A New Dawn

by J. J. Johnson

  “But not large enough to face both Jorn and this new army. Either way we must divide their forces,” argued Aiden.

  “By dividing our own? How will we stand against these outsiders when half our army is stranded in Valkara?” Henry protested.

  “Enough, both of you,” Lydia cried. Geralt could see behind her emerald eyes the weighing of their words.

  “Commander, how many men do we still have remaining in our army?” she asked.

  “At least 3,000 men of Kingshelm and another 2,000 of Leviatanas, my lady,” he replied.

  “Brother, how many of your own remain?”

  Aiden narrowed his eyes in suspicion but conceded his answer to her. “600 uninjured fighting men.”

  “600 and you expect us to send our forces with yours pulling so little weight?” Henry asked.

  “Henry, enough,” Lydia said, raising a hand to silence him. “I understand your hesitation to work with my brother. I carry my own as well.” She shot Aiden a hardened glance. “But he is right. Jorn will not go away, and if we do not deal with him now he will only grow stronger. He is the weaker head of this monster and, if we can lop it off, we should.”

  A smile crept onto Aiden’s face at her words. “Don’t get too cocky, brother. The true fight will be against these outsiders. That’s why I am only sending half our force to march on Valkara.”

  “Half? We may not even match Jorn’s remaining army with that number. You would be sending us to a slaughter against Valkara’s defenses.”

  She turned a sharp eye to him. “We need to maintain a force large enough to stand against Ulric and his men. The force I give will be sufficient. If it helps, I will accompany you.”

  “My Queen, I highly suggest you stay with the larger force…” Henry said before being cut off once more.

  “I will take my protector to keep me safe.” Her eyes shifted to look at Geralt. “He has never failed me after all these years, and I don’t suspect he will now. That is, if he is willing to return to Valkara.”

  He knew the answer before she asked. “Of course, my Queen.”

  “Then, by decree of the High Queen, I fulfill the promise of Kingshelm to march with Aiden’s men to retake Valkara for the family of Doran. In my stead I leave Henry, loyal and faithful servant of Kingshelm as High Commander of my armies. You will lead them south to regroup with Imari and the Khalans. Together we will wipe out this plague that has befallen our lands.”

  “High Queen… I am honored,” said Henry kneeling.

  “Rise, Henry, you may wait to thank me when this is all over.”

  “It is my honor to serve, my Queen. I will make ready the army at once, with your leave.”

  “Go.” With that command Henry dismissed himself from the tent. The rest of the commanders presently followed after him.

  Aiden’s jade eyes fixed on Lydia with a piercing gaze when all had been dismissed.

  “Careful how you look at your queen,” Geralt warned.

  “Ahh Geralt, how you have risen among the ranks. Mighty fine of you to be so concerned for my family.”

  “Silence, Aiden! Geralt has been faithful to me more than my own blood. I would watch how you speak to him in my presence,” Lydia snapped.

  Aiden ignored the remark. “You know this is a massacre you are sending us to? Jorn will have more than men awaiting us. Dark arts are now performed in Valkara.”

  “What we have will suffice. Just be ready to win yourself a throne,” she said giving him a wave to dismiss him. With reluctance, he turned from the tent.

  “A bold move,” Geralt said.

  Lydia turned her eyes to him revealing the vulnerability hidden beneath the bravado she adorned. “I’m just glad you are going with me.”

  “Of course, my Queen. It’s time we finish this.”

  12

  Imari

  Khaleena had made sure that her displeasure was shown at Imari’s allowance of Amira into Khala. At least for now she must bow to the will of the Khosi. Some time had passed since his visit to Sahra, and the daily tolls of leadership had preoccupied his time. Amira had chosen to help where she could. Her skill as a warrior came in handy for training the new ranks of the Bomani. In the beginning they looked at her with suspicion, but she had proven her worth. His mind returned to the present as he overlooked the throne room. A host of ambassadors and tradesmen stood on the mosaic patterned floor, flanked on the side by royal banners. The people had brought with them a new round of pleas for him to consider.

  Encircling the room stood a company of proven Bomani recruits. Their leader, Impatu, had placed himself at the foot of the throne. Opposite him was his sister, Khaleena, arrayed in a splendid leopard skin robe. He found himself staring up at the hanging gardens above. Their glistening leaves reflected a palate of colors from the sunlight shining overhead. A royal court member broke his daydreaming once more with a tired yawn.

  “Did you hear me, my Khosi? Crop yields are…”

  The tradesmen was cut off by the door of the throne room being flung open. A royal messenger rested his hand against the doorframe, straining to speak the urgent message.

  “An… an… army approaches Khala, my Khosi,” the messenger said between breaths.

  Imari found himself rising from the throne, but before he could speak Khaleena asked, “Is it Sahra? Have they decided to march on us?”

  “No, this army comes from the north. It… it looks like Kingshelm,” answered the messenger.

  Imari shot Khelaana a cold look for speaking out of place. “Send an emissary out to meet them. I assume they come in peace, but let us be sure.”

  The messenger inhaled his breath and scurried away with his new orders.

  “Impatu, gather the Bomani at the main gate. Inform Imamu to warn the city guard.”

  “It will be done, Khosi,” bowed Impatu.

  He descended the throne steps when Khaleena caught his arm. “You don’t plan to let another foreign force into the city do you, brother?”

  He pulled his arm free from her grip. “I will do whatever is best for the kingdom.”

  He saw the watchful eyes of Amira tucked within the shadows of the room and wondered what she made of the news. He felt a tinge of guilt rise in him at what other task he had given the old Sycar. She had a gift in espionage and he had asked her to use it. He didn’t trust his sister’s motives any longer. With the Masisi now dwelling in the city, she had the force to make a move if she pleased. No news of betrayal could be found, but tensions seemed to grow every day between them now on how Khala should be run.

  He wasted no time in securing a camel to take him to the city gate. An entourage of Bomani stood awaiting his departure. With their protection, he moved out into the streets. The city had been able to return to some semblance of normal but scars still marred her beauty. If they were not found on the surrounding sandstone buildings, they would be manifested in the Khalan themselves. Unsure eyes and blank faces looked out at the Khosi passing by. A sense of unease and uncertainty filled the people. How he wished it could be cured, but time looked to be the only solvent for their wounds. He only hoped things were mendable with Nabila.

  One step at a time, he thought.

  He took in a breath to soak in his wonderful home. Every refreshing fountain, each vendor’s display, and every home that was occupied by the people in his care. He must remember who he was fighting for. Soon, the city sights vanished and the towering defenses dominated his view. Before long a lone rider came up to the walls of Khala. A grin crossed Imari’s face at the sight of his old friend. He quickly made his way down the ramparts to the city gate. The large wooden doors creaked open revealing the lone knight from Kingshelm.

  “Henry, you are alive!” he exclaimed as they embraced.

  “It is good to see you too, Khosi. I only wish it wasn’t under such circumstances.”

  “It is strange that on your return you bring an army with you,” Imari said.

>   The look in Henry’s eyes spoke of the dire words he would need to speak next. “Imari, the High King Titus is dead.”

  Even as Henry spoke, Imari could feel a numbing sensation wash over him. How could this be? Who could have…

  “The outsiders who arrived at Samudara Port did this. They have come to conquer Islandia.”

  The vision of treasures placed before him by the man named Cedric flashed in his mind. He felt the tightening of his fists at the confident smiles and honey dipped promises they had given.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “They came to Kingshelm under the guise of peace. High King Titus, by some revelation, called them to speak their true intentions, and in that confrontation he was slain. Shortly after, these outsiders placed Kingshelm under siege. It looks as if this had been their plan all along, and it gets worse.”

  “How so?” Imari asked.

  “We believe these men are servants of Maluuk. He is using them to exact his revenge. Lydia and Geralt have led a force against New Valkara in hopes of destroying them before these two foes can unite.”

  Imari looked over Henry’s shoulder at the army with their banners flapping in the distance. “Why have you brought your army here? Should it not be in Kingshelm?”

  A look of quiet unease flashed across Henry’s face. “Well, my Khosi… we had hoped that Khala would join us to expel these men from Islandia. Our numbers have dwindled and we thought with your help…”

  “With our help you could spill more Khalan blood for a Kingshelm cause?” came the voice of Khaleena behind them.

  Imari turned to see his sister, hands on hips, carrying a look of disgust.

  “Don’t tell me you plan to drag our people into another war, Imari.”

  “Khosi, I would not come here if it wasn’t dire. The battle can be won with ease if Khala joins our forces.”

  “How many men do you think we have?” Khaleena asked. “Can a thousand truly turn the tide?”

  “It can. Beside numbers, it is the vaunted Bomani we are speaking of. By skill alone they outmatch any man two to one.”

  “Our Bomani are but boys now, led by a boy who has fought in a handful of battles. They no longer are the thing of legend,” Khaleeana said, restraining her displeasure.

  “Khaleena, enough!” Imari shouted. “Do you believe you have the authority to speak for me?”

  “I speak for our people. Someone must. Look around, Imari. They are fearful, fearful of being dragged into another fight that is not their own. If you call on their sons to fight and die again you will have a revolt.”

  “And who would be its leader?” he seethed.

  It was in that moment he noticed all the eyes of his Bomani guard that had fallen on them. Each carrying a weight of shock and fear at the bickering of their leaders. Imari swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking.

  “Henry, I must think on our decision. You and your army are welcome to camp outside our walls. Food and water will be provided at a fair price.”

  “Khosi, if we lose, they will march on your walls next,” Henry said with desperation.

  “A shell of their forces which we can dispatch,” Khaleena said in response.

  All Imari could do was sigh. He was tired, tired of fighting tooth and nail with his sister. Tired of war and among all this, the news of his friend’s death had already been drowned out.

  “I… I need to think,” he muttered. Not waiting for a reply he turned to face the palace. Barely holding back the swelling of tears, he warded off the blurred faces around him. All of them wondering what could place their Khosi in such a state. Once inside the palace, he scrambled to his quarters. In a reckless flurry he scrounged together what he needed to travel to ‘the place.’ It had become an oasis of solitude for him long before he had been honored as Khosi. It was there he must retreat if he was to work through the clutter of voices that hounded his mind. A voice emerged from the dark of his room, startling him.

  “Where are you planning to go?” asked Amira as she emerged from the shadows.

  “A place of refuge. Just for a day or so. I need to think all this through.”

  “Khaleena will take advantage of your absence. You must know this. She may even speak of a mental break in you.”

  “Perhaps it is breaking,” he sighed. “I am tired, Amira. Tired in a way that cannot be fixed with all this noise around me. I will be gone only a few days. I trust Khala will not collapse in such little time.”

  “What about Henry?” she asked.

  How could it be explained to him the ever growing division between Khaleena and himself? Imari thought.

  “Have Impatu prepare as if we are marching to war. In the meantime, would you speak to Henry for me?”

  “What would you have me say?”

  “Explain to him what is truly happening in Khala. That things are not as simple as he had hoped.”

  “It will be done,” Amira said bowing.

  “Thank you, Amira. Little did I know of the allies I still had in Sahra.”

  “Ally Khosi, I believe I may be the only one in Sahra who sees things in a similar way.”

  “Indeed,” he said sullenly. He reached inside his tunic and pulled out a small, white dagger. Its edges radiated with golden light.

  “What’s this?” Amira asked.

  “I want you to have it. It has brought me hope in times where I have been in dire need of it. Perhaps it can help you now.”

  Without a word Amira nodded and tucked the small dagger underneath her own cloak. With a somber smile she slipped back into the shadows, dismissing herself from his presence. Imari found himself staring at his stash of supplies that he had kept for such a journey. He only hoped it would bring him the wisdom he needed.

  The rolling dunes of sand sent fragments of glistening specks across an azure sky. Beyond the tides of sand, waves from the Islandic Ocean crashed against the pebbled coast. No cloud could be seen in the sky. Imari found himself among a long abandoned cluster of buildings. At one time they had been built to rival the great port of Samudara. The project had failed, but in its wake, the abandoned site had become an oasis for many a Khosi.

  He inhaled, allowing the smell of salt water to fill his lungs. A gust of sea wind swept up another swell of warm sand as the wind rippled off the dune before him. This was his place of solitude, of rest. It was here he had learned to reflect on all that had happened to his family after their murder those many years ago.

  It was here he had retreated, once more searching for answers that eluded him. In quiet meditation he strolled down to the beach. White foam formed at the surface of the crashing tide. Beneath his feet the sand radiated the heat of the midday sun. He felt the calming rhythm of the ocean wash over him. With the sand beneath him and the waves around him, he searched his mind for the revelation he needed. He relayed every option, every move, and yet… nothing. The answer would not come, no matter how hard he fought to find it.

  He knew the Khalans would rebel at the call of another war horn. His sister was right in that regard. They had grown restless and weary of bloody battle. How could he reconcile that with the loss of his friend? He owed Kingshelm for the very kingdom restored to him, but had he not repaid his debt? Was it a debt? They were the grand throne that all must answer to but the true High King was gone. He loved Titus like a brother, but all knew whose throne it really was.

  Then there was Nabila. He was stirred from his thoughts as the sound of hooves drew near. Almost all had forgotten about this place. Only royalty had kept its memory alive. Royalty. It dawned on him who his visitor was just as her face peeked over a dune above the beachfront.

  Khaleena and her trusted warrior Lombaku steered their camels down the steep dune toward him.

  “I came here to be alone, Khaleena.”

  “I know why you came,” she said, a hint of dread in her voice.

  “Then why do you disturb me?” he asked as she dismounted
before him.

  She drew in a deep breath as her gaze met his. “It is time, Imari, for you to step down as Khosi.”

  So it was true, he thought. She desired the throne after all.

  “You have a good heart, brother, but that heart has failed in serving the interests of our people.”

  “So why did you come here to tell me this, and why bring him?” he asked pointing a finger at the hulking figure of Lombaku.

  Khaleena shot Lombaku a glance. “I need you to return to Khala and proclaim you have passed on your rule to me. I prefer you did so peacefully but, if not…”

  “But why here, sister? Why not wait for my return? Do you even desire my return to the city at all?” he asked.

  A look of sorrow passed over her face. “I thought you deserved to hear this in privacy. Besides, your return is urgent. Impatu has ordered the fighting men to assemble. Soon the city will be in an uproar.”

  “He did so on my orders, Khaleena.”

  “So you would create the riots yourself, then abandon your people?” she snapped.

  “You don’t understand the stakes, Khaleena. You haven’t seen what the servants of Maluuk are capable of.”

  “I know full well what they are capable of,” she said pulling the collar of her shirt to reveal her scars. “Don’t you dare question me on such matters.”

  “I can’t just abandon Kingshelm. The price that Eloy paid to save us…”

  “You see this is the true root of the issue! This Eloy. You claim he is so grand, so great, yet Khala has not seen his benefits. Why should I not have the privilege to meet this High King?”

  “Perhaps we should change that,” came a voice behind her.

  The three of them turned. Their expressions turned to awe and fear as they gazed upon the man standing beside them on the beach. He wore royal attire bleached white. His brown eyes narrowed, sending small creases across his olive skin as he smiled.

  “E… Eloy,” Imari said, stumbling at the sight. “How?”

  Khaleena stood wide-eyed, staring at the High King. Fear and terror caused her body to tremble.