Authors: Louis Shalako
Tags: #romance, #adventure, #fantasy, #satire, #alternate history, #louis shalako, #the conqueror
***
The Great Khan ruled over a hundred
satrapies. Some said there were more than that but no one could
remember all of their names.
His predecessor, Cyril the Great, had
ruled by force internally and at the same time, with his empire
turbulent with internal dissensions, he had kept the peace, for the
most part, with his neighbors. Yet the military reputation he had
acquired in his youth during his rebel years, and then the constant
fighting, over the course of decades to consolidate and pacify his
newly-won people had deeply influenced his sons. The one lesson
Cyril had inculcated, over and over again, practically pounding it
into the heads of all his sons, was that one had to be strong to be
secure—a usurper with no real claim on the throne, Cyril had both a
strength and a personal insecurity that could tolerate no
rivals.
Upon Cyril’s demise, three or four of
the elder brothers had fought it out. Their younger siblings had
been quickly dispatched in battle or strangled with their own
bowstrings in the sanctity of the seraglio.
The wars had been long and bloody, and
the man who would become the Great Khan had a long memory. His
embassies and requests for alliances had been rebuffed here and
there, everywhere almost, by the sovereigns of neighboring states.
They were, quite openly in some cases, waiting to see which way to
jump. They were afraid to back a loser. No one could ever really
know in the early stages which of the brothers stood the best
chance of winning. To back a loser was often fatal for other allied
rulers and nations. The plain truth was that his neighbors just
didn’t want to get involved.
That’s not to say that Jumalak didn’t
take it personally, because he did. Very much so. Especially after
he had won in a war that cost eight years, the best years of his
youth, and the lives of millions of his eventual
subjects.
Feeling that he alone had been anointed
by his Gods to rule over his people, he also believed that the
sword of justice was his and his alone. He could accept of no
other. All such men had their justification.
Simply put, he was a man with a grudge.
He had a standing army which needed employment and which it would
be dangerous to disband. That army was costing him hundreds of
thousands of gold pieces a day just to feed.
In short, sooner or later, he would
come.
Lowren looked up from the
map.
He met their eyes, for both were
formidable women. There was no underestimating Theodelinda. He was
going on an impression gained by merchant and traveler’s reports,
one now borne out by his own observations.
She asked the first question, while the
Queen carefully studied Lowren.
Theodelinda was calm and
cool.
“
Why are you here,
Lowren?”
“
Because you have something
I need.”
“
Why should we help
you?”
He straightened, addressing himself to
Eleanora.
“
Because it would be in
your best interest to do so.” His shifted his gaze to the cousin.
“I have ten thousand warriors available to me. We will be swept
away just as surely as a dead branch in a flooding river in
springtime…”
Eleanora nodded. This much was true—the
Lemni didn’t have stone fortifications, neither were their soldiers
professionally trained. And yet her own chances didn’t look all
that good either. Even if they were put together, their forces
would be puny. To treat with the Khan would be to delay the
inevitable, nothing more. To wait and do nothing, and not act in
accord with neighboring kingdoms, was to be devoured in turn, each
afraid to stand up alone against the common enemy. It was fatal to
be unwilling to ally with an old and not particularly friendly
neighbor…it was the old dilemma. Even the Lemni had raided
Windermere, not fifteen years ago.
There were too many petty
nation-states, and too many tongues and creeds, too many peoples,
and not all of them happy under a given flag. Some rulers were
rather precarious on their thrones, and some of them knew it very
well. Lowren laid it all out, starting with the basics of
statecraft as it was practiced these days. Some of the precepts and
some of the lessons sounded very familiar—like something her father
might have said.
“
And then comes along
someone truly formidable—with a view to conquest and the means to
do so.”
“
Keep talking.” It wasn’t
her kingdom to worry about or dispose of, but Theo had a
point.
In truth, she was next in line of
succession. Eleanora had no heirs.
“
What exactly are we asking
for, Lowren?” It was the first time she had spoken since he
began.
“
Well. I have a plan. As
you might imagine.”
She clamped her mouth firmly shut, eyes
narrow.
“
I will ask for your word.
We must keep this secret.” His eyes traveled to the door where the
ladies in waiting had disappeared. “Just the fact that I was here
would tell the Khan much.”
Eleanora bit her lip. He was right. The
man had already dragged her into it—unless the secret could be
kept.
She knew so little about
Lowren, and yet everything that she had heard redounded to his
credit as a king, a soldier and as a man. Her father had ended up
buying off
his
father. All of their captives and hostages had been promptly
returned, having some oddly good things to say about the humanity
of their savage conquerors once you got to know them a
little…
“
What do you
propose?”
“
That I shall escape in the
night from your bedchamber, Majesty.”
A bitter smiled crossed her
face.
“
It will be said that I
disappointed you in love, but somehow overpowered my guards and
escaped on the way to the block.”
“
But of course.”
“
It’s not your own people
that matter, Majesty. It is the distorted view that will be
transmitted across the seas by the very next commercial vessel to
make the journey to Sinopus—or more importantly to the Khan’s
palace at Artesphihan.”
By map, it was eleven or twelve hundred
miles to the Khan’s capital. The queen was familiar enough with
ocean commerce. It was, after all, the lifeblood of her kingdom. A
ship, fully laden and with favorable winds might only be making six
or eight knots. On a very good day, nine or ten.
Over the course of twenty-four hours,
that was still a formidable distance. This was a good story and the
news would travel fast. If we can’t keep the secret, then let us
distort the truth.
“
Assuming I don’t have
hundreds of men outside that door, Kann and I, one or two others,
are completely in your power, Majesty. I turn our fates over to
you.”
What an extraordinary thing to
say.
She regarded him for a long moment. He
was a brave man, but she hadn’t had any doubts of that before, and
all of that had just been hearsay. This was Lowren in the flesh—and
now she’d had a glimpse into his mind.
It might not be enough, but it was all
she had to go on at that particular moment in time.
“
Tell us more, Lowren. Tell
us much more.”
He talked about ships, and weapons, and
men. He talked about horses and fodder. He talked about gold, and
grain, and what it took to win a campaign. She and Eleanora had
many questions. As Lowren explained, the nucleus of the deal he was
proposing became clear. The only problem was one of mutual
trust.
They talked far into the night. Finally
she begged off on making any decision.
“
We will consider the
problem, Lowren.”
His face fell momentarily, but he took
it with as much grace as he could muster.
“
We must purify ourselves
in mind and body before coming to any decision.” A few more facts
wouldn’t hurt either. “This is not a decision to be made in
haste.”
Theodelinda broke in.
“
What she’s trying to tell
you, Lowren, is that she must consult with her
ministers.”
“
I understand.” He gave
Theodelinda a look. “All of your men will be returned unharmed—that
includes the County guards. They’re being well treated.”
Kann spoke up, bringing out the bag of
gold, a hundred and seventy-five gold pieces.
“
This is yours, I believe.
Your men will be released on the stroke of midnight.” Their guards
would simply melt away at the appointed hour, making their way
independently to a rendezvous point which he withheld from the
ladies, discretion being the better part of valor.
Eleanora ignored the purse and he put
it gently down on the table. Theo gave a soft snort, rolling her
eyes and Kann grinned affably at her.
“
Interestingly, Majesty, if
we can get into your castle, we can get into Sinopus.” His eyes
went from one to another, having no doubts about Lowren’s or his
own abilities, nor the abilities of the Lemnian troops in
general.
Theo just stared coldly at Lowren. Then
her gaze shifted to the other one and the look softened in
assessment. Lowren commanded the loyalty, possibly even the love,
of such men.
It was a factor.
“
You may go if you
wish.”
Kann looked at Lowren, who
nodded.
“
Give us ten minutes,
please, your Majesty.”
“
You shall have it,
although if there are any tricks, it might go very hard with you,
Lowren.”
The one known as Kann, far more than a
simple serjeant it would seem, furled the map and stowed it away in
his shoulder bag. With one long, last look into Eleanora’s
carefully-neutral gaze, Lowren and his companion turned on a nod
and departed silently and swiftly. The heavy slab thumped softly
closed and the bolt dropped. There was one last whisper of sound as
they descended the stairs.
They were gone.
The pair of them stood looking at the
door for quite some time.
Turning to each other, there wasn’t
much to say.
“
Well.”
“
Well,
yourself.”
But sooner or later, one of them would
have to go out there and find out what had happened to the
guard.
Chapter Four
They skedaddled down the stairs, with
its curious absence of guards and men. Out the door and across the
yard, feeling naked and exposed…into the cold hard shadows of
slanting moonlight.
The boys were right there in front of
the stables. The horses were saddled and their weapons slung from
the pommel in the case of the horses provided for Lowren and Kann
and the others. They strapped on the short swords that they
favored, listening for any hint of detection or pursuit. Their
bucklers were handed over and then they were ready.
Nothing but crickets and the far-off
murmur of soldiers by the gatehouse.
“
Right. We’re off.” They
cantered to the gate, clods and dirt flying in the dim orange light
of the exterior sconces.
Lowren, Kann, Bibb, Garvin and the
others exited the castle by the simple expedient of riding up to
the gate and waving a scroll at the men on duty. Still clad in the
livery of the County, the door was half open before one of the
guards thought to reach for the papers. Kann pulled them away
jokingly and then handed them over with an exaggerated flourish.
His timing was impeccable.
“
Yeah, yeah, slow down!”
The other guards hauled away at the foot-thick gate halves.
“Idiot.”
“
Thank you.” Lowren spurred
his horse into the opening and as the others kicked up their
horses, the way was fully open and there was no stopping them now.
“I resemble that remark.”
“
Ride!” Lowren’s heels
slapped against hard, warm, surging horse-flesh.
The moon was well up above the horizon,
the gravel of the road a white ribbon winding its way down the
hillside, following the contours and exposed to the full fire from
the battlements in case of war or siege.
Just ride.
“
Well, that seemed to go
very well.” Garvin held up a skin bottle of the local red, a bit
resinous, very dry and with enough alcohol in it to take the top of
the head off if one overindulged even the slightest. “Quite an
adventure, I must say.”
Their voices went and came echoing back
off the stone walls and abutments. It was a naked feeling, and yet
there was this rush of intense and rather pleasurable juices
inside. With a fairly sure-footed mount, Kann risked a quick look
up, knowing there must be men watching them go from the top of the
battlements. He thought he caught the gleam of a helmet here and
there as they patrolled on their rounds.
It was best not to think about it too
much.
“
I’ll take that.” Kann had
worked up a powerful thirst over the preceding couple of
hours.
He removed the stopper, drank greedily,
and showed no signs of passing it on.