Shifting Sands

by Fuad Baloch

  Yenita shot up to her feet, her dark feathers scrunching in a flash of terror. “You!” The guards unleashed their swords.

  Ruma yanked her mask off, and stepped into the light. “Aye, it’s me, come to bid farewell to you.”

  The guards shouted, joined shoulders to block her advance. Yenita took a half-step forward. “You have stones for coming to me even as I’ve got a thousand men looking for you.”

  Ruma shrugged. “Yeah, well, I thought I’d spare us all the hassle. Gets tiring after a while, it really does.” She smiled. “You’d know that, of course.”

  Yenita’s features hardened. “Sivan died for you.”

  “Aye.” Ruma nodded, feeling her smile fade. “As did thousands more.”

  “He didn’t have to die.”

  “Nor did the others.”

  Yenita shook her head, her body trembling in rage. She took another step forward. “You’re going to pay for your crimes, just as that bastard Yasmeen will, and then—”

  “I need to speak to you alone,” Ruma cut in. “Brother Krishan, leave us. Guards, you too.”

  Yenita barked a short laugh. “You think me this stupid?” She placed both hands on her hips. “Say your piece and then prepare to meet your fate.”

  “You owe me, Yenita. And didn't you say a Kapuri never lets their debts unpaid?” Ruma smiled. “In the name of all that is holy and beloved to us both, trust me when I say I intend you no harm.” She paused. “Either way, this is the last time we’re ever going to talk.”

  A cacophony of warring emotions rioted on Yenita’s face. For a second, she looked the young merchant girl Ruma had spied at Salodia being bullied by the merchants. That girl was far too young, far too inexperienced for what Ruma needed her to do. Then, the face hardened. Yenita reached for the table to her right, retrieving a dagger. She waved her spare hand. “Guards, leave us.”

  The one closest to her stepped towards her. “Lady, I must—”

  “Get out!” she barked, the bite surprising Ruma as much as it startled him. Bowing, the guards left the tent one by one. Brother Krishan was the last one, muttering useless prayers as he did.

  The flap fell.

  Though the tent was empty now, the air felt even more stifling. Ruma exhaled, her eyes never straying from the younger girl staring back at her, her head cocked to one side.

  “Well?” Yenita demanded.

  “Kill her!” shouted the First in her ear. “This is your final test. That’s how we use the Shard!”

  Interlacing her fingers, Ruma took a step forward. Yenita’s eyes flashed dangerously, her knuckles growing white over the dagger’s hilt. “Yenita, you are the Lady, the one whose name I heard in my time.” She raised her hand as Yenita opened her jaw. “I was never meant to be this blasted figure from history, the one who healed a nation, held together the various factions, easing over all that divided them.”

  Yenita narrowed her eyes. “You’re trying to trick me.”

  Ruma shook her head. “I admit I still don’t understand the words of that mad priest of Pasalman, but more than ever I’m certain that it is you who was meant to be the Lady all this time.” She spread her arms. “I’m not from this world, and no matter how hard I try, this world and I continue to repel each other.” She smiled. “Something you can attest to personally, of course.”

  Yenita glared at her. “Where are you going with this?”

  Ruma licked her lower lip. “You’re a good person, Yenita. Your head is bolted on right. Yes, sometimes you go too far, letting your feelings take over, but hey, we’re all guilty of that, aren't we?” She raised her hand again to forestall her. “I’m going to go away, Yenita. Far. Very far.” She paused. “We’re never going to see each other. In other words, I came to say farewell.”

  “Where are you—” Yenita’s eyes widened. “You’re going back to your world?”

  Ruma closed her eyes for a second, a tremor creeping into her body. She had to remember there was a third listening in right now as well. When she opened them again, Yenita stood just two paces from her, close enough that had either woman wanted to, she could have stabbed the other easily. “Before I go, I need two promises from you.” Ruma forced a grin. “Think of them as my price for this bargain.”

  “Why should I listen to you?”

  “Because you respect me enough to know I’m not lying to you.”

  Yenita’s nostrils flared. “Go on.”

  Ruma pursed her lips. “Let Yasmeen go. Put a guard on her, prohibit her from speaking out publicly ever again, but give her all respect she’s due for being the prophet’s wife. You need to do that in order to allow the healing to happen.”

  “She killed my brother!”

  “The fates did that,” Ruma replied. “Or your Alf did, if you must be precise. If you don’t do that, there’ll never be peace in Andussia and…” Ruma swallowed the lump rising in her throat, “all that I did here would have been for nothing.”

  Yenita chewed on her lower lip, her body tense. “What more did you want?”

  “Destroy the cannons. They did what they were meant to. Keep them, and the world will tear itself into pieces.”

  Yenita laughed. “You really expect mere words will end this conflict?”

  “What was the message of Alf but revealed word?” Ruma said. “It ended wars, remade the world in one lifetime.” She exhaled. “Trust me, that same word continues to reverberate centuries later. Don’t discount its power.”

  Yenita shook her head, waving the dagger around. “Yasmeen’s soldiers pillaged towns, leaving behind a trail of destruction everywhere they went. Someone like her deserves to have their skin peeled off bit by bit.”

  “Yenita, she’s the mother of the believers.” Ruma slapped her thigh in annoyance. “By all that’s right, I hate it as much as you do, but no matter what a mother does, her status doesn’t change. This world… needs its mother, a quiet one, though, one who lives a long, uneventful life until she dies of old age and broken memories.”

  Ruma fell silent. Though Yenita continued to glare at her, behind the hard facade, Ruma could tell the mask was softening.

  “Right,” said Ruma, turning her back to the woman her heart prayed would make the right decisions. “I’ve done my bit, the rest is on you.”

  “You really expect to just walk out?”

  Ruma nodded, began moving for the exit.

  “What are you going to do now?”

  Ruma paused at the threshold. “I told you… say my farewells.”

  “And after that?”

  Ruma chuckled, her heart bursting with pain, then without another word, she walked out of the Lady of the Sands’ tent.

  Thirty-Four

  Promises

  “What are you doing, human?” shouted the voice in her mind. “Would you jeopardise any chance of your return?

  Ruma ignored the First, allowing her mind to drift to the rhythm of her horse’s soft clacking. Brother Krishan rode to her left, his face pale under the bright moonlight. She had done all she could. Part of being human, she was beginning to realise, meant knowing one’s limits. She had done what she was capable of, and she had no way of knowing for sure how things panned out from here. She had to have faith. She chuckled. Ironic that after a lifetime of rejecting it, in her final moments, she was being forced to subject herself to the diktat of faith.

  Faith, she reminded herself. Not religion. The two were different things, not quite the two sides of the same coin as the religionists like to argue. Instead, the two were as apart from each other as the sun and the moon. One was used by man as an enterprise meant to foster a sense of community—for better or worse—based on alleged inspiration from the divine. The other, though, was an inward intuition that allowed an anxious heart to relax and make peace with the outward turbulence.

  She smiled, surprised by how much like Gulatu she had started sounding. Maybe this world changed anyone who lived in it.

  Brother Krishan was saying something, though ove
r the howling winds, she couldn’t quite hear him. That wasn’t quite right. Had she wanted, she could have listened to him. Her fingers curling over the reins, she took a deep lungful of this world, her limbs weak at what was hurtling towards her.

  Yenita hadn’t sent soldiers to pursue her. A good sign, that. Her chest aching, she clicked her tongue. She wouldn’t see the feisty girl ever again. Sadness mixed with guilt. Yenita didn’t realise it, but she had just been given a burden so heavy that one like Ruma could never bear. Had the merchant girl lived in Ruma’s time, she could have lived her life on her own terms. She could have done what she wanted, made love to whoever she desired. Here, in this world, shackled to the chains that Ruma had bound her in, Yenita would be the Lady of the Sands, the one figure around which the scars of unity would crust up.

  Ruma looked up at the stars, her eyes lingering on the blackness within. “Was that all your doing, Alf? Maybe the priests aren’t wrong about you being the best of plotters. We planned, the fracking Pithrean did too, and all along, you’ve been having a quiet chuckle, aye?”

  No answers came. Of course, they wouldn’t.

  “She might be having us followed!” shouted Brother Krishan, this time his whiny voice bursting through the bubble of her thoughts.

  Ruma shrugged. It didn’t matter now.

  They rode in silence for another dozen miles, anxiety tightening its grip on her stomach even as Brother Krishan continued to glance over his shoulder every ten yards.

  A rider galloped towards them in the dark. “Lady, did they harm you?”

  She smiled, pulling her reins back. “Call me Ruma!”

  Gareeb’s horse snorted as they slowed down to a talk. He pushed back his hair, shooting the priest a quick look. “Krishan, are they pursuing you?” He raised his right hand at her. “If she as much as laid a finger on you, I swear to all that’s holy to cut off her fingers one by one and feed them to the dogs.”

  “Gareeb, where’s Nodin?” Ruma asked, her voice soft, shaking more than it should have.

  “Over the dunes.” Gareeb cocked his head to the side. “Are you going to tell me what happened at Yenita’s camp?”

  “The Lady’s camp,” Ruma corrected. Then, she nodded. “Come, let’s get it done with.”

  Together, the three of them crested the dune. Just as Gareeb had said, a small fire blazed on the other side, figures huddled around it. General Nodin shot up first, his sword out in a second. Then seeing it was her, he put the weapon away.

  Ruma dismounted. When one of the soldiers came towards her to take her horse away, she stopped him with a gentle shake of her head. Closing her eyes for a second, she took in another deep lungful of air. Each planet had a signature biome scent, a result of its unique mixture of fauna and gases. This Doonya had not felt any different than the one she had been brought up on, but its distinct lack of pollution was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Unlike anything she would ever experience again.

  The men had gathered around her, their shadows spreading away from them as the fire crackled. Ruma forced a smile on her face, her heart tearing at the effort.

  “Time has come for me to leave you,” she started. One of the soldiers, one whose name she had never asked, gasped. Gareeb opened his mouth but she waved him shut. “Everything passes. Your prophet did. His followers did.” She blew out a shuddering breath. “So must I.”

  “That wretched girl would have to go over our dead bodies if she seeks you any harm!” Gareeb cried.

  “The boy speaks the truth,” said General Nodin. The mercenary general stood rigid, his face inscrutable, his eyes dark pools of shadows that gave nothing away. “By the holy Alf, your life is worth ten of mine.”

  Breath was growing short in her chest. Placing her hands on her hips, she shook her head gently. “Unlike many who pass away without getting a chance to make their final wishes clear, I must count myself amongst the lucky ones.” She raised a finger, beckoning General Nodin forward.

  The mercenary general took a step towards her. Smiling, she tapped him gently on the chest. “You, Nodin Roh, mercenary commander of great repute, I intend to give a most weighty task. Would you accept it?”

  “My life for you.”

  She nodded. “Yenita, the true Lady of the Sands, faces multiple challenges, both within and without. You must continue to work in the shadows, a snake waiting in the dark, biting any enemies that seek her harm.” She paused, waiting for an argument but the general merely nodded. “She’ll do good deeds, of that I’m certain, but at the end of the day, she, too, is a human, moved by selfish desires. If within a fortnight the six cannons still stand, you are to see to their destruction.” Once more, General Nodin nodded.

  Ruma smiled, feeling a bit of her tension leaking away. “Thank you, Nodin. We’ve had our differences, but for the sake of us all, I hope to Alf that He would keep you steadfast.”

  Next, she turned towards Gareeb. He was crying, his chest heaving. “Gareeb, come here.” He didn’t, making choking noises. Pressing her lips together to stop herself from sobbing, Ruma watched him a long while. He had come a long way from the young lieutenant she had been given when she had joined Bubraza, and though they weren’t that apart age-wise, she couldn’t help but feel pride looking at him.

  Ruma shuffled up to him. Gareeb raised his tear-stained face.

  “You can’t go, Mzi!” he whimpered.

  Ruma smiled. “It’s been a long while since anyone called me that.”

  “There’s s-so m-much to do!” he said, shaking his head. “We need you! Can’t you see that?”

  Ruma cocked her head to the side, her throat scratchy, a soreness spreading in her lungs. “No one is indispensable, Gareeb. You know that.” She sniffled, finding the lump in her throat harder to swallow. “You have a job ahead of you as well.”

  “I won’t do it,” he said, shaking his head vehemently. “Not until you’re here with us.”

  Ruma slapped him. The air rang with the sound of flesh striking flesh. Gareeb looked up, shock registering in his eyes. Still, he kept shaking his head. The dams she had been holding back finally burst, the knot in her stomach unfurling, unleashing a terrible avalanche of grief and sorrow. “You have to be strong for when I’m gone. I am counting on you, Gareeb.”

  General Nodin shifted his weight. The other soldiers kept their heads bowed. Only Gareeb kept rocking on his feet, shaking his head vehemently. “No… we can’t lose you. I can’t lose you. What purpose will I have when—”

  “I’m giving you your purpose,” Ruma cut in. She craned her chin once more, no longer caring to wipe away the tears flowing down her cheeks.

  Finally, an eternity later, Gareeb nodded. “I’ve always obeyed you. That won’t change tonight.”

  “Good,” she said, smiling through the tears. She cleared her throat, gathering her thoughts. “You,” she raised her finger, then swept it through her last followers, “will never mention my name again. Promise me.”

  “But—” protested Gareeb.

  “As you command,” said General Nodin.

  Ruma nodded. “Over time, people must forget my name. There’ll be some tales left, I’m certain, but they must not rise to a level beyond mere legend. The same fate must befall the cannons. Let them become an old wives’ tale.”

  “But you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to Andussia!” whined Gareeb.

  Ruma shook her head. “I was what was needed for a period. Nothing more than that.” She swallowed, forcing her thoughts in order. “Gareeb, you won’t raise a sword again. I forbid you.” Seeing the pain in his eyes, she smiled. “Instead, you are to pick up your painting, do justice with your talent. This much, at least, I can give you.”

  Gareeb hung his head, his whole body shaking.

  “I ask but for one commission.” She stepped forward, taking Gareeb’s hands into hers. “Paint the Lady. Render Yenita to the best of your ability on both canvas and stone. Ensure the world never forgets how she heals this wo
rld.” She pressed his hands. “Will you do that for me?”

  “Yes… Mzi.”

  “Good,” she said. Then, she let go of his long, slender fingers, and stepped back. “Alf’s breath, this was way harder than I thought.” Gareeb chuckled, and she joined in.

  For a long second, she stood there, at a loss of what more she needed to do. Then, her chin trembling, she mounted her horse.

  The men were crying. All of them. Even General Nodin.

  So was she.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, Ruma turned her horse, then spurred it, kicking over and over, letting the darkness between her and the anchors holding her to this world stretch on.

  Thirty-Five

  Ties

  She had always been a survivor. The pragmatist. She was no longer the same person. Of all people, she had started to believe in others. She had developed faith.

  Realisations coming far too late for anyone to care much about.

  Her horse cantered under the starry light heavens, the cool night breeze pressing into her, setting the hairs on the back of her neck on end. She’d been riding for a long time—hours, perhaps—but time hardly seemed to register anymore.

  Ruma raised her head, once more unable to resist the pull of the night sky and the heavenly bodies within. That was her home, an abode within the stars in a metal tube, hurtling from one planet’s well to another.

  “I’m coming home,” she muttered, a sad, wry smile spreading on her lips, aware of the monster listening in. “One way or the other.”

  She forced her tense body to relax, bracing herself to hear the words. The First could see through her senses, could hear what went on in her periphery. Was he worried now? Did he fret over her recent actions?

  She pulled up her reins. Both moons stared down at her from their lofty perches. Her horse snorted, kicking up sand underneath it. Ruma dismounted. For a few breaths, she stood still, happy for the feel of a warm body beside hers. Then, she patted the beast on its neck sticky with foam. “Go.”