Continued from Chapter 1 - Part VII
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 on a mission to distract the Lihyanites by capturing Tayma.
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.
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Chapter 2
First Moves
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(Part I)
As they left Tabuk, Edum, and the lands of the Nabati, Mun'at's army first traveled east. It was his intention that they take the Green Valley, Wadi Akhdar, as far into Lihyan as they could, using its wells and fertile vales to supply themselves. With no word from Ravîv'êl Bikrum, nor any expectation of news before they reached Dedan, Mun'at chose to err towards caution, miserly clinging to his supplies and instead taking what the land might readily afford. However, he made clear by command and thinly veiled threats that his men were not to take more than any village or tribe could spare, that they were to always offer at least some form of recompense, and that they were to treat those they met as they would fellow countrymen, as members of their own clan. They were coming as conquerors indeed, but they hoped that one day these men might aid them in war against the arrogant Greeks and it would not do to sow the seeds of future betrayal. Besides, the petty tribes of El Houl, Jabal Lebda, and Jabal Ugila, fringe peoples only marginally connected to the nearby Arabian powers, had since time immemorial been raided by both Nabati and Lihyanite parties. A friendly force bearing promises of future peace and potential wealth might well be given guidance, a measure of wine, and not least of all, unmolested passage.
As they neared Wadi Akhdar Mun'at's anticipation slowly grew. He repeatedly urged his mount forward, playfully chided the footmen for going so slowly, or led his companions and the nearby units in song, heedless of any enemies that might hear. Once before as a young man he had traveled the length of the Green Valley, and his recollections dispelled all fear and caution, impelling him onward toward the cool embrace of low orchards and closely spaced wells and pools. When finally they reached the valley he was glad to see his memory had served him well.
Before them a narrowing cleft opened, sheets of blasted sun-baked sandstone rising to either side, but between these comfortless ridges spread a carpet of lush verdure capped in the spreading crowns of fig, olive, and palm trees. While many among the desert tribes still led wanderers' lives, those along Wadi Akhdar had long ago given up the nomad's ways, choosing instead to call one place home, and the long canyon was dotted with dozens of close groups of low earthen huts. Their distribution and organization at first seemed almost artfully haphazard, but upon closer inspection Mun'at noticed the subtle signs that marked the transitions between one family and the next, and the less regular gaps denoting the presence of an entirely separate tribe. The only exceptions to this silent and unspoken agreement were the ponds and pools which periodically graced the valley floor and appeared to be by common assent the property of all.
As they moved into this cool and somewhat unexpected landscape Mun'at's men became increasingly tranquil, quietly chatting with one another and laughing gaily at small private jokes. Here and there a company might even begin to tarry alongside a pool a bit longer in order to allow their mounts and pack animals to drink, or even to let the men splash about like children in the muddy waters, but soon enough they would move on, making room for those behind who had yet to enjoy Al-Akhdar's comforts. There were others still who walked silently, wide-eyed and disbelieving that a wadi could be so green, so full of life. Across the harsh Sinai and from Edum to the Hadramawt there lay thousands of ravines and gullies, each bearing the name "wadi", but virtually all are barren. The rains, which fall only seldom but then with a merciless intensity, flow too quickly, scouring the land of any trace of the life that struggles to take hold there. It is only in the lowest valleys that trees, bushes, and grasses may thrive, when the waters have lost their power and drive and may be effectually tamed by canals and cisterns and put to use by man. However, here in Wadi Akhdar some trick of the hills or perhaps favor of the gods conspired to keep the life-giving water confined between narrow walls without creating a deluge, creating an unimaginable spectacle of life made all the more impressive for the bleakness of the surrounding country.
South of the plentiful vale the land quickly recovered its unforgiving aspect, throwing broken hills across their way, separated only by sun-blasted plains and fields of shattered lava-stone, terrain fit to burn soles and wills and lame the horses and camels. Knowing this Mun'at slowed their march, allowing them two full days in which to refresh themselves and fatten their beasts before they again entered the hot lands. They marched both days, but only shortly, almost casually, flitting their way southward with poorly concealed distaste at the prospect of moving on. It seemed almost as though to leave that valley might mean doom for the brave Nabati men, so much did they drag their feet. Perhaps they were right.
At any rate, on the evening of that second day they reached the confluence of Wadi Akhdar and Wadi Manhazawa whose sandy base marks the end of the fertile lands. There, laid on foundations of sand, Mun'at found the small village of Dizad, the final reason for taking the eastern road. Before they left Tabuk the garrison commander Tarsu had vehemently impressed upon Mun'at the importance that they pass through this quiet town and speak to their elders, for according to his testimony Dizad was the final home of the last remnants of the Jadis tribe, a mighty clan of warriors famed for their strength and prowess with bows. Their counsel held much weight in the lands of Hijaz and the nearby desert, and it would be unwise to travel south without securing a token of good faith from them first. And so Mun'at bade them halt for the evening, but he entered the chieftain's low earthen dwelling apprehensively, displeased with the prospect of so few unknown individuals holding so much sway over his future endeavors.
As he stepped inside Mun'at sat at the place offered to him, placing Shullai to his right and Rana'in to his left, with Khalil and Haza'el behind. They were then given cool water and melon, fruits of the valley which each graciously accepted, and they ate and drank in silence, waiting for their host to speak as was his right. The man opposite them, alone and much scarred, sat quietly at first, eying each captain in turn, but most of all Mun'at, and when finally he spoke it was with words lightly accented in tones of the east. "Proud Nabati," he began, "you do not know me and so I will make no show of familiarity with you." Mun'at shifted uneasily. The words were true enough, but they failed to bespeak a gracious host. "However," the man continued, "news travels faster than summer storms and I have heard of your victory at Tabuk. You Nabati have seldom been friends to me and my people, but the Lihyanites are oft worse, and so I may trust you. Perhaps." The man then paused briefly, seemingly for no other reason than to cause discomfort. When again he spoke it was with a flash in his eyes and a veiled fury not lightly to be tested. "You surely go to strike Dedan," he said, "and in this quest I wish you all good fortune, but know that between here and there there roam many idle men, raiders bereft of clan and country, or family and honor, and you would do well to step lightly. And know this also; the people of Hijaz are under my protection and should you tarry in these sacred hills or your men turn to petty banditry they will bleed long before they are allowed to meet their ancestors. Do we understand one another?"
Mun'at let out an easy sigh and smiled broadly. "I believe we do. And though there is, as you say, no familiarity between us, I believe I know you well enough, and so I will trust you and I would hope you might trust me." At this Shullai Ha'Maleki gently laid a hand on Mun'at's wrist and began to whisper in his ear but was quickly brushed away. "Know that we march on Dedan" Mun'at continued "not to raid or sack the lands of Lihyan, but to unite them. We, the Nabati, the first of the desert peoples who will fall to the greed of Greek hearts, are marching south to call our brothers to arms, so that when the Ptolemaic and Seleukid spears come, and come they will, we will be ready. We are marching so that the sons and daughters of these our lands may remain free and proud, untethered and unbroken. That is our cause."
The man stared long at Mun'at, clearly weighing the words and the man who spoke them, searching for some concealed trickery, but finally he too smiled broadly. With the rigors of distrust laid aside their conversation became more intimate and friendly, and Mun'at, having won some esteem in the man's eyes, stayed long into the night, his captains retiring one by one as he and the scarred soldier spoke. Eventually exhaustion took them both as well, and Mun'at laid his head to rest with an ease not felt for some time.
As the sun rose the next morning and the army prepared to march they were greeted by a small company of scouts and pathfinders, local Hijaz raiders prepared to lead Mun'at and his men through the often desolate landscape of the mountains' parched eastern slopes. And so, as Tarsu had said, their journey through Wadi Akhdar to Dizad was made profitable and the army of the Nabati gained its first Arabian allies outside of Edum.
Author's Note to Wadis |
I added a bit more explanation of wadis because in an earlier private conversation Cookiegod was sceptical* that desert people would use them to travel, as wadis can be extremely dangerous! In fact one of the most common causes of death in the desert is not exhaustion or heat-stroke, but rather drowning, because people will take shelter in the narrow passages and when rains come these fill very quickly. Sometimes rain in the immediate vicinity is not even necessary, and it is not uncommon for places with clear blue skies to very suddenly become flooded. However, there are wadis and there are wadis, with some being nothing more than narrow gorges and others being vast open spaces like Wadi Rum (you might also compare the bed of the Colorado river, which at its higher reaches is astoundingly narrow but eventually opens into the Grand Canyon). There are others still like Wadi Akhdar which are regularly green and have some persistent water there, but these are rather rare.
Regarding whether or not wadis would be traveled, from my research it seems that it is common for desert people to use them as highways, as they are easy to traverse and tend to have at least some vegetation for pack animals to forage on and some (even minimal) amount of water hidden away in sheltered locations. These people are also usually able to "eye-ball" the danger level of a given wadi (with respect to flood risks) and act accordingly, either camping up the edges of it a bit, or keeping their gear ready so that they can move at a moment's notice.
However, all of that being said, wadis are not to be taken lightly or seen as mere valleys or roads, as Cookiegod's scepticism was based on a very real fact: wadis are dangerous. That danger will crop up at some point in the future of this AAR...
*(Many thanks to Cookiegod for being critical and sceptical; it helps us all as writers when someone takes the time to find those small faults or oversights!)
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Continue to Chapter 2 - Part II