Continued from Chapter 6 - Part III
| Dramatis Personae |
Nabati:
Mun'at Ha'Qadri: General of the Nabati army, tasked with uniting the tribes of Arabia and subduing the Saba' confederations that control Arabia Felix.
Shullai Ha'Maleki: Prince of the Nabati, riding south under Mun'at's command.
Ravîv'êl Bikrum: Crown Prince of the Nabati. Currently governing the conquered settlement of Dedan.
Malka Qênu: King of the Nabati, and leader of the united tribes.
Rana'in: Elder warrior and long-time friend of Mun'at.
Khalil: Raider under Mun'at's command, usually tasked with leading the cavalry and light skirmishers.
Haza'el: Captain of the Nabati.
Wayyuq: A spy and pathfinder in the service of the Nabati, but not of their tribe.
Sabeans (Saba'):
Mubsamat: Queen of the Saba' with ambitions to end the tribal rivalries that plague her people.
Tharin: Captain of Mubsamat's guard, tasked with contacting the approaching Nabati on Mubsamat's behalf and bringing them over to her cause.
Zaadi Il'Bayyin: Often referred to as "Lord of the Northpass", Zaadi is a Qayl (higher official) of the Saba', and the ringleader of a group of nobles arrayed against Mubsamat.
Halik Il'Yakif: Landowner and noble of the Saba' who initially followed Zaadi's plans but has since been turned by Mubsamat.
Far'am Rafshan: Half-Qatabani exile who was in league with Zaadi Il'Bayyin, until Zaadi killed him.
Karab: Son of the Athtar Yazi' clan and great leader of the Hashidi warriors of the northern plateau. He is also in league with Zaadi against Mubsamat.
Hasan: Deceased brother of Karab.
|
Chapter 6
The Highest Eagles
--------------------------------------------------
(Part IV)
Zaadi looked out over the darkened encampment, the pale moon above illuminating the lighter hues of the tents while casting all else in shade. The night was far advanced already, the few watchmen's fires on the plain below burned down to embers, and a gentle quiet lay over the land. Here and there a pair of sentries would briefly exchange hushed words, or a nighthawk call out to its prey, but aside from such passing interruptions, the only sounds to be heard were the somber melodies of the breeze brushing across the darkened earth.
His eyes sweeping over the hushed country, finally resting on the horizon where the first blush of dawn was beginning to paint the sky, Zaadi leaned forward, resting his elbows atop the ramparts before him. He was all but alone on the crest of the battlements, but he knew that in the courtyard and keep the last warriors of his tribe were readying themselves for a final stand. There were no longer many of them left, and by all right they should have received aid, from the Hashidis under Karab's command, from the Houthis of the outer passes, or from any of a dozen lesser clans. But Zaadi's allies did not know of his plight, and so they would not come to his assistance. He and his men were alone in the fight that lay ahead.
The half-Qatabani had completed their preparations, and the fields before Zaadi's fortress were dotted with towers, rams, and the odd cross-hatched pattern of ladders lying upon the ground. They were ready, waiting only for the rising of the sun, at which point they would attack. Zaadi was certain of that. And so he had bade all his men to prepare themselves, to have weapons in hand when the horns sounded and the battle began. Or at least he had bade nearly all of his men to be ready.
The Lord of the Northpass leaned further forward, squinting against the dark, and finally he spied that for which he had been searching. Far out over the plain, just before the besiegers' camp, could be seen a number of small shadows shifting in purposeful unison. As they reached the brink of the enemy force they slowed, halted briefly, and then began moving again, sliding wide around the dull red rings of the near dead watchmen's fires. Zaadi watched intently, half-holding his breath, but his lips slid into a smile as he marked how the shades began to descend upon the long pillars of night that lay scattered about the plain, the heavy shadows cast by the towers and rams.
Zaadi waited a moment longer, and when finally he felt certain, he turned to a bowman standing beside him. The sun would rise soon, and now was their last chance. The Lord of the Northpass nodded to the archer, and the man strung an arrow, the tip of its shaft wrapped in linen and soaked in oil. He then held the narrow stripe of wood to the flame of a torch fixed to the wall beside him, and shot the fiery brand across the sky.
With the signal's flight, a number of things then happened in a remarkably short span of time. First, there arose a great cry from the half-blood watchmen on the plain below. Then, before the last sentry's voice had called out in alarm, there appeared small flarings of light all throughout the besiegers' encampment, each flash springing up at the base of one of the towers or rams which so recently had had their shadows deepened by the presence of cloaked figures. One by one, and yet seemingly all together, the minuscule sparks then erupted into blooms of radiance as the dry timber of the siege engines caught. The fires spread with violence, leaping from the wooden structures to the canvas tents surrounding them, and in an instant the half-Qatabani's temporary home was in utter disarray as they sought to quell the blaze sweeping over them. And in the chaos that ensued, the half-blood tribals hardly noticed when a score of men slipped past their outer sentries, heading in the direction of Zaadi's fortress.
It took his saboteurs but a short time to cross the flat dusty plain, and before long they were walking beneath the wide arch of the main gatehouse, the rising sun gilding their forms in flashing gold. Zaadi descended the walls to greet them, to commend their bold actions, and when he reached the citadel's courtyard he saw them already receiving the praise and goodwill of the soldiers waiting there. The Lord of the Northpass pressed through the throng of men, moving toward the small group who risked and achieved so much, their numbers distinguished by the sweat on their brows and the soot and dust that stained their hands and faces. As Zaadi neared them, he was gladdened to see that none were harmed, and that seemingly all who were sent had returned, when he caught the eyes of the captain of the band of saboteurs.
The man's gaze was heavy, his shoulders slack. All around him were joyous greetings, but a cloud hung over his countenance, unmoved by the merriment of the other Saba' warriors. Zaadi stepped toward him without hesitation. "What is wrong?" he asked simply.
On hearing his lord speaking, the captain looked up, and his eyes, which before were distant, slowly came into focus. "Four of my men are missing." he answered in dead tones.
At first, Zaadi said nothing in response, but he reached out and laid a hand on the man's shoulder, squeezing gently. After a brief moment so, he then opened his mouth to speak, but whatever message he may have been about to give was cut short when horns were heard blaring over the plain, the sound of their blasts ricocheting off the mountains behind the fortress. The noise was deafening and terrible, and over its din the Lord of the Northpass shouted as loud as he could. "To the walls!" he cried, punctuating his words with a rattle of his spear. Zaadi then turned and bounded up the rickety wooden stair leading to the battlements.
In an instant he was again looking down upon the plain, this time with the accompaniment of all of his men, but the sight Zaadi now beheld was not the one he had so recently left. The sharp shadows cast by the rams and towers had been replaced by hazy shifting columns of shade, the result of the billowing smoke which blocked the light of the rising sun. And where before the long plain was still, it now shook with the motion of the entire army that filled it. The half-Qatabani tribes were advancing.
Zaadi's men had destroyed the greater part of their enemy's siege engines, but he saw with worry that still remained a small number of towers, and perhaps a score of ladders as well. They possessed the means to gain his walls, and they clearly meant to use them. With every minute the warriors of the late Far'am moved closer, murder and vengeance in their eyes, until finally, just beyond the range of Zaadi's bowmen, they halted. They laid aside their horns, and silence again washed over the plain.
Zaadi Il'Bayyin, the Lord of the Northpass, leaned forward, peering up and down the ranks that spread before him, searching for the reason why they had stayed their march. The foremost spear- and swordsmen stood shoulder to shoulder, forming a single unbroken line that stretched nearly as long as Zaadi's walls, and there was nothing in their dispositions to explain their hesitance; they had the power to swarm over his fortress with ease. Looking past them to the bowmen and slingers behind provided equally little knowledge. Then, near the center of the enemy formation, a narrow opening formed, through which walked perhaps a dozen men. They strode out their heads high, shoulders thrust back in arrogant pride, but Zaadi hardly noticed them. Instead, his eyes were fixed on four shambling figures being herded along by the company surrounding them. They were covered in dirt and blood, and whenever one fell, he was given a series of kicks and curses before being roughly hauled back to his feet and pushed forward once more.
With a note of helplessness in his eyes, Zaadi watched as the missing saboteurs were driven before the half-Qatabani warriors, until mercifully the small party halted. They had come within shouting distance of the fortress walls, and one of the enemy's number stepped forward. "The lord of this place has committed evil against us," he cried out, his words oddly clear, "and we have come for justice." The man then turned briefly to pull forward one of the saboteurs, who was pushed to his knees before the half-blood soldier. "Blood for blood," he continued, "that is the way. But my people know honor, and we would not kill true warriors while the craven noble responsible stands free."
"Then what do you want?" Zaadi shouted down.
The man's eyes, burning from behind, flashed to him. "So you are the one who killed Far'am." he said coldly. "Then it is you that we seek. And what we want is for you to quit your citadel and give yourself over to us. If you do not, all that you hold dear will burn."
Zaadi gazed down in silence, and he felt something he had not before. He felt unsure of himself. There were so many of them, twice the number of his men, and more, and they were driven by vengeance and hate, wellsprings of might whose power Zaadi knew well. The half-Qatabani before him could take the battlements, and if they did, not a man there would survive to see the sun set. He was sure of it.
Zaadi Il'Bayyin, who called himself a lord, looked left and right at the soldiers standing beside him, and suddenly he felt very small. He was only a man. One man. He knew that. And the tribes of Far'am's people would destroy everything about him simply to have the chance to destroy him as well. Yet he could stay their hands. All he had to do was forsake himself, and in that final act he could spare the warriors of his tribes from the doom that now awaited them. To provide such a gift was in his power, and that act would indeed be lordly.
As Zaadi considered what to do, there lay over the length and breadth of the plain a hush, an absence of sound so complete that it seemed fit to swallow all song and speech unto the ending of the world. And then, from high above in the mountains, came the piercing cry of a great eagle. In that moment of still, its call was immense, and the terror of its voice shocked Zaadi back to himself. He was the Lord of the Northpass. He thought to himself. Him and no other. And even if he were to go freely with the half-blood rabble that dared to challenge him, there was no guarantee they would keep their word. After all, they were little more than up-jumped shepherds and bandits parading as men, and they knew nothing of civilization or decency.
His eyes hardened and he leaned forward against the ramparts. "I and these men do fear the likes of you," he called out in imperious tones, "for we are sons of the Saba'. You... you are nothing but vagabonds, and if you try yourselves against us, you will break to the last. So leave now, if you are wise, or if not, do your worst, and see what it avails you!"
Below him, the man stood in silence, disgust and disbelief traced in the lines of his face. He then flashed his gaze left and right over the men lining the fortress walls. "Noble soldiers of the Saba'," shouted the half-Qatabani, "know that what comes next is not of our making. It is the price to be paid by those who would follow in the footsteps of a coward and murderer." He then pulled a long curved blade from his belt and slashed the arms and legs of captured saboteur that still knelt before him. The wounds were deep, but they would not kill quickly, and the man's screams echoed off the walls and mountains. With the wails still ringing in each man's ears, the half-Qatabani then stepped to another of the captured Saba'. "Give up your murdering lord!" he bellowed, fire in his eyes, and he slashed the second prisoner, doubling the cacophony of cruelty. However, Zaadi and the others upon the walls remained unmoved. In answer to their silence, the half-Qatabani proceeded without mercy to the next of his captives. His demand was repeated, as was his punishment, and when Zaadi still did nothing, the warrior on the plain moved forward a pace. He looked from the three slowly dying men to the noble on the walls, and suddenly his brow creased in sadness and pity. His gaze fell to his hands, to his fingers dripping with blood.
"They are as he," he muttered to himself in mournful tones, "demons in the garb of men." The half-Qatabani then turned and stepped toward the final captive. The man's eyes were wide with fear, but the bloodied warrior set aside his blade and gently untied the prisoner's bonds. When the cords had been undone, he then held the Saba' soldier's hands in his and spoke softly. "You risked much to sabotage our weapons," he began, "and your courage and strength of will makes the gods smile upon you. Yet what of those you serve? Your lord would watch you die in the dust rather than answer for his own sins." The man shook his head, adding, "But I have slain enough brave men this day. You are free, and wherever you might go, we will not stand in your way."
The Saba' soldier looked from Zaadi's fortress to the besiegers' camp, and after a moment he nodded to the half-blood warrior before him. He then ran as fast as he could toward the east, away from the noble who had refused to save him. The warriors upon the plain watched as he bounded past, but none moved to stay him. Their word had been given, and for poor men of the desert, it was oft the only thing of value they possessed, and so it would not be traded in poor faith. Zaadi, however, was unimpressed by the small act of kindness, and as soon as the freed captive was out of sight, he made his sentiments known.
"Bastard sons of a half-blood tribe," he shouted down venomously, "do you really think we are fools enough to be taken in by such tricks? You cut down three men in cold blood, and your release of the fourth does nothing to erase such deeds. And know this as well," he called even more loudly, "all of you will die for the barbarism you have shown this day, and none will mourn your passing from this world!"
The half-Qatabani warrior and executioner stared up for a moment, but he did not respond. Instead, he simply turned and began walking the short distance back to his lines, his head shaking all the while. When he reached the ranks of his men, he then called out a series of orders, the commands being relayed from man to man down the length of their force, and slowly the besieging army began to move forward, pushing their few towers toward the low walls of Zaadi's fortress. Their battle for the northpass was beginning.
Continue to Chapter 6 - Part V
Re: Written in Sand (Nabataean AAR for EBII)[updated: Jan 15]
Reply With Quote
Originally Posted by Cookiegod
On the whole, two great maps that will considerably help us navigate Mun'at's journey through Southern Arabia.
