Chapter 24
At the north-eastern edge of the Everdeen estate, along the thin tree line that backed onto thicker forests of pine and eucalyptus, the Jaharri set their tents in rows twenty deep around a circular central camp. Most were positioned on the flat, lush grazing pastures of a field, but along the outer eastern border of the camp they were sheltered by the tall trees of the rising woodlands. Beside the camp they tethered their horses, surrounding them with another line of protective guards to keep the animals safe while they grazed. The stream that bordered the estate here provided both horses and men with a ready source of fresh water. Within the vast perimeter of their tents, the spahi set up their cooking and campfires and cleared an area of ground so they could practice and train; now that they’d stopped marching, they were happy to resume the endless martial drills that so dominated the life of a warrior in El’Kasari.
Over the next few days Zafirah kept her army busy fortifying and improving their defenses, adhering to an ancient Jaharri adage that an idle warrior was a dead warrior. Latrine pits were dig to ensure they did not foul their water source. Wood was gathered from the forest and used to construct a series of makeshift shield-walls which they positioned along the outer ring of tents, providing extra cover in case of a ranged attack. Falak’s scouts, seeking the best vantage from which to keep watch and enable them to fully utilize their bows, climbed into the tall trees and constructed basic platforms high up in their branches to serve as lookout posts. Presently, Zafirah had her troops digging trenches to foil any potential cavalry charge. With the Jaharri defenses growing stronger as they perfected and enhanced their position, Zafirah doubted even Lord Everdeen would be so blind as to believe he could evict her army by forceful means.
After the initial hostile meeting with Dae’s parents, Hazim, Nasheta and Inaya had little difficulty calming Zafirah down. She’d hardly expected a warm reception, after all, and now that they’d finally reached their destination, she was willing to be patient if it meant avoiding an armed conflict with her Consort’s family. She knew Dae had missed her parents terribly after her abduction, and that returning to face their judgment and condemnation of the love the two of them shared must have been a difficult experience. Zafirah didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the possibility of a reconciliation, no matter how unlikely it seemed.
She could sense that Dae was close by…somewhere on the estate, likely sequestered out of sight somewhere secure where she would be unable to facilitate her own escape. Falak had ordered her scouts to monitor the comings and goings of Lord Everdeen's soldiers, believing she could discern Dae's whereabouts by their movement. Still, just knowing her Consort was no longer separated from her by a distance of hundreds of miles made Zafirah feel considerably more at ease, and she allowed her wazir the time and space he needed to see amicable terms reached.
The slower moving camel trains and wagons which had trailed behind her army began arriving on the third day, along with their guards and attendants, bringing not only grain, coffee and spices, but a few comforts from home for the troops. Only one team reported any hostile encounter with the outlanders; having found courage at the bottom of an ale barrel, a group of brash young peasants had attempted to accost one of the wagons as it passed close by their village. The spahi recruits assured Zafirah they had handled the matter as gently as they were able, disarming the men with ease and giving them a stern warning not to act so rashly in the future.
Richard’s soldiers observed the Jaharri establish their camp and steadily strengthen its defensive fortifications, and it was obvious they were both surprised and impressed. With the truce established by their lord, many among them seemed to grow more curious about their uninvited guests. A few even sought permission to enter the Jaharri camp for a closer look at their exotic weapons and to observe their sparring sessions, which Zafirah readily granted. She was confident of her army’s defenses and saw no harm in letting the outlanders watch her men train. As leader of her people, responsible for keeping peace between numerous tribes who enjoyed nothing more than waging war against one another, Zafirah knew this demonstration of trust could only ease tensions between the two forces. It might also help dispel some of the myths and misconceptions held by the outlanders, make them see her warriors as more than just simple-minded barbarians.
Nasheta, growing bored with life in the camp, soon initiated her own assault on the outlander soldiers. She lamented loudly over her disappointment at not being able to explore the sprawling formal gardens around the estate, making certain her comment was overheard by Richard’s men when they came to watch the spahi train. Zafirah watched with a smirk as the outlander soldiers fell easy prey to Nasheta’s charm, several among them hastily offering to escort her on a tour through the grounds. Nasheta readily adopted the role of demure, innocent maiden so none would suspect her true nature, accepting their offer with bashful thanks.
Wandering the gardens with her entourage of admirers, Nasheta spoke openly with the men about her life in El’Kasari. She described the magnificent marble halls of the palace, the busy streets and vibrant markets of the city, and the lush gardens of the seraglio where she spent most of her days frolicking in the great pool. She was careful to omit the details of her more licentious activities during these talks, but her stories about the fabled city painted a portrait of a world these men had only heard about from rumors and legend.
It was a subtle strategy, well suited to Nasheta’s gifts: soften the hearts of Richard’s fighting men, make the prospect of battle less appetizing. Though she hoped to settle with Dae’s father quickly so they could return to the desert as soon as possible, Zafirah was realistic enough to realize Lord Everdeen would not be swayed to a swift compromise. Hazim had assured her that his counterpart, Edmund, was quite eager to hand Dae over and see them depart, but he was having a difficult time convincing Richard to see the futility of his stubborn resistance.
Zafirah wondered if they would still be encamped in the watered lands when winter’s chill turned to the rebirth of spring.
* * *
Richard studied the three men standing before him in the audience hall, fighting to keep his expression from revealing too much of his inner frustration and ire. It was unusual for Father Douglas to leave the sanctuary of his monastery, and he’d likely only invited the two lesser priests to attend this meeting to bolster his courage; neither one looked grateful to be here.
Of course, the aged priest didn't look especially overjoyed himself.
Father Douglas had been appointed to his current post many decades ago by Richard's father, Lord Miles, when Richard was but a boy. He was the last of the “old guard” remaining on the estate, the only member of Miles' staff not to follow him into a well-earned retirement in the capitol. Their relationship had always been one of civil dislike; Douglas made no secret of the fact he felt Richard valued militaristic honor too highly above religious zeal, while Richard believed there were better ways the church might aid the common people than the monastery currently offered. Over the years Richard had often considered replacing Douglas with someone more to his liking, but it had always been easier to ignore the matter rather than address it. Douglas was old, he would tell himself, and it wouldn't be honorable to cast him aside in his twilight years.
It was only out of sheer desperation that Richard had sent Dae to the monastery; Douglas may have been a sanctimonious wretch, but he’d dedicated most of his life to developing methods of curing those afflicted by impure desires. Surely if anyone could save Dae, it would be him.
Alas, it appeared not.
Studying Douglas now—his darting eyes circled with shadows and his already stooped posture exaggerated to such a degree he appeared bent and hunchbacked—Richard almost felt a moment of pity for the old man. Having lost control of his precious monastery, Douglas reeked of fear and desperation. Folding his arms over his chest, Richard waited until the silence grew uncomfortable before he finally broke it.
“And so, Priest, you repay my faith in you with abject failure,” he said, his voice a deep, rumbling growl. “Why have I been funding your program all these years if you can't offer aid when called upon? You promised me my daughter could be reasoned with, could be turned from the paths of sin she was led down…but now you tell me she has all but usurped your authority! In your own house, no less!” When Douglas offered no reply beyond a trembling upper lip, Richard slammed his palm down on the armrest of his chair and glared down at him. “Have you nothing to offer in your defense?”
Douglas cringed, wringing his hands together and offering a cowering bow. “Respectfully my lord, it isn't our fault. Your daughter has become a corrupting influence on the lost souls we’re trying to save,” he whined. “These wretches are growing more confused every day, and now that we can no longer take measures to correct their negative impulses, they’re falling prey to their base urges. Just this morning I walked in on two of these poor girls locked in an intimate embrace. They were—” He choked, scarcely able to describe the horror. “They were…kissing!”
“Then PUNISH them!” Richard roared, no longer able to keep his emotions concealed. “That’s why they’re sent to you, isn’t it? To be shown the consequences of succumbing to their animal lusts before it's too late? To be taught self-control! Discipline!”
“P-please, my lord, we don’t dare! Dae has made it clear that if we use such means to help these people, she’ll see to it the Jaharri slaughter us all!”
“Then what would you suggest I do? Attack the Jaharri? Sacrifice the lives of my soldiers because of your incompetence?”
“Perhaps…well, perhaps it might be best to give Dae back to the savages,” the priest offered timidly. “Then they’ll leave the Heartland and my brethren and I can get back to our sacred mission. It is a terrible sacrifice to ask of you, my Lord, but the longer Dae remains in the reformatory, the more time she has to spread this insidious corruption.”
Richard stared at him, utterly incredulous. “I sent Dae to you so that you could cure her of the delusions inflicted upon her by those desert scum, and now you suggest I just hand her back to them?”
“You have an obligation, milord, to your people and to the others we’re trying to help. Our methods have always proven highly effective, but only when the deviance is addressed quickly…before it can take firm hold. Perhaps if we had more time, or had been able to treat her sooner, Dae might have found her way back to the light. But now…I fear the best we can hope for is to minimize her influence—”
“I will NOT lose my daughter again!”
“Dae is already lost! I’m sorry for saying it, milord, but it’s true. You simply can’t imagine her behavior! She tempts these girls endlessly, encouraging them to indulge their urges with lurid tales of her own experiences. She’s convincing them that what they feel is natural, that they should give in to their carnal desires…spreading the poison of Jaharri ideals. If it continues much longer there may be no hope at all of recovery for these people.”
Richard was appalled to hear this description of the debauched creature his precious daughter had become, could not imagine her acting so wantonly…but he still couldn’t bear the thought of returning Dae to the monsters who had so warped her. Taking a few deep, calming breathes, he tried to bring the turmoil of his emotions back under control.
“Has Dae attempted to escape? Made any effort to contact the Jaharri or alert them to her location?”
“No, milord. Aside from her lurid flirtations, she seems willing enough to attend to the same chores and participate in the same activities as everyone else. Still, if you won't return her to the Jaharri, perhaps you might consider bringing her back into the main estate house? It would be to the benefit of the other—”
“No.” Richard cut off the request curtly. “Dae will remain under your care until I decide otherwise. At least in the reformatory you can keep her occupied and out of the way…unless you fear even this simple task is beyond your ability?”
“N-no, milord, certainly not—”
“Good. Then for now, give Dae no more reason to rebel. Return to your flock, and perhaps if you can keep from adding to the list of your failures you will still find yourself in charge of the monastery when this is all over.”
Father Douglas managed a sickly smile that seemed more like a grimace, bowed, and led his two fellows out of the audience hall.
Richard watched them depart, wondering if he might not be better off bringing Dae back to the main house as Douglas suggested. After a moment, he scowled and shook the thought away. Though he’d never reveal as much to a commoner like Douglas, the truth was Richard feared that if Dae returned to the house, it would only lead to increased tension between them. The memory of their last meeting, how he’d allowed his emotions to fully surmount his control, was one he had no desire to repeat.
Some distance and a little time to let emotions cool seemed a less painful choice then continued arguments and hurtful words right now.
Later that evening Richard was forced to listen while his adviser added his own arguments in favor of handing Dae back to Zafirah. But while Father Douglas’ pleas were certainly based on a selfish desire to regain control of his monastery, Edmund’s arguments were unnervingly rational and convincing.
Feeling cornered, Richard found himself considering desperate alternatives.
“Perhaps we could send a party into the city,” he suggested, his eyes growing dangerously thoughtful. “Have them find warriors to reinforce our own men. There are always mercenaries willing to fight for any cause…kill any man—or any woman—if the price is agreeable.”
“You can’t do that, my lord!” Edmund protested at once, sounding genuinely alarmed at his proposal. “Military power won’t resolve this conflict, you must see that!”
“Why not? If the Scion is killed then her army will surely fall. And with her death, my daughter will have no choice but to see reason. Even the King will be grateful if we can put an end to the Jaharri menace.”
“No, he won’t!” Edmund shook his head, his tone emphatic. “You must understand, milord, that the army the Scion has brought with her is but a fraction of the Jaharri forces. Most of her troops were doubtless left behind to ensure the desert city is protected in her absence. In addition, the tribal nomads who owe allegiance to the Line of Scion’s are a largely warrior caste. Zafirah is revered by her people; if you killed her, they would only rally to a new leader and seek to avenge her death.”
“Then the King will have no choice but to send the Royal Guard to deal with them.”
“With the wealth of El’Kasari they could hire mercenaries from across the northern sea and the far west; ally their fleet with the pirates who raid the coast, blockade every port city in the kingdom, including Farlon. Their numbers would be overwhelming! They would sweep through the kingdom, and this time they would slaughter all who stood before them!”
Richard scoffed at the thought. “You think those barbarians could actually be a threat to us?”
“Barbarians they may be, my lord, but the Jaharri are fierce and adaptable fighters, toughened by a land few others could endure. Perhaps a few brash young lords might whisper of their designs for conquering the desert city, but those who understand the true might of the desert know better, and they have always held the King’s ear. Why do you think Gerald is so eager to keep the Peace? Why he has never sought to subjugate them in the past? Because like every King who came before him, he knows he cannot match the strength of the Jaharri; a war against them would be the end of his rule, and would decimate this land.”
“Then why have they never sought to conquer our lands before? Our kingdom is far richer, more hospitable, than those arid wastes they wander.”
“The desert is sacred to the Jaharri; it is both their land and who they are as a people. To them, everything that lies beyond the sands is a mystery they care nothing about. They have never invaded because there is nothing in our lands they desire.” He paused, then added, “Or so it has been…until now. The Scion will leave in peace only when she has been given what she came here to collect.”
Richard, who could not deny his practical knowledge of the Jaharri was almost nonexistent, didn’t argue the point further. He vaguely recalled reading of an encounter his great-grandfather’s brother once had with the northern, sea-faring tribes of the desert, but the details were hazy. “She cannot remain here indefinitely. Sooner or later her people will insist she return to the desert; we need only wait her out.”
“Perhaps, my lord, you might consider the Scion’s request that she be permitted to visit Dae in person. She’s becoming quite insistent on the matter—” Richard’s lips pulled into an angry frown, and Edmund hastened to reassure him. “—and it would only need to be a brief meeting…just to confirm Dae is safe and being well-cared for.”
“Does she think I would actually harm my own daughter?”
“Of course not, Lord Everdeen,” Edmund said smoothly…though Richard was annoyed to note that his eyes glanced awkwardly away. “But it’s not an unreasonable request…one easily satisfied, and it would go a long way toward appeasing the Jaharri.”
“I won’t allow that woman in the same room as Dae!” Richard insisted. “And neither will I allow her to set foot in the monastery.”
Edmund gave a weary sigh that Richard suspected was mostly for show. “In that case, my lord, perhaps you’d agree to allow the Scion to send an agent on her behalf to confirm Dae’s well-being…someone more acceptable…?”
Richard’s eyes narrowed suspiciously; he sensed Hazim’s fingers were pulling Edmund’s strings, guiding his words with that slick Jaharri cunning. “One of her warriors? So he can scout the building and the guards and seek their weaknesses?”
“No…no, not a warrior. I’ve been told the Scion has brought with her several, um…servants. Hand-maiden types, I suppose. They aren’t actually part of the army, just simple girls of the lower classes with no military skills at all…yet they hold the Scion’s trust. Perhaps one of them could be sent to meet with Dae on the Scion’s behalf?”
Richard considered this carefully a moment. He had to give the Jaharri something to keep the truce from breaking down. If the Scion felt no progress was being made, it was possible she would turn to more direct action to see Dae released…and despite his desperate resolve not to lose Dae again, Richard cared a great deal for the lives of his soldiers and the common people he ruled.
Edmund was watching him anxiously, and he eventually gave a nod. “Very well. Tell your Jaharri counterpart they may send the girl—only one girl, mind you—tomorrow, and I’ll have the guards escort her to the monastery.”
“Excellent, my lord,” Edmund said, doing a poor job of masking his relief at achieving this first, small victory. “I shall deliver your words at once.”
“And Edmund? When you’re done, see if you can dig up my great grand-uncle’s old journals and bring them to me.”
“My Lord?”
“If I recall correctly, Klifton had dealings with the desert tribes during his adventures. I’d like to refresh my memory on how he handled them.”
Edmund seemed a touch confused by his request, but he nodded. “I shall see what I can find, my Lord.”
Watching his adviser scuttle away, Richard ran his fingers through his hair in resigned frustration. Things were falling apart, he knew. The dream he had held so close to his heart—to see his daughter returned safely to his arms—had become a nightmare so quickly, so unexpectedly, that he was still struggling to make sense of everything that had happened. He hated this…hated that his emotions were getting the better of him, hated the feeling that he was losing control. That control was an essential part of his noble birthright, vital to his authority over the lands he governed in the King’s name. Richard considered himself a good man, and the violent desires he had to crush the Scion, to see her driven from these lands by force, did not sit comfortably with him.
But how could anyone expect him to sacrifice his only child like this? How could they ask him to turn her over to that woman…to see her further subjected to those foreign perversions?
Later that same evening, when Edmund came to deliver Klifton’s worn and yellowed journals for his perusal, he also brought word from the King. The letter was carefully phrased, but between the delicate wording Richard read the intent loud and clear; Gerald expected him to resolve this situation peacefully. When he shared the news with his wife, Simone was every bit as distraught as he, but they both could feel the pressure mounting. Sooner or later, it seemed, a settlement must be achieved. Dae would again be lost to them, lost to the desert that had changed her forever.
They might be able to delay the negotiations, true…but sooner or later, their child would be gone.