When the maidservants had fastened his plaits, Ferhdessar got up. He ignored the extended hand and got out of the bath on his own. The water running down his body formed a puddle on the tiled floor. The women wrapped towels around him and rubbed him dry. Because they weren’t fast enough for his liking, he snatched a towel out of the hands of one of the maidservants and dried himself off. He got dressed and left the bathroom without looking back.
Nigesanla entered the room and curtsied. Ferhdessar looked her up and down. Even though she was dressed in a loose-fitting gown, that she undoubtedly had embroidered herself for Yvar’s funeral service, he had no trouble picturing her the way she had looked upon arrival in Nadesh. She had been adorned with too many frills, but her clothes had emphasized the shape of her body. Ferhdessar understood very well why Yvar had been attracted to her and had slept with her. But how on earth could Yvar have thought that she would make a suitable queen? With his marriage vows he had signed his own death sentence. Even if Nigesanla hadn’t known anything about her father’s plans – which she kept insisting – she still was the one who had provided Kasimirh with a way into the palace.
Nigesanla glared at him. He could tell by the look in her eyes that something was eating away at her. It alarmed him.
“Are you worried about something, my lady?” he asked, as two maidservants draped a cape around his shoulders.
“No, lord. I just didn’t sleep well.”
Ferhdessar walked up to her. The maidservants rushed after him to ensure that the cape didn’t fall to the ground. Ferhdessar put his hand on her stomach. He noticed that she was giving off a sour scent, even though she tried to hide it with perfume. “There’s indeed no need for you to worry. I’ll raise Yvar’s child as if he were my own.”
Nigesanla had cast down her eyes, but now she looked straight at him. “Why do you think I’m expecting a son? What if it’s a girl?”
Ferhdessar scrutinized her. “Then Merzia will have a worthy queen. I’ll do anything to give her that position.”
Nigesanla was startled.
“Rest assured, my lady, your daughter will be in good hands with me.”
“You mean that you’ll marry her off to the man that you think should be on the throne,” Nigesanla hissed.
Ferhdessar sat down so that the servants could help him into his boots. He looked up at Nigesanla. Her fists were clenched and she was shaking. Apparently, she understood that there was only one man in Merzia whom Ferhdessar thought suitable to rule the land: the man who was coming into power today.
It was the first time that he had noticed her being worried about the child. Before, she had given him the feeling that she’d rather not be pregnant. Sometimes he sensed her hatred for her unborn child. Ferhdessar was fine with that. If Nigesanla hated her child, it would be easier to take it from her when it turned one.
“Exactly,” said Ferhdessar. “Why does that anger you? It’s customary in your own culture.”
Nigesanla gave him a look full of loathing and shook her head.
“When I ask you a question, I do expect an answer. If you don’t answer me, I’m forced to use magic on you.”
Nigesanla clenched her teeth. Then she whispered: “I thought that I’d escaped that life. I thought I was giving my children a better future by marrying lord Yvar.”
“But unfortunately you weren’t married to him.” Thank goodness, Ferhdessar thought. He had been able to cut the marital ribbon before midnight. The woman in front of him didn’t matter any more. “You do realize that you never did escape your fate in the first place? You were married off like the lowest ranking woman in a harem, to pull the wool over the eyes of the Merzians.”
Ferhdessar sent the servants away. Nigesanla bowed her head. Ferhdessar expected her to start crying, but when she looked up there was determination in her eyes.
“You can’t ignore me now that I’m carrying the heir to the throne. I wish to keep playing a part in the lives of the Merzians. At least grant me that, in memory of my husb… of lord Yvar.”
“What did you have in mind?” Ferhdessar asked curiously.
Nigesanla straightened her shoulders. “A Merzian queen takes care of the people. Especially in this time of war, you need someone to spread hope.”
“And you think that role suits you?” Ferhdessar laughed at her. “Yes, Yvar’s child gives the Merzian people hope, but you show us a side of Merzia that we don’t want to see. You broke sacred rules by seducing the king. Our future ruler mustn’t be tarnished with the disgrace of his mother. I have no choice but to turn down your request. I’m sure you understand?”
“Disgrace? It was for the good of Merzia that I let Yvar impregnate me. Surely, I deserve some respect for that?”
“It was against the rules. Especially in these times, the rules must be observed.”
“If lord Yvar and I had respected the rules, there wouldn’t be an heir today. Lord Yvar didn’t mind us breaking the rules. Why is it so important to you?” She looked him straight in the eyes. “Or would you rather I wasn’t pregnant?” she asked slowly.
The door swung open, giving Ferhdessar time to think of an answer. Afifa entered. She raised her eyebrows, looked at him and then at Nigesanla. “We’re ready to escort you to the ceremony,” she said formally. She only spoke this way when Ferhdessar had company. When they were alone, or in the presence of the generals, she often behaved as his mentor. Ferhdessar nevertheless tolerated her presence, because she made an impressive bodyguard. Moreover, he wanted at least one sorcerer to be able to bear witness to his actions during the upcoming war. He wasn’t just acting in the interest of Merzia or because of the dreams of his ancestors. He wanted his name and deeds to be acknowledged and remembered long after his death.
Ferhdessar looked at Nigesanla, but before he could say anything, she screamed: “I also wish that I hadn’t gone to lord Yvar that night. I wish that I didn’t wake up every morning feeling nauseous because I carry a child that won’t even be mine. I wish that I wasn’t trapped.”
Ferhdessar realized that the anger against her child was self-defence. Nigesanla didn’t want to grow attached to a child that she couldn’t keep, so instead she tried to hate it.
He got up and put a hand on her shoulder. “When the child turns one, you can leave all of this behind you. Let that be a comfort.”
Nigesanla didn’t look relieved at all. She only looked more hurt. Ferhdessar followed Afifa out of the room. Nigesanla walked a few yards behind them.
A sigh escaped Ferhdessar’s lips. His gaze wandered around the temple as the priest continued the endless string of prayers in honour of Yvar. No stone in Gaia’s sanctuary was unpainted. The pillars were decorated as gigantic trees supporting the roof of foliage. Ferhdessar spotted a bird among the branches.
He peeked at the people present. No one noticed that he was having difficulty keeping his attention on the service.
The priest lit the umpteenth candle. These specific rituals were meant for the entombment. They seemed inappropriate, since there wasn’t even a body to say farewell to.
Ferhdessar’s gaze moved to the table behind the priest where the artefacts were lying that were going to be handed to him soon.
At long last, the final song was sung. This song was sung at all funerals, not just for the king. Here and there the voices of the Merzians that had gathered could be heard. Ferhdessar looked to his right. Kiril was singing, head bowed. Undoubtedly, the general wasn’t only thinking of the king but also of the many fallen soldiers. A bit further down, a soldier was singing with his hand on his heart. Behind him, a group of people were kneeling. Everybody’s grief came together and weighed heavily on those present. A shiver ran down Ferhdessar’s spine. Farewell, Yvar. I’m sorry that it had to end this way.
There was a long silence after the last note. Nigesanla was sobbing silently into her handkerchief. Ferhdessar looked back up. The priest had his head bowed and his hands folded. Was he praying? Minutes went by. Nobody said anyth
ing, nobody did anything.
Ferhdessar wanted to stand up, but his body seemed to have a will of its own. He hesitated. Then he used the armrests to push himself to his feet. The priest was startled when Ferhdessar laid his hand on the man’s shoulder. He bowed and made himself scarce. Ferhdessar turned around. The people were still not doing anything. He looked at the generals. He kept staring at Zander until he looked up. The general got up and walked up to Ferhdessar. The other four generals followed him.
“Please kneel,” Zander said softly.
Ferhdessar obeyed.
“We place Merzia’s fate into your hands,” Zander said. He placed a gold cylinder in Ferhdessar’s hands. It contained the first map ever made of Merzia. Hadumar had drawn it soon after the first shapeshifters had driven off the Hurath. Ferhdessar’s hands were shaking. His moment had finally come.
Ferhdessar looked at the cylinder. He moved his fingers along the text engraved in the gold.
Unity in diversity.
Strength in origin.
Guided by the fire of justice.
It was as if the message had been written for him. Ferhdessar smiled.
“I swear…” His voice faltered. Ferhdessar coughed before he continued. “I swear to the people of Merzia to inexhaustibly observe and uphold the laws. I swear to defend and preserve the independence and territory of this kingdom with all my might, and to protect the freedom and rights of all Merzians, like a good and faithful ruler is obliged to do. May the Gods be with me.” He held the cylinder over his head and bowed to the ground.
When he sat back up, Zander placed a gold band on Ferhdessar’s head. “Until Yvar’s child is old enough to rule us, you will be our leader.”
The sorcerer pushed the band further over his hair. Smiling, he got to his feet and watched the generals kneel for him. Ferhdessar walked past them, so they could kiss his ring.
He left the temple, followed by the generals. Not everyone had been able to attend the service in the temple. Soldiers of the lower ranks had attended a service in the square. They knelt as Ferhdessar walked into the sunlight. Ferhdessar looked at the men and women who were now his subjects.
He raised his voice. “I’ve been handed a kingdom at a time of war, but with the help of the Gods I’ll bring peace again. I promise you that everything I do will be for the good of Merzia.” He raised the cylinder over his head once more, so that everyone could see the symbol of his power. The Merzians bowed.
Ferhdessar tilted his face towards the sun. His father and his teacher were proudly looking down on him; he was sure of that. He could no longer contain his laughter. This was his moment of glory.
A shadow fell over his face. Ferhdessar opened his eyes and staggered backwards.
15
A dead body smashed onto the pavement in front of Ferhdessar’s feet and rolled down a number of steps. It was the decaying and broken body of a soldier. Given the state of decomposition, he had been dead for quite some time. Ferhdessar clasped his hand to his mouth and looked away.
The generals joined him. The sorcerer looked up as he gathered magic in his hand. More bodies were thrown down from Nadesh. Ferhdessar’s guard gathered around him.
Panic broke out in the square. The Merzians were both trying to avoid the falling bodies and identify them at the same time.
Ferhdessar saw an old woman sitting in the distance. She held a child’s dead body against her chest and wept. Her husband was standing next to her. He also had tears in his eyes. He looked around as if he was searching for someone else.
Soldiers found the bodies of their wives and children. Women found bodies of sisters who had remained behind in Nadesh in the clutches of Kasimirh. Children found their fathers who had fought against the enemy, long after the escape routes had been closed.
Then Ouranos’s body crashed onto the pavement.
“Bad omens,” Kiril mumbled.
Ferhdessar turned his head. The general took a step back to stand behind Eoghan.
Ferhdessar growled. “That’s exactly what Kasimirh wants to achieve. He wants to break our morale. To spread fear and doubt. It’s bad enough that my soldiers are wondering if this is a sign from the Gods, but who would have thought that my generals could be thrown by Kasimirh’s foul actions.” He shook his head in contempt. Kiril averted his gaze and shouted some orders at an officer.
Ferhdessar turned around and marched into the temple. How different this day had been in his imagination. This should have been his day of triumph. A day to be remembered in the annals as the day that marked the beginning of Merzia’s liberation. The old Merzia. Now everyone would remember this day as a black page in history. The day when it rained bodies.
Only now did Ferhdessar realize that he was still holding his magic. He threw the power away with a wild gesture. Some of the benches were hurled aside. One of the stained-glass windows exploded into pieces.
“Just you wait, Kasimirh! You can’t stay there forever,” Ferhdessar screamed. “One day I will defeat you. And then I’ll get back what you took away from me today.”
The shower of corpses had lasted hours. The bodies didn’t only land in the square, but also on buildings, crushing roof tiles. Every time a body landed on the roof of the temple, the conversation between Ferhdessar and the generals fell silent. Eventually, they had stopped talking altogether until a soldier came to tell them that no more bodies were coming down.
Ferhdessar walked outside, followed by his bodyguards and the generals. The bodies were lying in neat rows on the red stained square. The soldiers had wrapped white sheets around them. Only the faces were still visible. Soldiers were neatly lined up along the buildings. Ferhdessar’s gaze travelled along the men. Nearly everyone at the fortress was grieving a loved one, and there were still soldiers walking along the rows of dead bodies. Ferhdessar saw Rogan. Ghalatea’s husband had reached the last row and joined the other soldiers, looking desperate.
I returned your subjects to you, Ferhdessar. These people were loyal to Merzia up until their deaths.
Ferhdessar looked at the crowd. He had a powerful spell at the ready. It was undoubtedly Kasimirh who was talking to him. Where was he?
The voice laughed.
“Soon, your subjects will meet with the same fate,” Ferhdessar whispered. “Let’s see who’ll be laughing then.”
I expected a bit more gratitude. I helped you achieve your dream, didn’t I?
Ferhdessar ignored Kasimirh. He took a step forwards. The soldiers cried out for vengeance as they raised their weapons over their heads, their shouts becoming louder.
Ferhdessar observed them. Some of these men had nothing left to lose. It was up to him to exploit their grief. He raised his hands. Slowly, they calmed down. When everyone was quiet, Ferhdessar started to speak.
“Merzians! I feel your anger, and I hear your calls for revenge. Trust me, my heart cries for revenge as well. There’s nothing I’d rather do than storm up there to throw Kasimirh and his scum off the rocks.”
The crowd yelled. Shots were fired. Ferhdessar calmed the soldiers down with a gesture of his hand.
“Today is not the right time to take revenge. We will not fall into the trap that Kasimirh undoubtedly has set for us. He wants to draw us out, but he won’t succeed.”
Ferhdessar felt that the crowd was becoming dissatisfied. Those stupid soldiers didn’t understand that they would die before reaching Nadesh if they attacked right now, he grumbled to himself. Ferhdessar used magic to amplify his voice.
“Use the next few days to mourn your loved ones. Honour them by keeping your patience. You’ll have your chance to avenge them soon enough!”
It worked. The soldiers were on his side again. They raised a cheer in the direction of Nadesh. If Kasimirh could hear them he wouldn’t hear disheartened Merzians, but a military force that had just found another reason to fight. Ferhdessar looked at the crowd, feeling content. Afifa looked at him and gave him a nod of approval.
“Soon, Merzia will
avenge her people’s blood through victory!”
16
Ferhdessar slammed his hand on the table in the middle of the council chamber. The candleholders wobbled dangerously. Candle wax dripped onto the maps spread out in front of him. “How could this have happened?”
“In the middle of the night, more warriors joined Tokala. They had canons…” Anukasan began. He had just returned from a reconnaissance flight in the south. His forehead was beaded with sweat, because he had rushed to break the bad news to Ferhdessar as soon a possible.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Ferhdessar snarled.
Anukasan bowed his head. Ferhdessar looked at the tapestry of Wigg, the God of War. He shook his head. He had pictured this day differently. It should have been a day of celebration, but instead the bad news kept piling up.
Ferhdessar nodded at Anukasan. “I’m glad you returned unscathed. Have a good meal and get some rest.”
The generals were conferring loudly. Ferhdessar overheard plans to split up the army and drive back Tokala. Eoghan seemed eager to take on that role. Zander stressed that it was important to not radically change their plans. Branko was more worried about the bodies that Kasimirh had thrown onto the fortress.
Lost in thought, Ferhdessar stared at the depiction of Wigg. In the background the worldly army was fighting the devil. None of the plans Ferhdessar had made in the past had taken into consideration the fact that he had to recapture Nadesh. But lately, it had been all he’d concentrated on, even though it actually wasn’t important. There were only two roads into Nadesh: the main road and the narrow path down which Ferhdessar had fled from the citadel. Both were still in Merzian hands. On his arrival at the fortress, Ferhdessar had immediately aimed the canons at the roads. Not even a rat could escape the capital without him knowing, Ferhdessar thought, looking pleased.
“Zander, you are right. We continue our siege of Nadesh. The best we can do is ignore everything that happened today. Kasimirh was trying to provoke me, but we have the upper hand.”
Born in Light Page 11
