Page 21 of The Tainted Khan (The Soulbound Saga #2)

T he wind snatched away any words that Jai attempted, so he could do little but grip Nazeem, and hold back the tears that pricked his eyes.

The soldiers were riding roughshod, and Jai could understand why. Had a war band as large as the Keldar’s come across them, they’d be wiped out. It had been a risk indeed, carrying so much wealth with such a small party. No wonder they’d kept their offerings some distance away.

Soon enough, he could see the outline of the Kidaran camp, blue blots upon a green canvas, crested by a hundred trails of smoke.

But before the camp had come into view, they were joined by another group, riding towards them. Two squires, boys barely older than himself, standing beside another dozen or so does. Baskets hung from the khiroi’s sides, neatly stacked with an assortment of blades and armour, gleaming in the sunlight. It was clear that the Kidara had been willing to pay a high price for Jai’s ransom, more than he or the Valor could have imagined.

Jai didn’t know what to make of the sight. Was it a compliment that they had been prepared to offer so much for his safe return? Or was it an insult that Nazeem had haggled so fiercely, and put Jai’s freedom at risk. It mattered, in the end, little. Jai was here now. Back with the Kidara.

Had he truly walked among them, all those years ago? His memories were fleeting, fantastical things, distorted by the passage of time and the whims of his imagination. He was left to wonder if those few memories he had treasured were nothing more than figments, conjured by his mind to fill the void.

Ahead of the camp, Jai was astounded to see another forty riders, gathered in a milling mass at the edge of camp, blocking his view. The nobles around Jai raised their swords high, whooping, riding into their midst alongside him.

This was clearly the war band, ready to be summoned if the exchange had been an ambush. Jai had never seen so many khiroi in one place.

And it was not just the riders. Beside the camp, there must have been more than a hundred more, cropping the grass under the supervision of a dozen squires.

This was no village. It was a city.

There were paths, lined with embrasures for the night. The tents, if the grand pavilions could be called that, were in stark contrast to those Jai had seen among the Valor. Some were adorned with vibrant banners, while still more boasted intricate embroidery of flowers and wild beasts, denoting the clans of those who owned them.

The camp was alive with activity; the air filled with the sounds of everyday life: craftsmen plying their trades, tailors sewing garments in the open. There were even merchants offering an array of goods, from spices and fabrics to pottery and metalwork.

Children played among the tents, chasing each other and fencing with thin bamboo for swords. Some paused in their games to stare at Jai and the entourage, wide-eyed and curious. Jai couldn’t help but feel apprehension at the sight of this thriving Kidaran community, so different from the harsh world of the Valor he had come to know. This was especially true because he had fallen in love with the simplicity of the Valor. There, the rules were clear, each knowing what was expected of them. But this place...

It was another world entirely.

In the heart of the camp, a pair of blacksmiths were hard at work, sweat glistening on their brows as they hammered molten metal into shape. The glow of their forges cast flickering light across their sooty faces, yet none turned to watch as Jai went by. The same went for the leatherworkers as they shaped saddles and harnesses for the khiroi, or the others he observed stirring great vats of blue dye as fermented leaves frothed indigo at the surface. And still another artisan nearby was diligently preparing tendons, stretching and scraping them to remove any excess flesh or fat before allowing them to dry under the sun.

There was an urgency in their movements. Something he recognised before, from his time among the Sabines. It was as if... they were preparing for war.

Jai’s heart surged at the thought, though he had no way of knowing for sure. But in his heart of hearts, he knew his estranged uncle, Teji, would not let the Sabines walk over them. It was no wonder the Kidara were headed west.

Because the Kidara had fought the Sabines before, and had handed Leonid the greatest of their defeats. Surely now they would rise in the Sithia’s defence again.

They reached the centre of the camp as he thought this, coming to an enormous plaza, as large as the market squares in Latium.

At its heart stood a massive tent, more akin to a palace than a temporary dwelling. Rich blue fabric adorned with golden embroidery flapped in the breeze, with a half-dozen guards standing sentry along its edges.

Nazeem swung down from his ride, handing the reins to a waiting squire.

Jai’s heart pounded in his chest as he dismounted too. He had been dreaming of this moment for so long, but now that it was here, he felt almost afraid.

He took a deep breath and walked up to the tent, his eyes fixed on the guards. They stood aside, bowing their heads, as he and Nazeem approached.

‘The creature stays here,’ one said. ‘Same rule for everyone, soulbound included.’

Jai nodded even as he bristled at the word ‘creature’. Still, he requested Winter wait with a thought. She did not like it, sensing Jai’s apprehension, but she did as he asked, sitting upon her rump and glaring at the curious onlookers, as if it were their fault she was being separated from her master.

Nazeem pulled back the curtain, a smile on his face.

‘Come, Jai, son of Rohan. Your uncle is waiting.’