Page 79

J ai circled above his tribe, making sure no gryphons lurked on the horizon, before making his descent.

He was a mess, he knew. Ragged, topless, and filthy, for the Caelite did little more than scrub themselves with snow, and his shirt had long been lost in the climb. But he’d had no time to ready himself. Hardly time to collect his things, or give Erica a proper goodbye, her promise to come to the High Council almost snatched away by the wind.

The wheels of the world were turning. And he was coming to realise he could be the axle that drove them. He had done all he needed in the mountains. It was far past the time for his return.

Winter began her descent, eager for the food she had so missed – apparently curried khiroi was preferred to the hoary goats of the mountain.

Jai could see the upturned faces of his people, a thousand smiles, hundreds of hands raised to greet him. The plaza was thronging, and he headed for the empty fighting circle at its centre, guiding Winter with a thought and a stroke of her neck.

They landed gracefully, Winter’s wings furling, and Jai stood upon his saddle as the people gathered, their cheers not just for his return but with the assumption their khan had returned rited.

And they were right. For Jai raised the sack strapped to the saddle and delved within to reveal his prize. He pulled forth the helmet of the Gryphon Guard, sooty and gory though it was.

He held it aloft, and the crowd’s cheers grew louder. Jai let it tumble from his fingers, though, and the cheers faltered. He smiled mischievously, and reached in again, yanking free the feathered head of the gryphon. This is what he had asked Erica to wait for after he’d taken the soulgem. An offering for the Mother, to his peoples.

‘With this blood,’ Jai roared, above the shouting throngs, ‘I join my people.’

They roared back, a wall of noise and fists punching the air. Jai leaped down, sticking the head upon a bamboo spear from a rack, holding it aloft for all to see. Hands pulled at him, people shoving gifts and foods, their smiling faces all awash with awe. He pushed through the throngs, even as guards cleared a path towards his tent.

He was surprised by the adulation, but only for a moment. Because he understood that he was more than a prince returned in their eyes. He was a man , a true member of the tribe reborn. Too, never had his people seen him fly, and he could see that he had grown beyond a mere curiosity in their minds. It was one thing to keep Winter close, like a well-fed leopard on a chain. But to ride her, as they did the khiroi... that was true mastery of a wild and fearsome beast.

Jai was back, but so was the Kidaran khan, bloodied and proven and powerful.

It was a heady thought, and when he reached his tent, Jai stabbed the spear into the dirt, letting all the plaza see what happened to his enemies. Once more they cheered, and he looked at the crowd that had followed him, taking it all in. He turned then, moving past the guards and away from the grasping hands of his people, back into the soft, silent world of his royal tent.

It was a wonder to be somewhere that wasn’t a cave. Outside, Winter remained, guarding the entrance, distracted though she was by the foods that piled like religious offerings at her feet. Jai salivated at the familiar scents that greeted her.

It had been a long time since Jai had eaten anything, reliant on mana alone. That was the first thing he’d call for. Then a bath, and his Small Council.

Jai stretched, glad of the full core he had harvested from the fountain before his departure. He had let mana leak out to soothe his aches on the flight, for he was not yet used to riding Winter in the saddle.

Every now and again, he still entered the trance to glance at his new core. It was glorious, and contained a deep well of mana, so large he could hardly believe it possible. In time, the Gryphon Guard would come in numbers he could not handle. But with the power he now held... and some help from the soulbound among his tribe, they might just hold their own against one of them. Two, with the element of surprise.

At least, for now. And with the Caelite spreading his call for the High Council, so too would they bring the message of the slaughtered Great Tribe. Already, he knew, word of Rohan’s son’s return would have spread. And now rited, he was as legitimate as any other khan that rode the steppes.

‘Jai!’

Feng was first through the door, Sindri and Harleen pushing through a few steps behind. More clamoured at the flapping entrance, but it seemed the guards would not let them through. Still, every now and then, a hand reached through the partition or a guard’s leg as he braced against the crowds, only to be snatched back. They all wanted a piece of him, and he didn’t blame them. He’d been gone so long. And yet...

Jai collapsed onto his throne, wishing for just a moment’s peace. He knew, though, time was short. It was the late afternoon, and he had much to set in motion before the day was out.

‘I take it I have passed the Rite?’ Jai asked, too tired for formal greetings.

‘You’re a madman for taking on a Gryphon Knight,’ Harleen said, shaking her head in awe. ‘But it is undeniable, and any who might have doubted have already come to me professing their admiration.’

‘And to curry favour,’ Feng muttered.

‘It’s the way of kings,’ Harleen responded, turning back to Jai. ‘You are khan now in more than name alone.’

She bowed low, and Jai inclined his head, wishing Winter was there beside him. This room held memories of his long hours, ruling in the dim light. He remembered when he had not left for days, so long was the queue of those that needed his judgement. That would only increase now that the people actually respected him as rited. Too, there was surely now a backlog that would need to be addressed. Which he would – just not now.

‘I want a full accounting of our soldiers by morning,’ Jai instructed Harleen. ‘Real numbers, every soldier we can field on the back of a khiro with a few weeks’ training. I want lists of armour, weapons, experience – everything you know.’

‘It is done, my khan,’ she said.

‘Sindri,’ Jai said. ‘I need you to gather the soulbound among us, and have them training under Kiran and Meera. If we are to defeat the Gryphon Guard without the Caelite to aid us, I will have need of their skills. They must work on their ascension. Magnus’s men may rule the skies, but we will keep them from the patch above us even if we have to set the sky afire to do it.’

‘Of course,’ Sindri said.

‘Feng, how many traders do we have with us?’

‘Only a few, my khan,’ Feng replied, awkwardly formal in the presence of the others. ‘Lai and her ilk still follow; the rest departed soon after you did.’

Jai steepled his fingers.

‘Figure out how much gold we can spare,’ Jai said. ‘And sell every luxury I have. Then go to Lai and have her send word to her friends among the traders of the steppe. Tell them the Kidara tribe are buying for war.’

‘War?’ Harleen asked.

‘Where should I tell them to find us?’ Feng asked. ‘Do we ride east, west?’

‘We ride for the Blue Mesa on the morrow. I have summoned a High Council.’

AFTER A FEW MORE hours of instructions and petitions that could not wait, Jai had dismissed his advisers. He meant to rest then, but found he was buzzing, unable to simply fall asleep. There was too much still to do, too much in doubt, and he wondered if they’d accomplish it all in time.

For some reason – maybe it was the focus on logistics, of running a war – but his mind turned to the diary. Meena had brought it back to him, and he looked at it now, sitting on the table. Although he rarely found much of use from Leonid’s musings, the kernels he did glean were often worth their weight in khiroi.

He picked up the book, finding where he left off, and read.

Forgive my scattered thoughts and crooked pen, oh, Leonid, of years to come. I am weary, for I joined my men in training to lift their spirits, and my body is not what it once was. But I suppose at the time of reading, you will know this well enough, future self.

We survive another day. This Rohan has cobbled together an alliance that will break me if I am not careful. Three legions may not be enough to fight the horde that follows us as we retreat back across the grasslands.

I have seen their great birds in the sky, and the mammoths on the horizon. The latter set my men’s tongues wagging like the tails of scared pups. But I have faced these beasts’ bald cousins in the desert plains of Shambalai. They will fall like any other animal. Soon enough, they will be no more than petty marvels for the Colosseum.

We return not in fear, but because my men are near mutiny. Imagine a year without the touch of a woman. A year of boiled grains and heathen savages your neighbour. No. It is time we left this place.

I am beginning to think these lands are not worth the trouble. What need have we of grass? But the people... that is another thing. My lands are vast, and someone must work the soil. Constantine says we should fetter them all, still green in his defeat.

Still, to the present. With all of Rufus’s gryphons ferrying us food, their raids stalled, there is no point in festering amid this grass, waiting for the enemy to grow some balls and fight us in open battle. A siege is not a siege if the fortress can move. We rebuild our camp each night, and march in battle dress throughout the day, cutting our way through the grasslands. It is gruelling, but the men have no alternative. They are just happy that we march in a homeward direction.

It is clear to me now that I must return to where my supply lines are no longer in danger, and Rufinus’s men can return to what they do best. Only when they act in savagery does this Rohan seem to baulk.

He closed the book. He knew he was on the right track. The Gryphon Guard only knew barbarism. Violence on the scale of being atrocity. That was all Leonid had in his favour, and all Magnus had now. Leonid had been so close to giving it all up if it hadn’t been for his gryphons.

I’ll just have to make it that way for the Sabines again.