Page 39

‘W ell played,’ Teji conceded, clapping as he approached, his applause slow and patronising. ‘Quite the performance.’

‘I am my father’s son,’ Jai replied.

The retort took Teji aback, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before his expression hardened.

‘Should you expect any concessions, you are gravely mistaken,’ Nazeem interjected, usurping Teji’s attempt at a retort. ‘We can breach this... this mockery of a blockade.’

‘I eagerly anticipate your attempt,’ Jai replied, casting a nonchalant gesture towards his assembled forces behind him. ‘In the unlikely event that you manage to breach our spear walls and then turn in time to meet our charge, my knights will ride you down. Are you willing to take such a risk here, in the midst of our encampment?’ He paused, gesturing towards the labyrinthine network of tents. ‘Observe, even now, my forces secure your avenues of escape.’

It was true. The corridors that had been used to enter were now a maze of fabrics, some little more than a fur stretched between two stakes... but impediment enough for cavalry trying to manoeuvre.

‘We’ll cut them down,’ Teji hissed. ‘And any who try to stop us.’

‘I think not,’ Jai said. ‘Your men may be willing to combat mine. That is the nature of war. But see who surround you. Will they cut through common citizens? Through the people who had, until a few days ago, been their friends and family and neighbours?’

Teji’s mouth flapped, then closed.

‘So the serpent’s game suits you, then?’ Nazeem sneered, his words laced with an acrid bitterness. ‘Hiding behind innocents?’

Now Jai felt his blood rise. There was accuracy in that statement. For it was true. Those clutching spears were not trained soldiers but ordinary men and women. But coming from Nazeem...

‘You’re one to talk. As if you’ve ever had the people’s well-being in the mind.’

‘How dare—’

‘Only a desperate man resorts to trickery,’ Teji finally blurted, cutting off Nazeem.

‘In my experience,’ Jai retorted coolly, ‘it’s not trickery if it’s in plain sight. Did my father not use the feigned retreat upon Leonid, in our first major victory in the War of the Steppe? For someone so concerned with legacy, you seem to know little of our family’s history.’

Teji spat in Jai’s direction, but the gesture was feeble, the spittle landing harmlessly somewhere between them. His nobles bristled and Winter let out a deep, resonant growl, but Jai held up his hand. A moment of tense silence ensued.

‘Our khiroi outnumber yours, three to two,’ Teji declared, in an attempt to fill the disquieting silence, a dismissive wave accompanying his words. ‘I’ll allow you it will be a bloody affair, but that will be on your head.’

Jai was not sure if enraging Teji was a good idea, for he still wished to end this without bloodshed. But it seemed his uncle could not see what was plain. So poor was his understanding of battle, he still thought he had the upper hand.

It was time to shatter that illusion.

‘I’m not the one who attacked, am I? I let you and your people go, yet you’re the ones who chased us down after your treachery. So the Mother knows whose hands the blood will be on. But that’s all of no matter.

‘Sound the horn,’ Jai called out.

His flag bearer already had the horn in his hands, and now he lifted it, and let out three short bursts.

The sound echoed around the square. Then, in the distance, came three notes back.

It hung long in the air, before being returned in kind from the distance, as if it echoed from a distant mountain. Then silence. A hushed murmur floated on the wind, soon replaced by resounding battle cries and the ominous rumble of approaching cavalry.

They came then, the Valor streaming in, cutting a circuitous path through the tents to gather in a predesignated clearing, behind the Tejinder knights. Jai knew the Valor numbers had been inflated by grooms from both camps riding the leftover khiroi, untrained, or too young or old for battle – but Teji didn’t know that. All he saw were the riders, their blades raised high, mounts surging en masse.

‘Fight your way through that,’ Jai said, forming the lie on his lips. ‘Our forces are at least evenly matched, if not tipping in our favour. And our men have not been ridden hard, day and night to reach here.’

Now Teji’s eyes widened.

‘You... you ally with the Tainted?’ he demanded. ‘Never have I... that you would stoop so low.’

Jai merely shrugged, a twinge of conflicted pity twisting inside him as Nazeem averted his gaze.

‘No, you stooped much lower, in that you enriched yourself at the expense of the Kidara. Again, though, that’s of no matter. Because you look through a prejudiced lens. I see no Tainted here,’ Jai said, his voice steel. ‘Only seasoned warriors. More, I know your men fear them, whatever their provenance.’

He turned to the nobles flanking Teji, his gaze hard.

‘These men behind you are loyal to their oaths, which is more than can be said of you. They will question now whether they owe loyalty to one who would betray his own blood. To die for your lie. So I ask you: are you sure they will shed the blood of their brethren for it?’

The Tejinder nobles’ eyes flickered uneasily, some bristling, others averting their gazes. Shame lurked within many of their eyes.

‘It’s not too late,’ Jai added softly, such that only those close might hear. ‘You were given an impossible choice, ensnared by the lies of a usurper. I can forgive that. I offer you what Teji pretends to offer me, but with no demands. No tax, no punishments. All will be as it was.’

‘He lies,’ Teji snapped. ‘He’ll cut you down where you stand. Would you join a tribe that rubs shoulders with the Tainted? You would be... you would be Tainted like the rest of them!’

Nazeem laid a hand on Teji’s shoulder, and leaned in to whisper, cupping a hand around his king’s ear. Even to Jai’s soulbound ears, it was a serpent’s breath, too soft for him to hear.

‘What are your terms?’ Nazeem asked, after Teji gave a curt nod.

‘You vow never to wage war against me again,’ Jai said, his words slicing through the tension. ‘You leave your weapons and khiroi here. You can retain your banners and your battle garb. Those nobles that wish to rejoin me can remain and retain all that is theirs. We will send riders ahead of you, to return their families and belongings.’

‘You expect us to walk back?’ Teji snapped. ‘In all our armour? Your offer is laughable.’

‘We’ll give you thirty khiroi,’ Jai allowed, after a moment’s thought. ‘Of our choice. To carry your belongings. I’m sure you can buy more.’

‘Never,’ Teji snarled.

‘Then you can meet your end here,’ Jai said. ‘Or wait it out. I doubt the mountain of gold you abandoned would attract any unwanted attention. Perhaps I should dispatch some men to retrieve it instead, while you ponder. It seems I have riders to spare.’

Teji faltered. Jai watched as the old lecher’s mind turned. The mention of gold had sparked something within the man, exposing the corrupt core that had consumed him.

‘We keep the gold?’ he asked.

‘My word is my bond,’ Jai said. ‘That is more than I can say of you.’

Teji thought on it. His eyes swivelled in their sockets, as he surreptitiously looked at the enemy surrounding him. For a long time, he had basked in a life of extravagant luxuries, offloading the burden of decision-making onto Nazeem’s shoulders. But now, faced with an uncertain future, something in Teji had been dislodged. The thought of losing his amassed gold seemed to have done the trick.

Squaring his shoulders, he finally said, ‘A hundred khiroi. My camp is extensive. We will be stranded with any less.’

In response, Jai’s gaze hardened. He was not about to be swindled, but to walk away with a bloodless victory was beyond tempting.

‘Fifty,’ he countered. ‘I’m sure the traders will be happy to take some of your baggage off your hands. And you keep two Alkharas too.’

A moment of silence lingered before Teji replied, his bitter voice barely a whisper.

‘Done.’