The Desert Spear (33 page)

'O great Shar'Dama Ka,' the man said, groveling. 'I am unworthy of your notice.'

'Have no fear, my brother,' Jardir said, laying a gentle hand on the terrified man's shoulder. 'I have no tribe. No caste. I stand for all Krasia,
dama, Sharum,
and
khaffit
alike.'

The tension in the man seemed to ease at Jardir's words. 'Tell me, why do you wear the tan, brother''

'I am a coward, Deliverer,' the man said, his voice tightening with shame. 'My will broke on my first night in the Maze. I cut my tether, and I'ran from my
ajin'pal.
' He began to weep, and Jardir let it run its course. Then he squeezed the man's shoulder, making him look up.

'You may walk behind me on my tour of the bazaar,' he said, and the man gasped in shock. 'The earless one, as well,' Jardir told Abban, who made more signs to the giant. The two men fell obediently in behind Abban and Jardir, followed by all who had witnessed the event, man and woman. Even the vendors left their wares unattended to walk behind the Deliverer.

Everywhere he looked, Jardir saw more and more fit men in the tan, each with his own reasons for being denied the black. None dared lie to him when pressed as to why.

'I was sickly as a child,' one said.

'I cannot see colors,' another said.

'My father bribed the
dama
to overlook me,' a third dared admit.

'I need lenses for my eyes,' many told him, and others had been thrown from the
sharaj
simply for being left-handed.

Jardir squeezed the shoulder of each one, and gave them permission to follow him. Before long, a huge crowd trailed him, sweeping everyone it passed up in its wake. Finally, Jardir looked back at them all, a throng of thousands, and nodded. He leapt atop a vendor's cart to stand above the crowd, looking over the women and
khaffit.

'I am Ahmann asu Hoshkamin am'Jardir asu Kaji!' he cried, holding up the Spear of Kaji. 'I am Shar'Dama Ka!' The crowd roared in response, startling Jardir with a strength and power he had never dreamed existed.

'Everam has charged me with destroying the
alagai,
' Jardir shouted, 'but to do that I need
Sharum
!' He swept his hand out over the crowd. 'I see among you fit men who were denied the spear as children, forcing you to live in shame and poverty as your brothers and cousins walked in Everam's glory. Putting shame upon your parents and children, as well.'

The men Jardir had asked to follow him were nodding and agreeing with his words. 'We have the magic to destroy the
alagai
now,' he said. 'Our spears skewer them by the hundreds, but we have more spears than men to carry them. And so I offer you all this second chance! Any able-bodied
khaffit
who wishes to join in
alagai'sharak
may present himself to the training grounds tomorrow, where every tribe shall raise a
khaffit'sharaj
to train you. Those who complete the training shall be named
kha'Sharum,
and given warded weapons to buy your way back to glory and Heaven for yourselves and your families!'

There was a shocked silence as his words sank in. Men who had spent their lives under the heel of the
Sharum,
bent and toiling under the weight of their caste, began to straighten their backs. Jardir could see into their minds, it seemed, as they imagined the glory that might await them, the chance for a better life.

'Sharak Ka is coming!' Jardir shouted. 'There is honor enough for all in the Great War. Who among you will swear to fight it alongside me''

The first man Jardir had asked to follow him, the one who had run from his
ajin'pal
in the Maze, pushed to the front of the crowd, kneeling.

'Deliverer,' he said, 'my heart has been heavy since my failure in the Maze. I beg you for a second chance.' Jardir reached down with the Spear of Kaji, touching his shoulder.

'Rise,
kha'Sharum,
' Jardir said.

The man did as he was bade, but before he had risen fully, a spear struck him in the back. Jardir caught him before he could fall, looking deep into his eyes as he coughed a gout of blood.

'You are saved,' Jardir told him. 'The gates of Heaven will be open to you, brother.'

The man smiled as the light left his eyes, and Jardir set him down, looking at the spear jutting from his back. It was one of the short, close-quarter weapons favored by Nanji Watchers.

Jardir looked up and saw three Nanji approaching, holding short spears in one hand and weighted lines in the other. Though it was day, their night veils were drawn, hiding their faces.

'You go too far, Sharum Ka, offering spears to
khaffit,
' one of the warriors called.

'We must end your life,' another agreed.

They began to advance, but several
khaffit
broke from the crowd, moving to stand protectively in front of Jardir.

The Nanji laughed. 'It was foolish of you to leave your palace without a bodyguard,' one said. 'These
khaffit
cannot protect you.'

It wasn't surprising that the warriors thought the women and
khaffit
no threat, but Jardir, having felt the crowd's power just a moment before, wasn't so sure. Even so, he would ask no one to die needlessly for his sake.

Project invincibility,
Inevera said,
and even the bravest assassin may reconsider his course.

'Clear their path!' Jardir shouted as he leapt down from the cart. The startled men stepped aside immediately.

'You think three warriors can kill me'' Jardir laughed. 'If a hundred Nanji skulk in the shadows, I would need no more bodyguard than now.' He rested the point of the Spear of Kaji down in the dirt and threw out his chest, inviting attack. 'I am Shar'Dama Ka!' he cried, feeling the rightness of the words. 'Strike at me if you dare!'

The Nanji approached, but Jardir could see hesitation in them now. His very presence unnerved them. Their spears shook in their hands, and they glanced to one another uncertainly as if to decide which should lead the attack.

'Strike or kneel!' Jardir roared. He brought up the Spear of Kaji, and the bright metal caught the sunlight and seemed to flare with power.

One of the Nanji warriors dropped his spear and fell to his knees. 'Traitor!' the one next to him cried, turning to stab at him, but the third was quicker, darting in and putting his spear through the aggressor's chest.

There was a creak behind Jardir. A whisper of sandal on canvas. Knowing Nanji tactics, he turned around, looking up at the true assassin, crouched hidden atop the pavilion behind him. This Watcher should have struck while Jardir was distracted by the others, ensuring a kill.

Their eyes met, but Jardir said nothing, waiting. After a moment, the man threw down his spear and somersaulted down after it, kneeling at Jardir's feet.

Jardir went to the fallen man, pulling the spear free of his back and holding it up for all to see. 'This is not
khaffit
blood!' he cried. 'This is the blood of a warrior, the first
kha'Sharum,
and I will lacquer his skull and add it to my throne to remember him always.' He looked out at the
khaffit.
'Will any step forth to take his place''

There was a dissonant moan, and the seven-foot deaf giant pushed to the front of the crowd, kneeling at Jardir's feet. Others quickly followed, and there was a frantic press to kneel before Jardir. As Jardir touched each in turn, Abban seized an opportunity to speak.

'Fear not, those of you who cannot carry a spear from age or infirmity!' he cried. 'Fear not, you women, you children! The Deliverer needs more than just
Sharum
! He needs weavers to make nets and smiths for spearheads. Canvas for the
kha'Sharum
pavilion, and food for its warriors. Come to my pavilion on the morrow, if you wish to put aid to Krasia's glory and bring honor to your families!'

Jardir frowned, knowing Abban acted as much to profit from cheap labor as to aid in the war, but he did not contradict him. The labor would be needed if they were to march in a year.

The crowd began to chant his name as Jardir continued to touch men with the Spear of Kaji and name them
kha'Sharum.
Soon it thundered from the bazaar, echoing throughout the city.

'Jardir! Jardir! Jardir!'

'Masterfully done,' Abban said in his ear when he had touched the last
khaffit.
'You've bought ten thousand warriors and twice as many slaves for naught but a taste of self-respect.'

'Is that all you see with your merchant's heart'' Jardir asked, looking at him. 'A business transaction''

Abban at least had the decency to look ashamed, though Jardir doubted it was sincere.

The next day, two thousand men presented themselves at the training grounds, as the tribes were still erecting
khaffit'sharaj.
A week later, the number had tripled. A week after that, a steady stream flowed in from the outer villages as men who had been
khaffit
for ten generations came to break their caste, bringing their families with them to share in the war effort. In less than a month, Jardir tripled the size of his army, and the city swelled with people as it hadn't in decades.

'Next summer,' Jardir said again as Abban finished his morning tallies.

'The greenlanders will still outnumber us greatly,' Abban said.

Jardir nodded. 'Perhaps, but the best of the Northern weaklings will not be able to stand up to even a
kha'Sharum
by then.'

'How many will you leave here, to secure the Desert Spear'' Ashan asked.

'None,' Jardir said, drawing looks of surprise from all in the room, even Inevera.

'You will take every warrior'' Aleverak asked. 'Who will defend the city''

'Not just every warrior, Damaji,' Jardir said. 'Every
one.
We must leave the Sunlit Land behind. All of us. Even the old. Even the crippled and sick. Every man, woman, and child, city dwellers and villagers alike. We will empty the Desert Spear and lock its gates behind us, letting its impregnable walls stand in defiance of the
alagai
until we choose to reclaim it.'

Aleverak's eyes lit up with a fanatical gleam.

'This is a dangerous plan, Deliverer,' Ashan warned. 'Our army will move at a crawl when it must be swift.'

'At first perhaps,' Jardir said. 'But we will need to hold the green lands we conquer, without leaving troops behind. Everam set the
khaffit
in the Land of Sun the same as us. In the green lands, a
khaffit
who follows the Evejah will still rank above the
chin.
Let them settle in our wake, holding the land for Everam as the
Sharum
march on.'

Jardir saw Inevera fingering her
alagai hora
pouch absently. She would excuse herself to throw the dice as soon as the audience was over, but Jardir had no doubt they would confirm his course. The rightness of it sang within him, and even Abban nodded his approval.

'When will you tell the other
Damaji
'' Ashan asked.

'Not until we're ready to leave,' Jardir said, 'giving Enkaji and the others no time to oppose the decision. I want the great gate at everyone's back before they have their bearings.'

'And from there'' Abban asked. 'Fort Rizon''

Jardir shook his head. 'First, Anoch Sun. Then the green lands.'

'You have found the lost city'' Abban asked.

Jardir gestured to a table covered in maps. 'It was never truly lost. There were detailed maps in Sharik Hora all along. We simply stopped going there after the Return.'

'Unbelievable,' Abban said.

Jardir looked at him. 'What I don't understand is how the Par'chin found it. Searching the desert would take a lifetime. He must have had help. Who would he have gone to in search of that''

Abban shrugged. 'There are a hundred merchants in the bazaar claiming to sell maps to Anoch Sun.'

'Forgeries,' Jardir said.

'Not all, apparently,' Abban said.

Jardir knew the
khaffit
could dance between truth and lie as easily as a man might breathe in and out. '
Inevera,
' he said at last, holding up the Spear of Kaji. 'No thing happens, but that Everam wills it.'

ANOCH SUN

332 AR

THE OASIS OF DAWN was a place of great beauty, a series of warded sandstone monoliths protecting a wide grassy area, several clusters of fruit trees, and a broad pool of fresh, clean water, fed by the same underground river that supplied the Desert Spear. There was a stair cut into the
ala
beneath one monolith, leading to a torchlit underground chamber where a man could cast nets into the river and easily catch a feast.

It was a small oasis, meant as a way station for merchant caravans but more often used by lone Messengers. It was, of course, never meant to supply the greatest army the world had seen in centuries.

Jardir's host fell upon it like locusts, surrounding the monoliths with thousands of tents and pavilions. Before most of the Krasians had even arrived, the trees were stripped of fruit and cut for firewood, the grasses mown clean by grazing livestock and trampled flat. Thousands of men wading into the pool to wash their feet and fill their skins left only a fetid, muddy puddle in their wake. They cast nets in the underground fishing chamber, but what would have been a rich catch to a caravan was not even a morsel to the Krasian horde.