Page 36

J ai’s heart soared as the Kidaran camp drew into sight, Harleen’s scouts accompanying them the last few miles, cheering the exhausted army.

They had ridden through the day in grim silence, for though the going was easier with the grass already flattened, the Kidaran warriors had been overburdened with the Valor’s citizens and baggage train.

Indeed, sunset was well and truly begun, with the cooking fires wafting the now familiar scents of Kidaran dinner. Riders slid from their mounts, leaving the grooms to their work, before staggering to their tents.

Jai himself was yearning for a moment’s respite – if nothing else, he needed to soulbreathe. But as he dismounted Chak, the excited chatter of the Kidaran citizens swiftly turned into alarmed cries. The reality of their new companions – the Valor – struck the camp.

It had all happened so fast, last night. He’d had Harleen inform the warriors of his plans to integrate the Valor, briefly, before the journey. Their reaction had been one of grudging acceptance, or so he’d been told, though he wondered if Harleen had sugared that pill.

So too had the general populace of the Kidara been informed in turn, though not by announcement. Even now, they stared at the Valor, children hiding behind their mothers’ skirts.

Jai knew he could not rest. Not when there was still so much to do, bonds to be forged and fears to be eased. The first step in weaving the two tribes together had been taken, but the path ahead remained long and arduous.

His eyes sought out Sindri, finding her amid the flurry of activity as the Valor began to erect their tents. As much as the Valor helped sell the Kidaran numbers, it was still striking to see how Sindri’s tribe was dwarfed by the Kidara, their camp but a sapling shadowed by a mighty oak.

For a while, he simply observed, caught in the whirlwind of his thoughts. There worked the Valor, their bodies sweat-stained with exhaustion, as they hammered stakes into the earth.

On the periphery of the Kidaran camp, his people had gathered, their numbers swelling into the thousands. Their initial alarm, as palpable as a gust of wind against his face, had begun to ebb, replaced now by a curious murmuring. His weary warriors started to mingle, sharing tales of their journey, and slowly, curiosity began to supplant fear.

For many of the Kidara, this was their maiden encounter with the Tainted. Unlike other tribes, the Kidara did not habitually hunt them to sell as fettered. In this, at least, Teji and Nazeem had taken a path of wisdom, focusing more on trade. The sight of the Tainted now, living and breathing amid them, was a strange reality they had to grapple with.

A flash of white caught Jai’s eye, as Winter darted from her perch behind him, where she had snoozed for much of the journey back. She darted among the Valor children she had once befriended, her lithe body weaving between their legs. At one point, she leaped upon a stack of wooden chests, flapping her wings for balance before it toppled with a crash, earning her a shaken fist from the elder they belonged to.

The Kidara, warming to her, began to laugh at the little dragon’s antics. The sight of the fearsome beast playing like an oversized pet had lightened the mood, soothing their unease like a warm hearth on a winter’s night.

In the midst of the laughter, a Kidaran boy extended a trembling hand towards her, emboldened by the example of the others. Winter, basking in all the attention, leaned into his touch, nuzzling against his palm with a soft purr. The boy’s fear melted away into a laugh of delight, and the crowd roared with laughter at his startled face when Winter lapped his face.

The tribes were united, if only for a brief moment. They were simply people, joined in shared mirth.

Jai could feel slumber calling, but he resisted. With a surge of energy, he rode over to Sindri, who was barking orders at her people.

‘Why do you camp apart?’ Jai demanded. ‘The Tejinder might arrive at any moment.’

‘It is only out of respect,’ Sindri explained, her eyes downcast. Nearby, Zayn gave his own instructions, sending scared tribesfolk scurrying to and fro.

‘Your people are Kidara, and mine the Valor,’ Jai said. ‘Bring them closer. And have your warriors form up in full regalia.’

‘To what end?’ asked Sindri.

He paused. ‘Let our people see your warriors in all their glory,’ he said. ‘This is the birth of a new people and they must see what this alliance has wrought. Meet their new family.’

‘As you wish, my king,’ Sindri said, the words stilted on her tongue. It must have been strange for her, to kowtow to the boy she herself had once held captive but a few days earlier.

Still, she was swift to give the orders, and the Valor, to their credit, reacted enthusiastically. For they too had likely never seen a tribe such as the Kidara, and they wished to impress. Truly, the ancient laws of the steppe had kept these two peoples apart.

Yet not all appeared pleased to be in the Kidara’s midst. Zayn and his close-knit band stood apart, arms folded, eyeing the onlookers with undisguised ill humour, leaning close to speak. It was well that they only made up a score or so, though they were made up of the best of the Valor’s warriors – Kiran among them, her face inscrutable.

Tents were taken down and then re-pitched with efficient haste and the air filled with the sound of excitement as the Valor rummaged for fresh garments. Amid the flurry of activity, Sindri stood tall, making her will known.

Jai couldn’t help but feel a pang of gratitude for Sindri’s strength and leadership. A lesser leader might have balked at the situation, but she had taken it in stride. He doubted she would leave with Zayn, when the time came. When all was said and done, he was fairly sure the Valor would be another of the great houses under his banner, and she their leader.

However, his gaze kept drifting back to Zayn and his group. Their discontent was palpable, a dark cloud that loomed large. Jai knew he would have to fix this sooner rather than later. Discord had a way of spreading like wildfire, and he had his own sparks – like Gurveer – he needed to douse. He spurred Chak closer.

‘Zayn,’ Jai called out as he neared the group, the chatter among them coming to a sudden halt. He was met with stony silence and a circle of wary eyes.

‘Yes, my khan?’ Zayn asked, giving an exaggerated bow.

With a sigh, Jai swung down from Chak’s back, his boots sinking into the soft earth. He could feel the weight of their gazes on him, some openly hostile, others merely curious. But Jai had learned by now to confront challenges head-on, and speaking imperiously down to them from his mount would earn no friendships.

‘We are all of the steppe,’ Jai began, his voice carrying over the growing quiet. ‘Sons and daughters of the Mother, all. And now we are of the same tribe. But have no fear: you remain Valor, as a great house under the Kidaran banner.’

Zayn’s eyes hardened at his words, but Jai did not falter.

‘I know that trust is earned, not given. I ask not for your trust tonight, but your patience. Give this union time, and it will show its worth.’

There was a pause as his words hung in the air. Then, slowly, one of Zayn’s companions, a grizzled warrior with a battle-scarred face, spoke up.

‘And if it doesn’t?’ he asked, his voice gravelly.

‘Then you may leave, with Zayn,’ Jai said, forcing the words, for they were sour on his tongue. ‘Freely, when the threat of the Tejinder is passed.’

The warriors nodded, apparently satisfied, even if Zayn spat off to the side. No matter. Right now, Jai needed the man’s blade, and his Alkhara, and these twenty or so warriors. Not his loving adoration.

Soon enough, the Valor were ready to ride into camp, for their belongings were few and far between, a consequence of the few khiroi they were accustomed to.

Yet even as Jai summoned his weary nobles, his flag bearer signalling at his command, the difference between the two tribes was all the more obvious. For even in all their finery, their hair braided with their jewellery, the symbols of the Valor emblazoned upon their garments, the Kidara were still the richer and more numerous, their clothing a deep blue while the Valor’s were the browns and greys of furs and leathers, punctuated only with flashes of purple.

‘With me!’ Jai called, as the Valor formed up behind him, a haphazard train of khiroi, sleds and bone-weary men, women and children.

He nudged Chak forward, heading for the central passage down the heart of the Kidaran camp. A ripple of uncertainty passed through the Kidara as the Valor approached, parting the crowd. The citizens watched in awe, as the Valor walked and rode, tall and resolute, even as onlookers shrunk away. They looked fearsome, each khiro rider a warrior in full battledress.

‘Jai, is this wise?’ Feng asked, spurring alongside him.

Jai wasn’t sure. He could feel the tension, and it was only growing.

The central plaza, one made for cooking, music and laughter, felt eerily silent as Jai and his party neared. Eyes followed them as they moved by the onlookers, their passage marked by a trail of quiet whispers and the soft wind rustles of flapping canvas and furs.

Close by, a Kidaran child babbled a few words of song, careless of the silence around him. His mother hushed him. But Jai recognised the melody.

It was a walking song, one he recognised not from his brief time with the Kidara, but from the Valor. A shared song, one that had survived the hundreds of generations of separation.

He found himself mouthing the tune. Then chanting. Perhaps singing, in his own way. His voice was weak at first, high and tremulous in the hushed air. Then Sindri, her voice lilting and soft, the first notes so surprising Jai turned to look at her.

A rich baritone joined him – Gurveer, nodding to Jai. Their voices rose together, as more joined, the Valor one by one lending him their voices.

A few Kidara joined, children at first, then adults, elders. They sang with different words, different tunes, but the melody was strikingly similar. The resulting chorus was wondrously discordant, and Jai allowed himself a small shred of hope.

And then, too soon, it ended, leaving the plaza silent as the last words faded, the air still, but eased of tension.

All eyes turned towards Jai. He knew they expected him to speak. To make a rousing speech he had to summon from his very soul, because he’d certainly had no time to think of one. Yet as he looked out at the sea of watching eyes, the rich scent of the stew in the air, he had a simpler idea.

There was one thing that had always brought people together, more than any speech or song. He grinned and clapped his hands, shouting but two words.

‘Let’s eat!’