The City of Pillars

by Joshua P. Simon

  She killed three more of the ghuls, the last one changing into its natural form before attacking as if thinking its leathery skin might better protect it from Andrasta’s bloody sword. As the body of her opponent fell, she saw something different off in the distance.

  A large form that towered several feet above everyone else stood at the rear of the lines, partially hidden by the shadows of a small rock formation. For a moment, she thought it was just a larger ghul. Then the form turned and she realized it hadn’t been partially hidden at all.

  It only has half a body!

  Past discussions about Nasnas fell into place.

  “Follow me!” she shouted, forgetting about her squad’s formation as she pushed, shoved, hacked, and stabbed her way through the ghulish mass attempting to stop her. Strange, guttural shouts of something that sounded like Dunajan came from several of the ghuls before they met their demise at her blade.

  Her sudden assault caused a shift in battle. She felt the enemy buckling at the northern position which caused the rest of the ranks to reposition themselves. It also drew the attention of Nasnas himself.

  The fallen god, hopped out of the shadows toward Andrasta. If she did not feel the immense weight of the being with each of those hops she might have laughed at the absurdity of what she witnessed. However, even with half a body split down the middle, Nasnas remained impressive. Chiseled bronze skin created a level of awe that ended at the shearing of its body. There, wonderment was replaced with horror as wet flesh pulsed and oozed with bodily fluids.

  An immense weight bore down on her as she closed the distance between them. She realized it was the being’s power. She grit her teeth under the weight, determined not to let it get the better of her, not when it meant she could save Rondel and leave the blasted wasteland of the Empty-Hand Desert.

  Kill him and it all ends.

  She ran at the half god. It said something in the strange language of the ghuls she did not understand. The deep words struck her face like a heavy wind, causing her to flinch briefly. She pushed on, swearing as her blade swept low, hoping to take out its one good leg. Somehow, the god avoided the attack, darting its hand out so quickly, she barely had time to avoid the counter blow.

  The agility of the being surprised her, but she quickly recovered.

  She traded attacks with the creature, but both her efforts and that of Nasnas found only empty air. She clenched her jaw tight in frustration and became even more aggressive, focusing solely on Nasnas’s head until at the last moment she pulled her attack short, and shifted down to its leg. It felt like her sword grated against stone rather than sinking into flesh, yet she knew she finally had success based on the inhuman scream of both shock and pain that came from Nasnas.

  A massive blur caught her square in the jaw as she tried to duck. She took to the air, eyes swimming. She hit the ground hard and all her air left her lungs.

  * * *

  Melek withdrew his sword from the massive hyena. A moment later it reverted to its natural form. He stared at the disjointed limbs and curved torso covered in smooth, leathery skin.

  He spat on it.

  Looking up as the sounds of battle faded, dozens of the hideous bodies littered the ground. Loping figures faded against the horizon. His men kept discipline and did not go off in pursuit.

  Since the first attack of ghuls, the enemy had harassed them every night, often in greater numbers. Thanks to his planning with Andrasta in adjusting strategy, the Host had only lost two men since.

  That was before today.

  His men had performed admirably, better than anyone could ask given their situation, yet they had taken losses. Each one diminished their chance of success.

  But we stood our ground and survived.

  He sheathed his scimitar just as a shout reached him. Qasim ran toward him.

  “Captain, Khalil told me to come to you about Andrasta.”

  His chest tightened in a surprising way. “What is it?”

  “She fought Nasnas. Khalil is tending to her injuries.”

  “What! Hubul’s son was here?”

  “He led the attack from a distance. Andrasta spotted him and charged. She was knocked unconscious, and Hubul’s son called the retreat.”

  Nasnas here? Why would he risk so much? He allowed a small grin. We must have him second guessing himself.

  “Take me to her.”

  Qasim led Melek through the carnage of the battlefield. Dead bodies of his men were mixed in with heaps of ghuls. He dreaded learning the final death toll.

  Not nearly as many men as I hoped to have when we entered the City of Pillars.

  The five men assigned to Andrasta’s unit stood around two figures on the ground. Khalil kneeled over a prone Andrasta.

  “Back away,” said Melek.

  The men parted and Melek kneeled beside Khalil. The sorcerer’s eyes were closed, lips silently moving as he worked on the woman. She carried a swollen jaw and a cut along the left side of her hairline near the top of her scar. His curiosity about its origin hadn’t waned.

  At first, I thought it might have been an animal attack or a sword stroke in battle. But that can’t be right. She would have lost an eye as well. This was done with a knife, deliberately and with malice.

  He frowned at seeing her in so helpless a position while Khalil drew wards on her face. With a few soft spoken words, they began to glow.

  Andrasta’s eyelids flickered open. They widened and she sat up, head darting about. “Where is that freak?” She looked around. “And my sword?”

  Khalil breathed a weary sigh. “Nasnas is gone.”

  Qasim handed Andrasta her sword. “It came loose when you landed.”

  Andrasta took the weapon, grunted, and stood.

  “You should probably take it easy,” said Melek. “Khalil has lessened the swelling, but the bruising is still bad.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Khalil winced as someone helped him to his feet. “Listen to the captain. You had a fractured skull. The bones are mended, but there will still be some residual effects from the injury.” Andrasta swayed on her feet, almost falling until Melek caught her arm. “Like dizziness. It should pass in the next day or so.”

  She wrenched her arm free of Melek’s grip, swearing. She walked away, stumbling. Qasim started to go after her, but Melek steadied his arm.

  “Give her a moment alone. Tell me what happened.”

  “It was Andrasta who first felt something off. She woke us and sounded the alarm when she discovered that Fahd was not in his position. Then the enemy came and she led us to them. We did well. We took down at least two dozen ghuls. Andrasta must have killed half that number herself. I’ve never seen her so angry. She fought as though . . . possessed. She spotted Nasnas in the rear commanding his forces. By Hubul, he’s huge, even larger than I ever imagined. She ran toward him, cleaving a path through the enemy. She and Nasnas fought briefly. It was strange. Despite the handicap Hubul’s son has, he can move with startling . . . grace. Regardless, Andrasta avoided all of his attacks except the last one, a backhanded strike that sent her reeling. It threw her back thirty feet. However, she managed to slice his thigh. Nasnas called an immediate retreat.”

  “Amazing,” whispered Melek. “No one has ever fared so well against Nasnas without sorcery.”

  “We all doubted your decision of bringing her in before, but each day I see how wise your decision was.” He paused. “Even the ghuls recognize her. Some ran away from our group to engage others. They kept calling her Dunajan. Do you know what that means?”

  Khalil gasped next to Melek.

  A shiver ran down Melek’s spine. “Deep in the annals, among our oldest surviving records, there is a small reference to that name.”

  “What was it?” asked Qasim.

  “One of Hubul’s human allies during the battle at the City of Pillars. If I remember correctly, it says: With dark skin and white eyes filled with rage, Hubul’s Dunajan killed the enemy in droves. They r
an away in fear of her might. It goes on to say that because of her effort, Hubul’s son was forced to leave the battlefield. He sensed defeat, and that’s when he put a part of himself in the Mask of Halves.”

  “I don’t recall there ever being a mention of women in the battle,” said another of the men. His voice held awe as he stared at Andrasta. She stood alone in the distance, scanning the horizon.

  “It’s a small reference,” said Melek. “But the gender is clear.”

  Qasim’s eyes widened. “Could it be that—”

  “I think that’s enough for now,” said Khalil. “See to the others and leave me with the captain. We have much to discuss.”

  When the men filed away, Khalil leaned close. “Why did you tell that story?”

  “Why not? It’s the truth.”

  “And look what the result of it was. They think she might be the Dunajan reincarnated.”

  “You and I both know there is no reference to the Dunajan returning. The ghuls just probably thought Andrasta reminded them of it.”

  “So then why let them believe in such absurdity.”

  Melek shrugged. “Look around Khalil. We have lost many of our number and we still have much fighting left to do. The men are tired. We need to keep their hope alive. If the belief of a Dunajan helps, then so be it.”

  “That’s blasphemy. Hubul alone is the only hope we need.”

  “Even Hubul needed help to defeat his son. So why is it blasphemy to seek help ourselves?”

  Khalil scowled.

  Melek placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll talk more about this later. I need to go speak with Andrasta.”

  * * *

  Andrasta gazed out at the swimming horizon, doing all she could to will it to be still. Her head felt like someone had dropped a mountain on it.

  She swore. Who would have thought that whoreson could hit so hard with only one foot to balance? And his speed. . . .

  She hated to give Nasnas credit, but he had gotten the best of her.

  This time.

  “You should be resting,” said Melek, coming up beside her.

  I didn’t even hear him. Blasted ringing in my ears.

  “I will later,” she mumbled. Her voice sounded foggy.

  “Just don’t wait too long.” He added a grunt.

  She turned slowly so her body wouldn’t react to the dizziness. “What was that for?”

  Melek wore a soft smile that gave him a gentle look. “It’s just nice to know that there is something out there that can at least slow you down.”

  “I’m not perfect.” After all, I let Rondel be taken. “And I have lost.” She closed her hands in determination. “However, I’ve never lost twice to the same opponent.”

  * * *

  Rondel started to smile as Nasnas hopped into camp carrying a gash across his thigh. Bright red blood ran down his leg.

  The half-god began shouting his guttural language at Shadya. The word Dunajan came up several times in the tirade, Nasnas’s voice rising with every use of the word.

  It was obvious that he had suffered another defeat at the hands of Hubul’s Host. The injury and losses were too much for Nasnas. In a fit of rage, he grabbed a ghul by its throat and squeezed, breaking its neck. Everyone, Rondel included, cowered from the outburst.

  Even Shadya tried to keep her distance, but failed. Rondel couldn’t make out all that was said between them, but his slow understanding of the language allowed him to pick up a few words. What he understood, angered him.

  Nasnas blamed everyone but himself for the defeat. Shadya tried to not only defend herself but also calm the half-god. Her efforts rewarded her with an open hand slap to the face.

  Forgetting any fear of Nasnas, Rondel surged to his feet with fists tightened. “Don’t you dare strike her again, you piece of—”

  A punch to the gut from Athar silenced him. “Sit down, scum.”

  The ghul went over to wrap Nasnas’s wound.

  Rondel gasped for air and crawled to where Shadya lay with hand against her face. He couldn’t believe that Nasnas would strike her.

  She seems so small and helpless.

  “Are you all right?” he huffed.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “The slap was not that painful. It was what he said.” She paused. “That was a dumb thing to do, giving Athar a reason to strike you like that.”

  “Probably.”

  She faced him. He frowned at the red whelt on her cheek. “It was very sweet though.”

  Rondel didn’t know how to respond. He had acted without thinking. He liked to think he would have done the same if any woman had been in Shadya’s place, but the overwhelming rage he had felt couldn’t be explained by some form of mundane chivalry.

  Is all this still some lingering effect of the amulets? Or was Shadya right? Were my feelings real? Are they real now? He stared at her swollen belly. How could they not be real on some level? She’s carrying something I helped create.

  “What did he say?” asked Rondel.

  Shadya started to respond, but stopped herself. “Nothing. He was angry and wanted to hurt someone, so he . . . lied about things.”

  “And chose to hurt you.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  She got up and walked away, leaving Rondel to wonder why he felt so bad for someone who had selfishly manipulated him.

  CHAPTER 22

  Despite all of Shadya’s reassurances, Rondel refused to remove the cloth covering most of his face or lower his hands from shielding his eyes. He stood a hundred yards from the lifelike wall of swirling sand.

  But not nearly far enough.

  He couldn’t take his eyes off the dancing orange cloud that rose hundreds of feet into the air.

  Their party had stopped at the top of an empty sand dune. Shortly afterward, when the sun started its descent, wisps of sand had begun to rise. Within minutes, the largest dust storm Rondel had ever seen, or heard of rose into the afternoon sky. It grew until it blanketed the horizon for miles. He almost ran, but a hand steadied him.

  “It will not come our way,” Shadya had said.

  And it hadn’t.

  Nasnas, Shadya, and Athar simply stood and waited. Eventually, after much internal deliberation he relaxed beside them.

  As the last light of day slipped away and the sky lost all color except for a bright gray caused by the moon, the storm ended. Sand dropped with the suddenness of someone snapping their fingers.

  Rondel’s jaw fell open.

  Well, now I know why no one could ever find the thing.

  Exposed for the first time in centuries, the City of Pillars stood in a giant depression surrounded by walls of sand.

  Massive stone pillars encircled the city. Directly in front of them, more pillars flanked either side of a wide road that led into the city proper where tall buildings with sharp lines waited them. Rondel couldn’t make out the details of the pillars or the buildings within the city from this far away, but the fact that he could even see them as clearly as he did at night said more than enough about their size.

  He glanced up. And when has the moon ever been so bright?

  “Hubul’s power betrays him,” whispered Shadya.

  “I don’t understand,” said Rondel.

  “The moon is Hubul’s favorite of all the celestial bodies. Yet due to the alignment, it is at its brightest. His own power will be what helps us bring him down.”

  Nasnas spoke, then took off in a galloping hop. Even with the bandage around his thigh, he moves with such agility.

  “Where’s he going?” asked Rondel.

  “To scout ahead and determine the state of the altar.”

  The altar. He gave a small sigh. It’s a shame I’m not a minstrel anymore. This journey has everything. Adventure. Sorrow. Deceit. He thought of Nasnas’s sheared body. Fear. Rondel’s eyes swept back to the fading sight of the naked half-god hopping away. Nasnas’s single firm buttock bounced with each footfall. And the humor is built solid
ly into the story.

  Subconsciously, his mind began crafting a verse that rhymed “camel hump” with “ample rump.”

  Shadya’s somber voice jarred his thoughts. “Come.” Athar helped her back onto her mount.

  Since Nasnas’s outburst following his last defeat, Shadya’s positive attitude had waned. She still seemed the dutiful servant, but it appeared that she did things reluctantly rather than with her normal fervor. Rondel had asked twice more about what was said exactly, but each time he was ignored.

  In fact, Shadya had become more introspective, often looking down and rubbing a hand gently over her stomach where the child they had created grew. After settling in the saddle, he noticed her caressing her belly yet again.

  “Having second thoughts?” Rondel asked.

  She pulled her hand away quickly and clicked her reins.

  * * *

  Andrasta and the men of Hubul’s Host sat in a half circle underneath an invisible dome of calm. Outside, a hurricane of sand and dust swirled around them. Inside, the wards established by Khalil kept away the howling wind and annoying grit.

  She took a deep breath, admittedly a little unnerved by being enveloped by the storm.

  Khalil had impressed her with how quickly he erected the protection.

  Andrasta always avoided sorcery when possible. However, she needed to be at full strength for the coming battle and reluctantly let Khalil heal her remaining injuries from Nasnas as well.

  “Listen up,” said Melek.

  He nodded toward two men. They began unrolling a large scroll, tanned with age and creased at the edges. Drawn in black ink was the layout of the city. Erban notes covered the diagram.

  Melek pointed to a spot on the map. “We’re currently there. It isn’t the most ideal spot, but a good one nonetheless. When the storm ends we should be able to travel along this ridge and enter the city through the main road.”

  “Can we not enter through a different way?” asked Omar. “Coming into the city from the center will leave us exposed and surrender any element of surprise we might have.”

  “You’re right,” said Melek. “We’ll be at a slight disadvantage. However, any other entrances are warded by ancient sorceries that will take too long for Khalil to break.”