War of the Sultans

by Fuad Baloch

  Shoki looked at Nuraya. “You freed the commoners to pursue their dreams, giving them a voice.” He raised his hand. “I choose to do the same with the magi, hoping, praying that they would turn into useful allies against the invaders.”

  “No!” shouted Inquisitor Aboor.

  “Shoki!” warned Nuraya, raising her hand.

  Shoki loosened his grip.

  The phial fell on the hard surface, shattered, its contents spilling into the thirsty earth.

  “Boy, what have you done?” snarled Inquisitor Zeb.

  “Go,” said Shoki, not waiting to see if Nuraya agreed, all fight draining from his limbs. “On my honor, depart here with your lives. And return only when you’re committed to discussing true terms for peace.”

  Inquisitor Aboor glared at Shoki. “I warned you to not trust these abominations. And yet, you ended up making the wrong choice. You’ve doomed us all.”

  Without another word, both inquisitors turned around and stormed out of the tent.

  Chapter 33

  Nuraya

  Clenching her fingers, Nuraya marched toward Shoki. Sensing her approach, he turned around, his lone eye widening in surprise.

  She raised a hand. “How dare you undermine me like this?” Gathering all her strength, she slapped him. The air rang with the sound of flesh smacking against flesh. She winced but refused to cradle her hand at the pain erupting in her palm.

  Shoki stuttered back, his own hand rising to caress his cheek.

  “These are matters of my people, involving my realm,” she said through gritted teeth. “Not even you have the right to interfere without my explicit permission.”

  She stepped forward, dimly aware of Camsh shouting at her to show restraint. She raised her hand once more and slapped him again.

  Shoki caught her wrist.

  Rage blasted through her. “Release my hand, city guard!”

  “Nuraya, we—”

  “Do not forget your place,” she growled, struggling to wrest her hand free. He might not have been stronger than most men his own age, but his height did give him the advantage of leverage. He held on to her hand, not moving away, his eye looking straight at her.

  “We have to prepare for what’s to come,” he said. “This war… is bigger than everything.”

  She snarled as he finally released her hand. “You had no right to do what you did here!”

  For a long breath, Shoki didn’t say anything, standing still as a statue. Then, he dropped his gaze toward the bits of the phial scattered on the ground. “I’ve made my decision.”

  “You’ve made your decision?” she scoffed.

  “Shoki, do you realize you’ve doomed all hopes for a peaceful resolution,” said Camsh behind her.

  “There never was any hope of that,” Shoki said, running his fingers through his long hair. “The inquisitors weren’t going to see reason. I was wrong in assuming otherwise.”

  “You are no one to make that call!” she said.

  Shoki inclined his chin, then turned his head toward Maharis. “Who else, then?”

  Nuraya bristled at the latent challenge in his words. He stood in her tent, surrounded by accouterments of her power—limited as they were—and still had the temerity to challenge her suitability to deal with challenges facing her realm.

  “Nuraya,” he said, his words soft, “the world that you and I knew is gone, replaced by one with forces much darker and more malevolent than any we’ve ever faced. It’s more than nations fighting each other. It’s us against the djinn… and the pari folk. We can’t ignore that. Don’t you see it?”

  The djinn! The pari folk! Smears intent on blotting all that made sense to her, distracting her from what needed doing. Matters that could wait. Had to wait.

  She stepped forward, her eyes narrowing, blood boiling in her veins. He didn’t flinch, didn’t back away, standing his ground. This was the crossroads she had been expecting and dreading. Cast her lot with Shoki, and whatever mess he had made of things, or keep her focus razor-sharp toward fending off enemies she could see and kill.

  Nuraya raised her forefinger at him. “There is no we! I should have banished you a long time ago, but it’s never too late to do the right thing.” She took in a long breath, then fixed her steady gaze on him. “Leave my company immediately, and never present yourself in front of me again!”

  “My sultana,” wailed Camsh. “We—”

  “Silence! I will not be distracted from saving my realm, not even if they were Rabb’s demons!”

  Shoki shook his head sadly, then stepped forward. She braced herself. He was close, so close that she could feel the warmth of his body. Close enough to be inappropriate, especially in front of her councilors who remained silent for the moment. She forced herself to remain still, ignoring the voice in her heart that was shouting at her to take back her words. Was he right? More and more, she had been thinking of herself surrounded by the perpetual mist that covered these northern valleys at dawn, hiding the actual world that lay beyond, reducing her visibility to little more than her hand.

  “Nuraya, I want peace just as much as you do.” He paused. “No matter the cost.” Another long breath. “Sometimes, one must make war to obtain peace. Destroy divisions that hinder harmony.” He raised his eyebrows as if surprised by his own words. “The inquisitors are moved by a rigidity that allows no flexibility. Their ranks are filled by men like Altamish Aboor, who might call themselves honorable,” he pointed at his eye patch, then at the shattered phial, “but then break all norms to snatch what they want.”

  She scoffed. “And the magi, people like you are any better?”

  He sniffled. “No, we’re not. But, the magi as a group are facing extinction against an increasingly desperate Kalb.” His mouth twitched. “And nothing forges alliances quite like the mutual need for protection.”

  Boots shuffled behind her. Ranal was blabbering in his native tongue, the words gibberish to her. Camsh said something, more words she paid no mind to. Instead, she stood tall, her eyes watching Shoki. He was so naive, so enamored with the idea of his people’s plight to see no good would come out of the path he was choosing. The magi and the inquisitors were two sides of the same coin, both short-sighted and blind to anything else beyond themselves. At least, the Kalb inquisitors could be predicted, were ruled by impulses she could quantify, and control. The magi… were a different proposition entirely.

  And the source of all her troubles.

  Shoki cleared his throat, one hand dabbing at his forehead, still standing dangerously close to her. “Now’s the opportunity to show the Kalb Inquisition that their rebellious ways are no longer acceptable. That they have to cease their attacks against the magi. They’ve had multiple opportunities to strike peace, and yet they continue to act in bad faith.”

  Jinan stepped forward. “Magus, the sultana banished you from her company. Leave, before I remove your head from this puny body of yours!”

  Camsh placed a hand on Jinan’s arm. “Siphsalar, we—”

  “Son of Ghiani, step back!” growled Jinan.

  “Nuraya,” continued Shoki, still not turning away. “We have to prevail over the inquisitors, but we do not have to destroy them. A key difference. Once we’ve brought them to heel, the inquisitors and the magi can help us beat back the invaders, and… help us prepare for the real fight that’s simmering!”

  Nuraya blinked. Surprising to see he too had been having the same doubts about shadows moving behind shadows. Did he too fear the veil of irrelevance that had been dropping over her?

  “Magus!” warned Jinan, freeing his hand from Camsh’s grip, and moving it to the hilt of his sword. Shoki continued to look at her. Growling, Jinan stepped forward and gave Shoki a violent push. Yelping, Shoki stuttered back, managing to right his balance at the last instant.

  The one-eyed magus raised his hand toward her, still not looking her siphsalar’s way. “We have to force unity if we are to survive what’s to come. The inquisitors and the magi
. Husalmin, Atishi, and followers of Fanna. Istani, Reratish, and Zakhanan. Can’t you see what I did was the right thing for the realm?”

  Nuraya’s patience ran out. She stepped forward and thrust her finger at his bony chest. “Can you really not see the harm you’ve caused? You’re vowing to destroy the only organized institution with the power to contain the magi! What assurance does any of us have that once these magi break free, they would once again subject themselves to the person occupying the Peacock Throne?” Her finger shook. “And, if you’re really calling for the magi, what of your precious Divide that you killed my mother for?”

  “You have our word,” came a voice from her right. A strong, assured voice. The voice of the magus she had once fled Algaria with. His shoulders squared, Maharis strode into view. Gone was the limp, the feeble drawl. Now, he looked a young, virile man of no more than twenty-five, imbued with the quiet confidence of a man who knew his physical prowess. “I no longer fear the inquisitors.” He pointed at the shattered phial. “No reason to do that anymore. Yet, I am willing to pursue peace with them.”

  Nuraya blinked, caught off-guard by the magus’s transformation.

  Jinan scoffed, then drew out his sword, turning toward Maharis. “You’ve dodged your just punishment for far too long. Now that you’ve gone feral, you need to be fed to the dogs.”

  “Siphsalar, step back,” shouted Camsh, sidling in between the magus and the naked sword. “Don’t do anything without thinking through the consequences.”

  “Camel’s shit on the consequences,” Jinan growled. “Son of Ghiani, do not overstep your bounds. I am the siphsalar of this army. It is my responsibility to decide who lives and who dies.”

  “No, it’s not,” said Nuraya, her voice beginning to quiver, feeling her center give out. She shook her head, memories floating of the first time she had met the mercenary salar. He had been handsome, almost resplendent in his bright turban, accompanied by Rurik, his chirpy lieutenant. He’d had swagger, an exuberance that could sweep up anyone. He’d connected with Mona. Though neither of them had sought Nuraya’s blessing, a part of her had been glad for them both. Nuraya exhaled, recognizing what she needed to do, and realizing for the first time that the day she had lost Mona was the day she had lost Jinan as well.

  “What do you mean?” asked Jinan, his eyes widening.

  “From now, Camsh will assume the responsibility befitting the siphsalar of my army.”

  Ranal cleared his throat behind her. “But… the man doesn’t even have the strength to wield a sword for long!” He raised a hand toward Camsh. “No offense!”

  Camsh nodded. “Sahib Ranal Poolani is right. I’m hardly the—”

  Nuraya glared, and the men fell silent. “Too many times I’ve not made decisions when they needed to be made. I don’t have the luxury anymore, not when… what we face is so unconventional.”

  Shoki’s eyes pleaded with her. “Nuraya, help me defeat the inquisitors and together, all of us, we’ll fight this war that needs to be fought, and afterwards, prepare for the one that awaits.”

  Fighting back the treasonous mist gathering in her eyes, Nuraya turned her back to the men. The world continued to change faster than her ability to both keep up with it and reevaluate her place within it. Every time she’d thought she was making progress, making things right, kismet had railed against her. Every miserable time she’d tried placing her confidence in those around her, she had been let down.

  Then again, such was the life of the ruler of Istan. Something Abba would have had to live through as well. Atop the peak, there was no room for company. She would do what she could—push back the Reratish—and if others wanted to worry about other matters that ought to wait, they were welcome to it.

  “Nuraya!” pleaded Shoki once more.

  She ought to have turned around and slapped him for taking her name in his cavalier manner. Regardless of the fact that her heart continued to pine for him, or her suspicions about his descent, she was the realm’s sultana, the sun that brooked no attempts at dulling its brilliance. She would set like all suns did, but she would do so on her own terms.

  She didn’t turn around immediately, for she knew when she did, that would be the last time she’d get to see him. Something she wanted to prepare herself for.

  Voices floated in from the outside. Soft, feminine voices followed by a giggle. An old man grumbled loudly, his tired feet shuffling outside her tent. Commoners transformed into warriors. The world had changed, but hadn't she too done her bit to change it?

  She had been approaching it all wrong. Trying to boil the ocean instead of chipping at the mountain a stone at a time. Sure, the course of events had changed to make her less important than she had been, but she could still control aspects where she still had influence. A bird carrying a drop of water to her burning nest still accomplished more than when she tried to put out a forest fire. Yes, she would do, only what she could.

  “My sultana,” said Maharis. “I will convince my brethren to do all they can to serve the realm. And Kalb or no, we, the magi, shall remain your loyal subjects.”

  Ranal forced a chuckle that sounded very much like a strained gasp. “A magus promising on behalf of others. Why doesn’t it fill me with confidence?”

  Nuraya took in a long breath, then turned around. Except for Jinan watching his shadows dancing under the torchlight, the other men met her eyes. “I have responsibilities, far too many to carry out all at once. Right now, I don’t have the time to waste sorting issues between the magi and the inquisitors. Or worrying about whatever shadows lurk in the background. My path lies ahead. Algaria is captured. Istan is in ruins. I need Ahasan so we can fight both the Reratish and Zakhanan.”

  Shoki rubbed his hands. “Let us help you. All of us together!”

  “No,” she said, her voice firm. “Abba didn’t hold this realm together on the basis of magi that he commanded. Nor did my forebears conquer this land in the first instance by using jadu. If I am to establish myself as the legitimate ruler of Istan, I have to beat the Reratish and Zakhanan forces on my terms. Through my wit and strength and,” she looked Shoki in the eye, “without relying on your kind.”

  For a long moment, Shoki stood still, disbelieving, shaking his head.

  Nuraya forced her face to betray no emotion. She was the Sultana of Istan, immovable, inviolable, one who belonged to all and none. “Magus, as I said before, you’re banished from my court. Leave and never show me your face again.”

  Then, before the tears could break free, Nuraya turned around, squeezing her eyes shut. The first tear broke lose just as she heard the shuffle of Shoki’s boots as he turned, and marched away.

  Chapter 34

  Shoki

  “Don’t look back,” suggested Maharis. “Just keep moving.”

  Shoki nodded, casting another glance over his shoulder. Already, the tents and the flags were getting obscured by the dense trees. Another three hundred or so yards and the forest would swallow any evidence of Nuraya’s army.

  He ground his teeth, still surprised by the numbers that had turned out in droves to march beside her. She had entered the city with a dozen men, hoping to find the five hundred stragglers, and had instead ended up marching with a much greater horde—numbers-wise anyway.

  His heart ached, recalling the way she had looked at him. For someone who’d had no issues expressing her emotions, when she had ordered him to leave her company, her face had been devoid of any feeling. A blank canvas. An unstrung lute.

  Swallowing, Shoki turned around. For better or worse, he had picked a side and had ended up forcing Nuraya to pick one too. As kismet would have it, they had ended up on opposite sides. Not strictly antagonistic for the moment, but still going down paths that would neither converge nor run parallel.

  “I’ve got a surprise for you,” said Maharis. “One that will not fail to cheer you.”

  Shoki nodded, then exhaled noisily.

  “The castle is well-protected,” the magus said.
“Not even a postern gate to minimize weak points. The gates are barricaded, and the guard towers have kill-spots for the archers.” He chuckled. “Not that we’d ever need to enter like marauding peasants of course, but it appears whoever constructed the cursed place catered for the possibility of a siege as well.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Over here,” said Maharis, leading him west toward a copse of trees in the distance. “Another three or four miles.”

  Shoki followed the magus silently. Maharis continued talking about the defenses setup at the castle and how the inquisitors had chosen a good place to face them, even as Shoki continued to brood, fearing the consequences of his actions.

  “Why can’t you directly attack the castle?” Shoki asked after the magus had gone on for a while. “Sure, you may not be able to explicitly attack an inquisitor, but can’t you tear down these walls like any others?”

  Maharis shook his head. “It’s not just the inquisitors themselves that elude our powers, but entities associated with them too. A connection we don’t really understand but remain wary of.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “There was this magus who went rogue two decades ago. He eluded the inquisitors for a good four or five years. Finally, one of them located his residue and started tracking him. Panicked, the magus decided to rush to Lawan, the city where the inquisitor’s family lived. Once there, he entered the inquisitor’s home with the aim to kidnap his father.

  “He was a Zyadi magus, like most of us are of course, with an affinity to some base metal I never found out. Anyway, he entered the inquisitor’s house, and tried using his powers over the inquisitor’s father.” Maharis shivered. “His connection to his well slipped, and he fainted. When he woke up, two inquisitors stood over him, his blood phial in their hands. They severed him, cut him off from his well…”

  Shoki licked his lips, ducking underneath a heavy branch. “What happened to him?”