said to live there?”

  “Whatever might dwell in the mountains is preferable to dying at the Nazilians’ hands. Besides, we’ve never seen anyone when we ventured in the mountains.”

  “Mayhaps, but you couldn’t have ventured too near their borders. The Dessalonians are said to be great creatures, Wosen. They aren’t human or Nazilian, but giants of men with powers we can’t even imagine. For thousands of years, they were protectors of the Guardians. It was their duty to keep the divine beings safe.”