The Fires of Vengeance

by Evan Winter

  Tau rode beside Tsiora and Thandi. The Ayim marched behind him, and Hafsa sat in a tottering wagon with Chibuye, who couldn’t bear to be apart from her or the queen.

  Jabari, unable to manage long marches, was in the wagon as well. He was slouched down, every part of his flesh covered against the sun’s hot touch, and sitting as far from Hafsa and Chibuye as he could, likely thinking he was doing them the favor.

  Behind them, for a couple of thousand strides, the army’s soldiers, supply wagons, service Lessers, Proven, and Drudge stretched into the distance until the curve of the world swallowed them whole. The tail of the twin inyokas was hidden from sight, making it seem as if the army was a creature long enough to wrap its length around the whole world.

  It was hard for Tau to look back and see the unending line of Omehi and not remember the stories Tsiora had told of the flight of their people from their ancestral lands. More, it was difficult for his mind to properly accept that several military rages, filled with full-bloods, were in a rapid retreat, fleeing the Xiddeen, who outnumbered both Omehi armies combined.

  The scope of events in which Tau found himself embroiled made little sense to him, and each time the war council met, it was filled with facts and figures, food-supply numbers and weapons-readiness discussions. There was constant talk of the soldiers who had taken ill, the herbs and medicines they had available, and the flared tempers between Nobles and Lessers.

  Worst of all, he thought he might develop a permanent slouch from having to lean over hand-drawn maps of the valley as Hadith and Kellan and the other inkokeli moved triangles and squares over the top of the coal-marked parchment. In one instance, he watched them sweep several shapes from the map after considering the merit of one or another defensive posture, counting up the losses as if they were coins fallen from a torn purse instead of a prediction of lives lost in battle.

  It was a busy few days that left Tau with the impression that there was more to being a good champion than swinging a sword. The problem was that, for these other duties, he was ill suited and poorly prepared. Adding to his discomfort, his relationship with the queen had changed, and after a whole season spent getting to know her, he felt like they were working out how to behave around each other all over again.

  It wasn’t brave, but the tumult of emotions he felt whenever she was near made him stay away. Only, that didn’t help either. Whenever he was away, he wondered about her.

  Most recently, he’d taken to being around her as much as he could while saying next to nothing. That had gone worse than absenting himself, and the queen had begun saying less and less to him as well. It was what he thought he wanted, and yet, inexplicably, it upset him. He felt wild relief, then, when their army met up with the rage of the famed General Bisi. It was something to help take his mind off his queen.

  They first appeared as a haze on the horizon that turned into a dust storm kicked up by tens of thousands of pairs of feet. When they were several hundred strides from the head of Tsiora’s army, General Bisi’s Rage came to a halt, and every single man in their front line snapped to attention and raised the black-on-black flag of the Indlovu.

  “Good Goddess, I’m not Governor, but that looks like more soldiers than there should be in a rage,” said Themba.

  Tau, Tsiora, Thandi, Kellan, Hadith, the Ayim, and a few of Hadith’s inkokeli were lined up at the head of their army. Tau kept his eyes faced front, but he could picture how pitiful their one flag, the royal black and red, looked in comparison.

  “He has more than one rage with him,” Hadith said. “They were being overrun and Bisi took command of two others.”

  “Why would the other generals let him take charge?” asked Tau.

  “Because it’s Bisi,” Kellan said, as if that explained it.

  “Here he comes,” whispered Themba.

  A small contingent had broken from the rest of the army. There were three of them, riding horses.

  “Should we go out to meet them?” Tau asked Hadith, still avoiding talking to the queen.

  “No,” Hadith said. “He comes to us. We are with the queen.”

  “Of course,” Tau said.

  As the three men drew closer, Tau was able to make out more detail. Tau guessed that Bisi was the man riding in the middle, and at first, Tau thought that he was coming to them enraged, but as he got a better look, he realized that Bisi wasn’t enraged; he just looked it. General Bisi was the biggest Noble Tau had ever seen.

  “Oh,” said Themba, “I see why the other generals let him take charge…. ”

  Tau felt pity for the man’s horse. It had to be a struggle to carry that much weight. General Bisi was a boulder of muscle, with a jaw so broad it made his full lips look small by comparison. His nose helped balance him out. It was flat and broad and gave off the impression that it was a symbol, pointing up toward his lined forehead.

  “No wonder we have so few animals in the peninsula,” Themba muttered. “They had to kill half of them to get enough leather for that one’s armor.”

  “Hush, you,” Auset said.

  And then Bisi was with them. He and his men pulled up a respectful distance from the queen and dismounted their horses at the same time, as if the action had been choreographed in advance. As one, they dropped to a knee, heads bowed, the triad of shaven pates glistening in the hot sun.

  “Queen Tsiora,” said the general, spacing the two words evenly in a voice as deep as an earthquake’s root.

  “General Bisi, rise,” Tsiora said.

  “My queen, it has been too long since I have seen you.”

  “We were a girl.”

  “That long, then,” he said. “The front line does not know or respect the passage of seasons or cycles. In any case, this general is privileged to live long enough to be in your presence again and to see, for himself, that the rumors of your great beauty have been unable to do the truth any decency.”

  Tau was annoyed. They were here to defend their lands against Kana, not play pretty with words.

  “If I may introduce my companions?” Bisi said.

  Tsiora inclined her head, giving him permission.

  “These men are Generals Itro and Enitan. They have supported my leadership over the three military rages.”

  “Well met, generals,” Tsiora said.

  “Now, my queen, though I regret that we will not have more time with one another, I should begin the process of bringing your military leadership into my own, if we are to ready our defenses in time for the Xiddeen.”

  Tau moved his eyes to Hadith, then Tsiora.

  “General Bisi, there is a misunderstanding. We have our own grand general.”

  Bisi looked right at Kellan. “Little Okar, you’ve grown.”

  “General Bisi,” Kellan said.

  “You lead here as grand general?”

  Kellan shook his head. “I am inkokeli of the queen’s Indlovu. It is Hadith Buhari who leads us.”

  “Buhari?” asked Bisi.

  Hadith was nervous. Tau knew it. Hadith hid it well, though.

  “I am Grand General Buhari.”

  To his credit, Bisi’s face moved about as much as a slab of stone.

  “I see,” he said. “You lead this army?”

  “I do.”

  Tau realized that Bisi hadn’t so much as looked at him yet.

  “How large? I estimate it to be roughly two rages.”

  “It is almost that,” Hadith said.

  “I lead three rages and the men are accustomed to my command. As a general, would you agree that it would be faster and simpler to bring your men into my command?”

  “It will not matter if he agrees or not, General Bisi,” the queen said.

  “My queen?”

  “Hadith Buhari is our grand general, and until we excuse him from that role, his thoughts on his holding it are immaterial. General Bisi, you will hand control of your forces into Grand General Buhari’s care, and you will report to him.”

  Tau’s left hand drifted
to his hilt, and he gazed at the massive force standing at attention only a few hundred strides away. He could kill Bisi, he thought, but he could do nothing about the thousands behind him.

  Bisi dipped his head. “Your words, my destiny, Queen Tsiora. The Bisi Rage is yours to command, and now they shall be Grand General Buhari’s, until he is excused.”

  “Thank you, General. Your loyalty is a source of great comfort.”

  “We have always been loyal to the Omehi,” he said.

  “General Bisi, what do we face from the Xiddeen?” Hadith asked.

  Bisi, stone-faced, gave his report. “Per our last edification to you, Kana is half a day’s march behind us and he heads a host the equivalent size of ten to twelve rages.”

  The thought of that many fighters set against them got Tau’s heart beating faster.

  “Any idea where the rest of the Xiddeen might be?” Hadith asked.

  “Twelve rages isn’t enough for our grand general?”

  Hadith ignored that. “The concern is that the Xiddeen come at us in force but not in full force. They’ll outnumber us three to one, and though on their face, the odds favor Kana, they’re still risky odds against an army of Omehi. Where are the rest of his warriors?”

  “I’m no Sah priest, seer, or soothsayer, Grand General,” Bisi said. “My recommendation is that we face the fight we have. If we survive it, we can worry about where the rest of the savages have wandered off to.”

  “I see,” Hadith said.

  “Perhaps you don’t,” Bisi said. “These are not ocean or mountain raiders. These are Curse-blooded savages. They’re coming with their beasts of war, their best fighters, and not a one of them gives any quarter. I warn you, even their women are good enough to kill your Ihagu and Ihashe.”

  Tau thought he’d been bothered by all the meetings, the planning, and the oddness between him and the queen, but Bisi was bothering him so much more. “We’ve faced the Xiddeen before,” he said.

  Bisi’s eyes clicked over to Tau. He looked him up and down, noting the champion’s armor, before turning back to the queen. “It saddened us greatly to hear that a champion as great as Abshir Okar was gone. His like will never be replaced.”

  “I was there when he fell,” Tau said, annoyed that the general had dismissed him so easily.

  “Lucky thing he wasn’t the queen, then, if your presence affected the outcome so little.”

  That was a step too far from a man with such ephemeral loyalties, and Tau moved to dismount so that he could say as much to the general’s face.

  Hadith coughed and spoke. “Champion Solarin, you have the sharpest eyes and I would be indebted to you if you could offer them to us.”

  Tau had gotten down from Fury. “What?”

  “General Bisi tells us that Kana’s army is not far behind his own, and I’ve learned that in this section of the Central Mountains there’s a rough but usable path that leads to a lookout point. With your eyes, you could provide us with valuable information.”

  Tau knew what he was doing. Hadith was trying to stop Tau from confronting Bisi.

  “Grand General,” Tau said, “there’s just one small thing I wouldn’t mind doing here first.”

  “We’ll accompany our champion,” the queen said, causing every head in earshot to swing to her.

  “Up the mountains?” asked Bisi. “My queen, is that wise?”

  “We’ll be with Champion Solarin, and, believe us, General, there is no one living or dead with whom we’d feel safer.”

  As with Hadith, Tau knew what she was doing, but he didn’t want his friends to have to defend him. He could do it himself.

  “Shall we leave now, Champion?” Tsiora said.

  He looked from Bisi to her. He had no choice. “My queen,” he said, bowing his head.

  “Do you mind if we bring our handmaidens?” she said, smiling at him. “Do you think you could protect all three of us women?”

  Ramia was smiling too, but Auset looked like she’d swallowed a bee, and she was giving Themba a side-eye sharp enough to cut. With uncharacteristic wisdom, Themba kept his mouth shut.

  “Of course, my queen,” Tau said.

  “Good, we’ve spoken so little recently, and though war threatens, that has bothered us.”

  He clenched his jaw, trying to mimic Bisi’s stone-faced trick. He couldn’t believe she was so openly talking about them not talking.

  Tsiora gave the reins she held a slight tug, getting her horse to move toward the mountains. “Are you coming, Champion? We’re very curious to discover what secrets the lookout point has ready to reveal to us.”

  NEVER

  Their horses made it halfway to the lookout point before the path became treacherous for the animals. To keep them safe, they tied them to a tree circled by stunted grazing grass and continued on foot.

  It had already been an entire span and Tau and Tsiora hadn’t said a single word to each other. To avoid adding to the awkwardness, Tau kept his eyes on their surroundings.

  The Central Mountains, or at least this part of them, were much greener than the mountains of his home. The grass grew taller and greener and the trees and bushes were healthier too. It was pretty.

  “What did you say?” the queen asked.

  “My queen?”

  “You said something was pretty.”

  “Oh, the mountains, my queen.”

  “The mountains?” She looked at him like he’d stepped in Fury’s droppings.

  Tau checked for Auset and Ramia, hoping for a distraction, any distraction, but they’d let themselves fall behind and were out of earshot.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked him.

  “My queen?”

  “Why are you doing this, Tau?”

  He didn’t have a good answer for her.

  She stopped walking and he had to as well. “So much hangs in the balance and nothing as small as this should matter.” She waved a hand at herself and at him when she said it. “Yet, it feels like it does. We wish we could stop it from feeling so, but we’re not sure we can, and that’s … unsettling.” She was breathless when she finished.

  Tau forced himself to admit it out loud. “I feel the same,” he said.

  “Then … then, why not say so?”

  “Because it feels like a betrayal,” he said, thinking of Zuri.

  “A betrayal …”

  It made him feel impossibly small to see her hurt. It made him feel as if everything the Nobles had ever called men like him was true.

  “I’m sorry, Tau,” his queen said. “I’m asking too much.”

  “No … I just don’t know if I can …” He tried to work through the knot inside him, hoping to unravel even a little of it. “I can’t survive losing you, and there’s not much left in the world that scares me like the thought of that does.”

  He saw Tsiora’s eyes grow wide when he said it, but the time for talking was done. Auset walked into view, Ramia behind her, dragging her feet.

  “I can’t walk any slower,” Auset said to them. “I really can’t.” She looked at Tsiora’s and Tau’s faces, shook her head, and called back to Ramia. “They’re not done.”

  “I told you,” Ramia said, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

  The four of them stood in silence.

  “Well, if no one is talking, can we finish the climb to the lookout point?” Auset asked. “The path is right there.”

  Tsiora was staring at Tau, and he didn’t know how to read the many things he could see in her eyes.

  “Champion?” Auset said.

  “Of course,” he said. He needed time to deal with the thing he’d just told Tsiora. He needed time to think. “Can you stay with the queen? I’ll climb the rest of the way up.”

  “Mm-hmm,” said Auset, running a thin twig under one of her nails.

  Tau bowed to Tsiora, who hadn’t said a word since he’d said what he’d said to her, and feeling her eyes boring into his back as he left, he trudged up the rest of the path.

>   The way quickly became steep, and the last few strides to the lookout point were a proper climb, requiring his attention.

  “This better be worth it, Hadith,” Tau said as he finally stepped out onto the ledge of the lookout point.

  The view stole his breath and sense. Tau had grown up in high places, but what he saw from the lookout point in the Central Mountains was a wholly new beauty. It wasn’t the power of the Roar or the endless stretch of beach winding its way up the coast, but from where he was that day, he could look back and see the topmost tips of Palm City’s towers, while above him, the Central Mountains soared up and into the clouds. Looking straight ahead, he could see all the way to the Northern Mountain Range, the flatlands before him giving way to rolling hills of green and yellow, and there, dividing the Central Province from the North, was the Amanzi Amancinci River, its waters sparkling like they were the sky-blue scales of some infinitely long inyoka.

  He breathed deep, tasting the cool mountain air and marveling at the land that was his home, the land that was all of their homes, if they could keep it.

  Sobered by the thought, Tau looked down at the valley below him and immediately agreed with the decision to fight there. It was the ultimate battleground for a smaller army that needed to stop a larger one.

  The north side of the valley rose rapidly, making the ground there difficult to traverse and near impossible to fight on. Similarly, the south edge of the valley ran right up to the mountains, and given the natural barriers to the north and south, there were just two reasonable ways to move soldiers into the valley.

  An army could come in from the west, as his army had done, or they could come in from the east, as Bisi’s Rage had done and as Kana’s Xiddeen were about to do. And once in the valley, the army wishing to push forward would need to do so through the rocky choke point at the valley’s middle. It was, Tau noted, a natural killing field.