The City of Pillars (24 page)

Qasim handed Andrasta her sword. “It came loose when you landed.”

Andrasta took the weapon, grunted, and stood.

“You should probably take it easy,” said Melek. “Khalil has lessened the swelling, but the bruising is still bad.”

“I’m fine.”

Khalil winced as someone helped him to his feet. “Listen to the captain. You had a fractured skull. The bones are mended, but there will still be some residual effects from the injury.” Andrasta swayed on her feet, almost falling until Melek caught her arm. “Like dizziness. It should pass in the next day or so.”

She wrenched her arm free of Melek’s grip, swearing. She walked away, stumbling. Qasim started to go after her, but Melek steadied his arm.

“Give her a moment alone. Tell me what happened.”

“It was Andrasta who first felt something off. She woke us and sounded the alarm when she discovered that Fahd was not in his position. Then the enemy came and she led us to them. We did well. We took down at least two dozen ghuls. Andrasta must have killed half that number herself. I’ve never seen her so angry. She fought as though . . . possessed. She spotted Nasnas in the rear commanding his forces. By Hubul, he’s huge, even larger than I ever imagined. She ran toward him, cleaving a path through the enemy. She and Nasnas fought briefly. It was strange. Despite the handicap Hubul’s son has, he can move with startling . . . grace. Regardless, Andrasta avoided all of his attacks except the last one, a backhanded strike that sent her reeling. It threw her back thirty feet. However, she managed to slice his thigh. Nasnas called an immediate retreat.”

“Amazing,” whispered Melek. “No one has ever fared so well against Nasnas without sorcery.”

“We all doubted your decision of bringing her in before, but each day I see how wise your decision was.” He paused. “Even the ghuls recognize her. Some ran away from our group to engage others. They kept calling her
Dunajan
. Do you know what that means?”

Khalil gasped next to Melek.

A shiver ran down Melek’s spine. “Deep in the annals, among our oldest surviving records, there is a small reference to that name.”

“What was it?” asked Qasim.

“One of Hubul’s human allies during the battle at the City of Pillars. If I remember correctly, it says: With dark skin and white eyes filled with rage, Hubul’s
Dunajan
killed the enemy in droves. They ran away in fear of her might. It goes on to say that because of her effort, Hubul’s son was forced to leave the battlefield. He sensed defeat, and that’s when he put a part of himself in the Mask of Halves.”

“I don’t recall there ever being a mention of women in the battle,” said another of the men. His voice held awe as he stared at Andrasta. She stood alone in the distance, scanning the horizon.

“It’s a small reference,” said Melek. “But the gender is clear.”

Qasim’s eyes widened. “Could it be that—”

“I think that’s enough for now,” said Khalil. “See to the others and leave me with the captain. We have much to discuss.”

When the men filed away, Khalil leaned close. “Why did you tell that story?”

“Why not? It’s the truth.”

“And look what the result of it was. They think she might be the
Dunajan
reincarnated.”

“You and I both know there is no reference to the
Dunajan
returning. The ghuls just probably thought Andrasta reminded them of it.”

“So then why let them believe in such absurdity.”

Melek shrugged. “Look around Khalil. We have lost many of our number and we still have much fighting left to do. The men are tired. We need to keep their hope alive. If the belief of a
Dunajan
helps, then so be it.”

“That’s blasphemy. Hubul alone is the only hope we need.”

“Even Hubul needed help to defeat his son. So why is it blasphemy to seek help ourselves?”

Khalil scowled.

Melek placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll talk more about this later. I need to go speak with Andrasta.”

* * *

Andrasta gazed out at the swimming horizon, doing all she could to will it to be still. Her head felt like someone had dropped a mountain on it.

She swore.
Who would have thought that whoreson could hit so hard with only one foot to balance? And his speed. . . .

She hated to give Nasnas credit, but he had gotten the best of her.

This time.

“You should be resting,” said Melek, coming up beside her.

I didn’t even hear him. Blasted ringing in my ears.

“I will later,” she mumbled. Her voice sounded foggy.

“Just don’t wait too long.” He added a grunt.

She turned slowly so her body wouldn’t react to the dizziness. “What was that for?”

Melek wore a soft smile that gave him a gentle look. “It’s just nice to know that there is something out there that can at least slow you down.”

“I’m not perfect.”
After all, I let Rondel be taken.
“And I have lost.” She closed her hands in determination. “However, I’ve never lost twice to the same opponent.”

* * *

Rondel started to smile as Nasnas hopped into camp carrying a gash across his thigh. Bright red blood ran down his leg.

The half-god began shouting his guttural language at Shadya. The word
Dunajan
came up several times in the tirade, Nasnas’s voice rising with every use of the word.

It was obvious that he had suffered another defeat at the hands of Hubul’s Host. The injury and losses were too much for Nasnas. In a fit of rage, he grabbed a ghul by its throat and squeezed, breaking its neck. Everyone, Rondel included, cowered from the outburst.

Even Shadya tried to keep her distance, but failed. Rondel couldn’t make out all that was said between them, but his slow understanding of the language allowed him to pick up a few words. What he understood, angered him.

Nasnas blamed everyone but himself for the defeat. Shadya tried to not only defend herself but also calm the half-god. Her efforts rewarded her with an open hand slap to the face.

Forgetting any fear of Nasnas, Rondel surged to his feet with fists tightened. “Don’t you dare strike her again, you piece of—”

A punch to the gut from Athar silenced him. “Sit down, scum.”

The ghul went over to wrap Nasnas’s wound.

Rondel gasped for air and crawled to where Shadya lay with hand against her face. He couldn’t believe that Nasnas would strike her.

She seems so small and helpless.

“Are you all right?” he huffed.

“Yes,” she whispered. “The slap was not that painful. It was what he said.” She paused. “That was a dumb thing to do, giving Athar a reason to strike you like that.”

“Probably.”

She faced him. He frowned at the red whelt on her cheek. “It was very sweet though.”

Rondel didn’t know how to respond. He had acted without thinking. He liked to think he would have done the same if any woman had been in Shadya’s place, but the overwhelming rage he had felt couldn’t be explained by some form of mundane chivalry.

Is all this still some lingering effect of the amulets? Or was Shadya right? Were my feelings real? Are they real now?
He stared at her swollen belly.
How could they not be real on some level? She’s carrying something I helped create.

“What did he say?” asked Rondel.

Shadya started to respond, but stopped herself. “Nothing. He was angry and wanted to hurt someone, so he . . . lied about things.”

“And chose to hurt you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

She got up and walked away, leaving Rondel to wonder why he felt so bad for someone who had selfishly manipulated him.

CHAPTER 22

Despite all of Shadya’s reassurances, Rondel refused to remove the cloth covering most of his face or lower his hands from shielding his eyes. He stood a hundred yards from the lifelike wall of swirling sand.

But not nearly far enough.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the dancing orange cloud that rose hundreds of feet into the air.

Their party had stopped at the top of an empty sand dune. Shortly afterward, when the sun started its descent, wisps of sand had begun to rise. Within minutes, the largest dust storm Rondel had ever seen, or heard of rose into the afternoon sky. It grew until it blanketed the horizon for miles. He almost ran, but a hand steadied him.

“It will not come our way,” Shadya had said.

And it hadn’t.

Nasnas, Shadya, and Athar simply stood and waited. Eventually, after much internal deliberation he relaxed beside them.

As the last light of day slipped away and the sky lost all color except for a bright gray caused by the moon, the storm ended. Sand dropped with the suddenness of someone snapping their fingers.

Rondel’s jaw fell open.

Well, now I know why no one could ever find the thing.

Exposed for the first time in centuries, the City of Pillars stood in a giant depression surrounded by walls of sand.

Massive stone pillars encircled the city. Directly in front of them, more pillars flanked either side of a wide road that led into the city proper where tall buildings with sharp lines waited them. Rondel couldn’t make out the details of the pillars or the buildings within the city from this far away, but the fact that he could even see them as clearly as he did at night said more than enough about their size.

He glanced up.
And when has the moon ever been so bright?

“Hubul’s power betrays him,” whispered Shadya.

“I don’t understand,” said Rondel.

“The moon is Hubul’s favorite of all the celestial bodies. Yet due to the alignment, it is at its brightest. His own power will be what helps us bring him down.”

Nasnas spoke, then took off in a galloping hop.
Even with the bandage around his thigh, he moves with such agility.

“Where’s he going?” asked Rondel.

“To scout ahead and determine the state of the altar.”

The altar.
He gave a small sigh.
It’s a shame I’m not a minstrel anymore. This journey has everything. Adventure. Sorrow. Deceit.
He thought of Nasnas’s sheared body.
Fear.
Rondel’s eyes swept back to the fading sight of the naked half-god hopping away. Nasnas’s single firm buttock bounced with each footfall.
And the humor is built solidly into the story.

Subconsciously, his mind began crafting a verse that rhymed “camel hump” with “ample rump.”

Shadya’s somber voice jarred his thoughts. “Come.” Athar helped her back onto her mount.

Since Nasnas’s outburst following his last defeat, Shadya’s positive attitude had waned. She still seemed the dutiful servant, but it appeared that she did things reluctantly rather than with her normal fervor. Rondel had asked twice more about what was said exactly, but each time he was ignored.

In fact, Shadya had become more introspective, often looking down and rubbing a hand gently over her stomach where the child they had created grew. After settling in the saddle, he noticed her caressing her belly yet again.

“Having second thoughts?” Rondel asked.

She pulled her hand away quickly and clicked her reins.

* * *

Andrasta and the men of Hubul’s Host sat in a half circle underneath an invisible dome of calm. Outside, a hurricane of sand and dust swirled around them. Inside, the wards established by Khalil kept away the howling wind and annoying grit.

She took a deep breath, admittedly a little unnerved by being enveloped by the storm.

Khalil had impressed her with how quickly he erected the protection.

Andrasta always avoided sorcery when possible. However, she needed to be at full strength for the coming battle and reluctantly let Khalil heal her remaining injuries from Nasnas as well.

“Listen up,” said Melek.

He nodded toward two men. They began unrolling a large scroll, tanned with age and creased at the edges. Drawn in black ink was the layout of the city. Erban notes covered the diagram.

Melek pointed to a spot on the map. “We’re currently there. It isn’t the most ideal spot, but a good one nonetheless. When the storm ends we should be able to travel along this ridge and enter the city through the main road.”

“Can we not enter through a different way?” asked Omar. “Coming into the city from the center will leave us exposed and surrender any element of surprise we might have.”

“You’re right,” said Melek. “We’ll be at a slight disadvantage. However, any other entrances are warded by ancient sorceries that will take too long for Khalil to break.”

“So, the plan is to just barrel our way in and hope we have enough men to make it to the city’s center?” asked Omar.

“Not exactly. We’ll enter the city on the main road to bypass the outer wards. From there, each unit will split off in four directions. Yes, four. I’ve reorganized the units since our losses in the last battle. Among the six men in each group, each will have their own sorcerer to root out any warded traps and deal with djinns and ghuls. Group one will be yours. Omar, you’ll take the center path.”

Omar puffed with pride. From what Andrasta gathered, the center path was one of the toughest routes to the altar. The lieutenant bowed his head. “You will have no worries, Captain.”

Though she and Omar never found good terms after their sparring match, he at least avoided her so the tension between them had waned. She in turn found herself respecting the man more and more after each battle with Nasnas’s armies.

Next to Melek he is easily the best fighter. In time, he could end up better.
She eyed the men seated next to Omar.
And the others respect him greatly. He probably could have been captain himself under the right circumstances.

Melek responded with a slight smile, trying to lighten the grim mood that hung over the group. “My only worry will be whether you’ll save any ghuls for the rest of us to kill, my friend.”

Everyone chuckled. The weight hanging over them not quite so pressing.

Melek went on for half an hour explaining the planned route of each group. He also covered alternative routes in case problems arose. Andrasta listened intently, admiring the detail that went into the approach. She could find no fault in it.

Melek finished and dismissed everyone to last-minute preparations. Men tended armor and weapons, and grabbed the last bite to eat they’d likely have for hours.

Or ever,
she thought, ripping off a hunk of dried horse meat.

It was also common practice before a battle for many to mutter quick prayers to their god or gods of choice. In Hubul’s Host, this act was more sincere than Andrasta had ever seen. Prayers were long and tear filled. Blessings offered by sorcerers who doubled as holy men were grandiose and laden with promises of eternal thanks and love.

Andrasta shook her head, choosing instead to focus on the thing that drove her.

Who would have thought I’d ever risk so much for one person?

Training under Master Enzi, her gender made her an outcast. In her father’s house, family looked down on her because of her mixed blood. Even in the streets of her home, she found no friends because her social class did not match the other children.

Growing up, her world revolved around her mother, and when she died young, Andrasta had no one but herself.

She left Juntark to do what most in Untan deemed impossible, steal the Jewel of Bashan.

And every person I met after leaving was just as bad as any in Juntark.
She snorted.
Until I found someone with more heart than he cares to admit.

She and Rondel were opposite in so many ways she had thought their partnership would never amount to anything of substance.
Yet, he’s the only friend I’ve ever had.

What makes him so special? His knowledge. A quick wit. His ability to appreciate things I never cared for. Most of all, I think it’s the way he treats me.
Yes, he’s lingered a bit when seeing me in less than ideal positions. But not long, and that’s all but stopped as time goes on. Regardless, he doesn’t belittle me because of my sex or my blood. Nor because of my education.

Andrasta had reasoned that someone like that was worth risking her life for, regardless of what happened after.

Melek plopped down beside her with a smile. “Are you ready?”

She shoved the last bite of meat into her mouth. “I’m always ready.”

“Good. Any questions or,” he paused, lowering his voice, “criticisms of my plan?”

“No. I do have one off topic question though. Something that has been bugging me.”

“Yes?”

“I keep hearing the word
Dunajan
used around me. What does it mean?”

Melek reddened slightly as he told her.

She scowled. “I am no resurrected legend. Nor am I a prophetic chosen one.”

“I know. And don’t worry, there is no prophesy about the return of the
Dunajan
.”

“Then why do you let the lies persist?”

“Because everything I have ever believed in and worked for all leads to this moment. We cannot fail. If letting my men believe in few twists of the truth will help our odds of success, I’ll take it.”

“Even if I disapprove?”

“I’ve dedicated my entire life to Hubul. I cannot fail him. I’ve only known you for a short time.” He paused, and began fidgeting. “Perhaps when this is all over, we can . . . redefine the nature of our association.”

Andrasta’s eyes widened. Her stomach knotted. No one had ever made a comment like that to her before, at least not with any level of sincerity. Her head spun with a thousand thoughts.

Why me?

Melek cleared his throat and began talking again before Andrasta could muster any sort of response. “May I ask you something?”

She nodded, still trying to gather her wits.

“Why are you so loyal to Rondel?”

She raised an eyebrow in confusion though admittedly she welcomed the change in subject.

“It’s just from what I’ve learned, you have not been the man’s partner for long. And Khalil said you aren’t lovers. It’s not common for most people to take the risk you’re taking for someone.”

For a breath, she thought about telling Melek some of the things that had just crossed her mind, but she decided that wasn’t something for him to know. She settled on a simple answer.

“He’s my friend.”

Melek smiled. “Many people have friends.”

“He’s a close friend.”

“Some people claim to have dozens, if not hundreds of close friends.”

“I have one.”

The swirling sand outside the protective barrier crashed to the ground in one dramatic motion.

Melek jumped to his feet and shouted. “Everyone up! We move now!”

* * *

The impressive nature of the pillars increased as Rondel neared the city. He estimated that each rose somewhere between sixty and seventy feet high, topped usually by a sculpture of an animal common to Erba such as the oryx, camel, hyena, or viper.

They entered the city through a wide avenue. The clomping of their horses’ hooves echoed around them. More pillars, shorter than those bordering the city, flanked either side of the stone road. Rondel admired the smooth limestone. None showed the slightest bit of wear or decay, a marvel considering the city’s age and the amount of time it had spent below sand.

Smaller one-story buildings sat behind the stone pillars on either side of the road. Square in shape with flat roofs, they would have seemed ordinary, almost boring, in any other setting. However, the sharp corners, perfect angles, and smooth walls impressed him as much as the towering pillars.

The buildings grew in size and complexity, rising upward of five stories. Several peaked in pyramid rooftops. Doorways or windows occasionally took the shape of circles or rounded arches.

Rondel managed to maneuver his mount toward one side of the road, close enough to peer into one of the homes. The bright moon gave enough light to see inside.

A large, stone table sat in the center of a room. Wooden benches surrounded it. Atop of the table, rested four bowls and an equal number of cups. A large empty platter, large enough to fit a roasted goat, sat at the table’s center. It reminded Rondel of a family setting places for dinner.

Except there is no family.

According to Shadya, the people of the city had been wiped out, down to the last child due to their disobedience to Hubul.

Rondel cleared his throat. “I don’t see any remains of those that once inhabited this place.”

“Their bodies have long since been claimed by time,” said Shadya.

“How can everything else look as though it hasn’t aged a single day?”

“Part of the ritual set in place by Nasnas was to ensure the city would stand until his return so that he could once again repopulate it with those loyal to him.”

If Nasnas had never become greedy, the city might still be filled with life. What a mule.

They passed under the largest building in the city, a plain monolith, void of windows and doorways, except for one. The only change in shape came from a massive arched tunnel that spanned the width of the road, allowing travelers to pass under the building.

“What is this?” Rondel asked.

“The old palace,” Shadya answered.

“Where is the extravagance?”

“The rulers of the time did not believe in such things. It was why the city had thrived like no other in human history. The leaders were committed to the growth and prosperity of the city. When not eating or sleeping, they worked to advance their civilization.”

“Who in their right mind would ever want to be the ruler then?”

“Many,” said Shadya. “People fought for power here just like any other place.”