It was the third day of the trek northeast. The journey would take K'rar and his friendly captors three more days minus today to arrive at the coast. For most of the journey so far they had not crossed any towns or cities. Large portions of central Korazin were just barren terrains with very scattered communities of less than a hundred people. Today, the procession was approaching Mahideen, one of the oldest cities near the eastern coast of Korazin, and Garrera intentionally wanted to go through it to confirm to its residents what they had only heard but not confirmed with their own eyes. K'rar's carriage had stayed right next to Garrera's own, as he had promised, and he had two native soldiers either side of him at all times, watching him like a hawk. For all the three days they had been too ashamed of him to speak, and he had opened fire on them for this unforgivable act of treason. For example he had spent a good three hours today, yelling at them about how they had invited occupation forces into their homes.
General Kaputska and a small number of his soldiers had traveled with this procession at that man's insistence. Kaputska had been surprised, no, shocked, that Garrera had spared the boy's life. And he knew that as long as the boy was breathing, the larger fulfilment of the plans being formulated within the walls of the Tyrne Palace hundreds of miles away would be severely jeopardized. It was either total extermination or nothing. K'rar by himself could incite hundreds of thousands to harbor some hope, and that hope would in turn the tables on the grander plans of the Goldorans, in spite of the massive successes they had registered so far. Kaputska knew that if the curiously magnanimous Garrera was not going to kill the boy, then he would have to throw down the ranks—all Goldoran soldiers on this mission had been put by royal edict under Garrera's command—and do it himself. As long as Garrera's behavior and actions would in the long run undermine the ulterior Goldoran plan, Kaputska was authorized to put his country's interests ahead of his own. No, not authorized, but entitled by his own version of patriotism for the Goldoran fatherland. Ruko, his deputy, had confronted Garrera on two occasions on this trip about this delicate matter, and he had only got the answer that K'rar was needed as living proof of the new rule that all of Korazin was under. Once he had completed the process of advertising the new era, then K'rar would be executed. But Kaputska was getting increasingly skeptical about it. In his carriage with Ruko, four paces behind that of the boy, he was constantly drooling and frowning at himself.
'Do you know what he was saying to the boy back at Magherita?' he asked, referring to the little chat Garrera had had with the boy before the whole city. Ruko had been present at the scene but not Kaputska.
'No idea. To be honest I thought it looked more of a reunion.'
'The boy should be dead by now. I strongly believe there's a plan to spare his life.'
'He said he would kill him…'
'That's what he said, yes. We need him to do it.'
'If anyone wants the boy dead it should be him.'
'No. He wants the boy out of the way, but not dead, not necessarily. If he's planning on keeping him confined somewhere under imprisonment for all his life, then it's still a problem and I think that's what is going on.'
'Come to think of it,' Ruko said after a contemplative pause, 'why did he bring him this way, why not advertise his defeat in the capital?'
The two men stared at one another. They had struck gold.
'He's not planning on finishing him,' said Kaputska, 'he wants to take him to one of the islands off the coast.'
'He's being merciful, suddenly. We can't let his nationalism prevail, can we, sir?'
'We cannot. If the boy stays alive, he will definitely be a problem in the future.'
'Well, sir. Luckily, we tagged along on this trip,' said Ruko, looking at his boss.
When the procession came to within three miles of Mahideen, Garrera commanded reconnoiter ahead of them to get the city prepped for a grand entrance. Kaputska was right on time to hear that instruction being given, and he immediately asked to ride along with the scout. When asked why, he gave the asinine reason he had already rehearsed. That he was tired of sitting in the carriage and wanted to race the scout on horseback. That's why Ruko pitched in, as well as two other guys in Kaputska's command, under the guise of enjoying the thrill of a horserace. Garrera saw no reason to deny this, so he let them. Kaputska's ruse was intended to find out if Mahideen had a Goldoran centurion or garrison in charge of it, and he couldn't risk asking Garrera for that intelligence. Several cities still had no Goldoran presence, especially those in remote areas and insignificant zones. Kaputska was hoping on being lucky enough to find at least a small barracks of Goldoran occupation soldiers—he knew that's what they really were—so he could prepare them for his plan to assassinate K'rar. A native barracks would not be ideal, and Kaputska would have to do the job himself.
As Garrera had wanted, by the time they came to within sight of the city, a large crowd had converged to watch their approach down the hill. Garrera was travelling with a pretty large party of more than 500 people on foot, wagons, horses and carriages. It looked just like his march into Chaldea with hostile Goldoran troops. He was proud of that particular moment and couldn't wait to relive the moment, and this time with the finishing touch of having K'rar with him. Mahideen would have to get used to the fact that he was king faster than Chaldea had, if the Goldoran troops stationed there weren't enough.
Mahideen was not a fortified city, but its previous administrators had had a thing for making it look like one, by raising two towers, one on either side of the main road to create an entrance. The country's northernmost city of Cockroach had inspired this trend, but its district, Amasa, made a lot more money than Mahideen's district Jattara, so Cockroach was nearing completion of its high walls before Amasa had any plans of extending theirs beyond the sorry show of the towers. When the caravan made the last descent on the road, Garrera had his carriage stop, hence the stoppage of the rest of the procession. Lankh jumped out of the carriage and whisked himself to K'rar's carriage, where he yelled at K'rar to get out.
'Horses,' he said to his assigned guards, 'get two horses.' One of the men retrieved horses from a couple of soldiers and had them brought to Lankh, who then bellowed to K'rar to get on one of them.
'What is this?' K'rar had the courage to ask. Lankh was in no mood for small talk, so he simply raised an eyebrow at the boy and gestured to get on the horse. Ahead of them Garrera was already sitting on his white stallion, and K'rar was dragged there on the horse. Aside from a handful of guards in front of Garrera and another handful behind him, Garrera, Lankh, and K'rar's horses took the head of the procession.
'Wait,' said Garrera, looking down at the nearest guard, 'bind his hands.' So they bound his hands, and handed his horse's reins to Lankh, who would tug on them to lead the horse. It was a victory march, but K'rar couldn't care less. Things were out of his hands now, and one more march of humiliation wouldn't make his situation worse. Still, K'rar prepared himself to keep his face down to avoid any eye contact from the residents of the city. He knew that the only people who would be emitting half a smile were the Goldorans. His subjects were still his subjects as long as they knew he was alive, and he knew that. Garrera began his march with a shout and a triumphant cheer, making sure to look K'rar in the face. K'rar said to him,
'Are you happy that you've defeated a boy 36 years your junior?'
'Technically you gave yourself up. Now keep your mouth shut or I will gag you.'
When they came to within a few meters of the entrance through the towers, two horses, ridden by Kaputska and the head of the Goldoran centurion in charge of keeping the peace of the city, came speeding through toward them.
'General,' said Kaputska, breathing heavily, 'you cannot go into this city like that, you have to remain concealed in the safety of the carriage.'
'He can go into the city in any manner that he chooses,' Lankh scoffed.
'This city is more royalist than the capital,' said the centurion, a large, stout man who looked like a stuffed doll in his armor, 'we've been dealing with hostiles for weeks on end now. The rebels here will not shut down. Bringing their king in like this might encourage them to try something.'
'Are you saying they will attempt to rescue him?' Garrera laughed mockingly, 'you can't possibly be serious.'
'No, General. I am saying they might try to take you out. You're a traitor within these walls, and all that's needed is one good marksman hiding on a rooftop or in a window. Tell you what, the rebels here have got what it takes.'
'And I've got their beloved king tethered like an animal. Lankh, anything happens to me, kill the boy immediately.'
'Due respect General, the boy's as good as dead,' said Kaputska, 'these rebels know that. All they want is to prove a point that you're not wanted, and if they get a shot at you, even with no injury, they show your vulnerability.'
'Sir,' the centurion said, 'you should get in the carriage, but you can still parade the boy.'
'He's right, sir. We can't risk even a bad report,' said Lankh.
'Fuck this,' Garrera was genuinely pissed, but he conceded and jumped off the horse. As he walked past the boy's horse, he looked up and said to him, 'you see how much trouble you cause even without an army. You should be grateful your family and I were friends.'
'Be gone, you traitor,' K'rar said off the cuff, 'how dare you allege friendship with my family?'
Garrera was not pleased with the reply, but he walked off without incident, and the convoy resumed its grand entrance. Lankh had the security at the front doubled, so that a large mass of soldiers flooded into the city first. Mahideen was a small but dense city, so its buildings were close to each other with only a few having good distance apart, as well as the roads. The denizens were standing all along the roads and paths, and many were watching from the windows and roofs. K'rar kept his face down, but he couldn't stop thinking about Kaputska's theatrics moments ago. The Goldorans had a vested interest in his death, but somehow his life seemed of great importance to a couple of them all of a sudden. When he tried to locate Kaputska in the file of soldiers ahead of him, he spotted him, but not his companion. K'rar still couldn't connect the dots, until it also occurred to him that the century of soldiers in the centurion's command, who should have been stationed among the crowds, were less than about twenty.
'Something's doesn't add up. Something's wrong,' he said loudly to Lankh, who was riding just an arm's distance in front. The man just affected a quick glance and a frown, and then tugged at the ropes binding K'rar to add effect to his humiliation. Several shouts from the people confirmed Kaputska's assessment of the feelings they had toward Garrera, because more than enough people kept shouting at K'rar that he was still their king. The procession was just pulling into a particularly crowded section when a projectile flew out of that crowd and struck Garrera's carriage. Hatto's soldiers acted on impulse to catch the perpetrator, but it was as though they'd triggered a domino effect, because the crowd suddenly became restless. One reckless punk hurled himself onto the road yelling "long live the king!" and hurled another object at Hatto's men, clearly demonstrating that the king he meant was the one who was tied up. The soldiers swiftly subdued him, but not before hundreds of other participants turned the place into a boiling pot. Lankh acted quickly to jump off his horse to run to his master's aid just as Kaputska yelled to anyone within his earshot,
'There, into the alley!'
Before he knew it K'rar had been yanked off a horse like a bag of beans and surrounded by more than the comfortable number of metal breastplates. He could just make out the structure of the centurion at the mouth of a sloping alley between two rows of storied buildings. And that's when K'rar connected the dots. They had created this. The Goldorans had created this chaos, this opportunity, to slit his throat when everyone was busy trying to preserve their own life. And although three days ago he had thrown in the towel and presented himself as a naked offering to the traitors to be killed, now he was fully wired to preserve himself as best he could. Once he was into the alley, he was about to try and force his way through the soldiers and run into the crowd for refuge, when one of the men surrounding him said,
'They are trying to kill you, Your Majesty, but I have a plan to extract you.'
'What?' K'rar wanted confirmation because the man who had said those words was Goldoran and had used the words "Your Majesty."
'I will explain later, sir, but we need to go now, these men are murderous and they're not squeamish about it.'
'Speaking of which,' said another man. Garrera had just ordered a forceful neutralization of the chaos, and all the men in uniform and armor had just turned into raging bulls. K'rar managed to get a glimpse of someone being slashed across the torso with a blade, before one of his new friends said Kaputska was distracted and frisked him away from the alley and onto a wall.
'Have to get to the other side of the building, sir. Horses will be waiting there. Tymian, stay behind with the Goldorans as our eyes.'
'With the Goldorans?' said K'rar. He had clear sight of the action now that he wasn't being cushioned, and K'rar made out the man called Ruko looking this way and that, obviously for him.
'The riot will clear up soon and we need to be on our way.'
They managed to get to the other side, but not before the Goldorans trying to kill him made him out, and yelled his position.
'I've been spotted!' he yelled, and saw Kaputska updating Lankh about the fact that he was escaping.
'Get on the horses, now!' that was a woman's voice, and K'rar turned to spot her in the most unfeminine garb. Armor, a ponytail and hard leather boots. It wasn't the first time he was being asked to get on a horse, but this time he was very eager to do so, because the Goldorans and Garrera had just abandoned the riot completely.
'Ah, they've made us earlier than I hoped,' said the awesome lady just before she began leading the two horsemen at full pelt, 'they'll take time to organize themselves, so if we can make it wo the east exit on time we'll slip them!'
'Aren't there others along the way?' K'rar asked loudly against the din of the fleeing residents.
'No, Your Majesty. They all came to this end for the arrival,' explained the man.
'Where are we going?'
'Need to get out of here first!' said the lady in a matter-of-fact tone. Behind them the chasing pack had managed to get themselves on at least fifteen horses, knocking things out of the way. The road they were scaling meandered to the right a bit, and was clearer after that, into a quieter section of the city, a street of residential structures. They had at least a 5 minute head start, and could snake back toward the east end before the chasing pack made the first curve. K'rar's equestrian skills weren't bad at all, and he kept up with what he thought was a fantastic couple of people.
'Anyone want to explain what the heck is not happening?'
'We're from the Province,' said the lady, whose ride was closer to his. The "Province" in the context she had used it would mean the Moon Province to anyone in Moab, not national geographic demarcations. The lady went on, 'we were friends of Ashdud's, and we work for King Elkaan. Ashdud gave us wake up call. Sent us a letter reminding us that Korazin was the only thing standing between us and another conflict with the Goldorans.'
'Yeah, so your death was extremely unwelcome, as much for your country as ours. He also told us you were quickly starting to waver, and that it wasn't impossible for you to hand yourself in. He told us you needed to get out of the country, and told us the plan.'
'What plan?'
'Yeah, we figured he hadn't told you any of this yet. It involved you sneaking out of your own camp and head this way with just a few of your men. That way Garrera would never suspect a thing. Apparently things got out of hand and Garrera was at your doorstep quicker than we hoped. We thought it was all over when you handed yourself in, but then we got a stroke of luck that you were coming this direction, alive.'
K'rar remained silent for more than a moment. He had several questions.
'Then how did you get in Goldoran uniform and infiltrate their camp?'
'Ashdud also explained to us in detail your exploits out there. This was your idea, technically.' said the lady, and K'rar knew she was serious, because this was directly out of his playbook. Shona had also used it to reach him in the Debasian Mountain. He always emphasized the drawbacks of relying on numbers for strength and the benefits of invasion tactics involving just a few men for an efficient, swift and undetected attack. K'rar had more testimony than anyone that it worked.
'Still can't imagine soldiers climbing trees in the dead of night,' said the man, 'I see why we can't let you give up. This whole continent needs you, young lord.'
'While it was impossible to get you to Shona from the border, it is possible to get you there by sea,' said the lady, 'with you in Shona, we will have some peaceful nights knowing that it increases the chances of reclaiming your throne and saving us all from whatever sinister scheme is being tabled.'
'In fact, given the colorful relationship between Shona and your dynasty, and your astuteness, you might even prevent it by just being present in Shona and influencing some things there. The king wanted you to know that we are relying very heavily on you. You're a famous figure back in our palace.'
K'rar smiled to himself. Ashdud had advertised him inadvertently. But more importantly he had spoken posthumously to him, a full lecture against the idea to give up, given the stakes involved. Three nations were seriously hoping against hope that no harm would come to him.
'I have to say, I am certainly encouraged by this. If I get to Shona, I would definitely appreciate it.'
'Once we get to safety, sir,' said the lady, 'we will be under your command.'
'Okay. First, you forgot to introduce yourselves.'
'Oh, how uncouth. I am Rubio. And he's Corporal Alain.'
'You didn't rank yourself.'
'Well, women can't be soldiers, so even though I have military training I am not a commissioned soldier and thus do not have a rank.'
'Nonsense. You were sent here for this daring mission, with men under your command. You are a soldier.'
The ensuing conversation couldn't continue because Lankh and his men were getting closer to them, and the east exit was still about twenty minutes away. K'rar turned on his gear, and yelled,
'We have to become invisible, get off the road! There, those houses are less closely packed.'
'I'll be the bell, sir!' yelled Alain, and he swerved into a corridor, yelling all sorts of things to get people out of the way. There wouldn't be many people, luckily, as a massive chunk of the residents had all gone away to see the arrival of the two kings of Korazin. K'rar knew that the pursuers would take very long to discover the ruse, and that they would think he was actually trying to hide in the residential section. He was right. When they rode back onto the main road, the pursuers were nowhere on the road, obviously having detoured into the houses too, and began violently frisking people and their houses.
'I'll be damned,' said Alain.
'Stop by the last bunch of houses you see. It should be that one on the slope.'
'What are you thinking?'
'Stopping the chasing pack for good. If they're onto us when you get there, though, you should not stop.'
'We can't see their approach from under the slope.'
'You stay here on the ridge, corporal. If you see them coming, just race your horse down, we'll know.'
K'rar didn't need to use his royalty to collect more than the required number of people, most of them women, and tell them to block the road. He just bungled into the best looking homestead and found more than three busy bodies there, as well as some children. They were filling their stores with wheat from the fields just behind the houses.
'Whose residence is this?' was what he yelled when he rode his horse unannounced into the compound. Everyone was bewildered by not only the fact that he had welcomed himself into the compound and was smug about it, but also by the fact that he was a mere boy. K'rar heightened his voice to broadcast the urgency of his visit, before a man marched outside from the interior,
'What is this? What's going on?'
'Oh, good day, sir.'
'Good day to you too, son. Now what the heck do you think you're playing at?'
'Father,' another young man appeared from inside, 'goodness, father. He's K'rar von Caspar, the king!'
The entire household was suddenly spooked, and all stopped what they were doing to bend their knees, just when Rubio made an appearance, having hung back by the road before.
'They've caught on, sir. Alain is descending the slope.'
'I need your help, friends,' K'rar still had to try, 'I am being pursued by Goldoran invaders, and I need as many people as possible to block their progress on the road.'
'Of course, Your Majesty,' the son stood up quickly, 'of course. Come on, everyone! Come on, let's go! We ain't got all day! Hey, you timid bones, get out here now, the king requests your help!'
That was more than K'rar could have wanted, so he and Rubio resumed their escape.
Garrera was apoplectic. He had stopped at the local constabulary, and there he received a messenger, one of the chasers, with the news that the boy had given them the slip. His men, including Hatto, had to vacate an office for him to vent out his terrifying fury by overturning the tables and tearing paper.
'I'm certainly going to kill him now! I'll kill that slippery boy!'
'My lord,' Hatto tried to chime in with a suggestion, 'they went east, so they're most likely headed for the coast. We will send a pigeon ahead to the administrator there. That would be Lord Croe.'
'Lock down the ports. No ship leaves that port,' yelled Garrera, referring to port Praesof, the nearest and only port for miles on the coast, in the city of the same name, 'I have a feeling they would want to ship him to Shona, and we cannot have that. And raid this place. I want to fish out those rebels once and for all, even if it means flogging the whole town.'
Kaputska, who was present, turned and smiled at his deputy at that command. Things could have been much worse for them. No, things were at the worst. Their elaborate plan to incite chaos and murder the boy because of it had backfired so terribly that it had actually helped the boy slide from their clutches.
'The barracks, sir. The boy was assisted by a soldier here. We ought to look into that too.'
'Even better,' said Garrera, 'bring me the centurion in charge of this section.'
Lady Noor-shan had been in the Tyrne Palace, or the Hammedan Residence two days without ever seeing her esteemed guests, only palace servants that were surprisingly tenderer than anything she would have expected, although she could tell there was a chance they'd been directly commanded to treat her well. She had been given an entire chambers in what the souls in the palace called constantly called the south wing. A majestic bedroom befitting of her position, a cabinet of all sorts of jewelry, a wall mirror, a constant supply of food and drink, a personal maid, expensive perfumes, and even Kayan emeralds. But the clothes were mostly of Goldoran design, and she considered this an intentional affront, but then again, she was several hundred miles away from home in a hostile country. On the morning of the third day, she was aroused from her sleep by her maid, who startled her because she was standing over her like a ghost.
'Rise and shine, ma'am. Have to get you ready.'
'Ready for what? I haven't been allowed a minute of outdoors air, and I'm wearing Goldoran clothes.'
'Ma'am, our two nations are at loggerheads, but you and I don't have to be,' the maid, Rahab, was blunt as a mallet, 'I am your maidservant, and it is I who will take the fall if you so much as don't like the air you breathe.'
Noor-shan looked her right in the face, 'I suppose you're right. But what am I getting ready for? And, I was talking about the clothing.'
'You will be allowed to move freely in the palace, ma'am. We're going to the north wing, where the royal family resides. Breakfast will be served there. About the attire, I believe it's better to not wear your native designs. I know it's not ideal for you, but you will antagonize many people by insisting on it.'
Lady Noor-shan was appreciative of the maidservant's insight, and figured that perhaps she was better off heeding her advice. When she thought of what her slain husband would do, the answer was that he would be tactful, and endure all the concealed hatred and racist slurs and treacherous backbiting.
To get to the north wing, they had to cross a very large quadrangle with gardens, a pool that extracted water from the waters of a fountain standing in the center of the cobbled compound. As they approached the north wing it occurred to her that she was the first Korazite monarch to set foot in this palace for what could easily be a century or more. They encountered a gang of uniformed maids that bowed all the way down to their knees to greet her, which Rahab explained as the way that royals from other nations were shown respect.
The north wing was a touch more ornamented and shinier than the others, obviously. A porcelain-floor parlor unlike the tiles in her chambers, more designed walls, larger space. The first room they were standing in was just an empty hall with a few sculptures of armored warriors along the walls. The parlor in which the royal family sat was on the next floor, which was accessed via a spiral staircase. At the culmination of it there stood two figures, one of them a guard, and the other most certainly Noor-shan's opposite number, Teara of Goldora.
'There she is,' she said with a wide smile and open arms as if she was meeting a sister she hadn't seen for a decade, 'girls!' she referred to her daughters rather than the maids who were still busy setting up the final table preparations. The two girls were at least 14 or 15 years apart in age, but both of them sharply took their mother's features and looked strikingly alike. Noor-shan felt nauseated at the hospitality act, especially from the two older ladies.
'Queen Noor-shan!' said Teara loudly, 'I will take the honors of making you feel at home.'
'Queen?' Noor-shan was in no moods for false pretense.
'Of course. Please come along. Rahab, we'll take it from here.'
'Can take the queen out of the palace, but not the royalty out of the queen,' said the younger girl.
'This is our fifth and last born, Azreen. Seven years old. And Amine, my second, who will be 26 years old soon.'
'I am not a queen here, I am a captive,' Noor-shan was polite enough to say this in an inaudible whisper.
'Nonetheless, we are two queens of two antagonistic royal houses,' said Teara, also in a whisper. Noor-shan's face was now gazing at the other members of the family. She could make out the king Tao, but couldn't distinguish the sons from each other. Teara went on, 'so, since you're here in exile, I think it is better for us to just get used and not be hostile. Besides, can't see why I shouldn't make friends with a woman in the house closer to my own age,' she was ten years Noor-shan's senior, 'let's not get into the tiring politics and plans and all that jibber-jabber. That's men's business, eh?'
'Come sit with me!' the little girl offered her hand. The two old ladies looked each other in the eye, and Teara raised her eyebrows at Noor-shan, who took the little girl's hands. She knew that the girl's gestures were at least made of genuine emotional ingredients. At the table, the men there stood up to welcome her, including Tao.
'I'll introduce the men,' Tao said in his deep voice, 'that excludes me of course. I know you know I am not the horse handler. But I believe you've never met my sons. Amavi, eldest one, Deng-Dau and Jalloh.' The latter was about four years older than his little sister, as far as Noor-shan could tell.
'You have a cute name. You Korazites have cute names, I'll give you that,' said Deng-Dau.
'Deng-Dau, I will not tolerate hostilities on my breakfast table,' hissed Tao at the teenager.
'I like your name too, Deng-Dau,' said Noor-shan in a shambolic attempt to water the tense mood, though she felt like she could explode any moment.
'Queen Noor-shan, did you know that you're the first Korazite monarch to come here in exactly 112 years?' said Teara.
'And also the first one ever to have dinner with the Goldoran royal family,' said Deng-Dau.
'Interesting,' said Noor-shan.