Chapter XXX

From the frosty peaks of the southern mountains of Arx one could see the city of Tajiri. Sprawled out throughout that region of Sabura were the jungles, with trees almost as tall as the mountains themselves. Yet the great tower, plated in copper, that stood at the center of Tajiri could be seen from anywhere in those dense jungles, so long as you had a small hole in the canopy which allowed you to see the sky. From the peaks, if you strained carefully you could see the many roads cut through the jungle, with countless tiny villages cropped up along them. The people of these villages handled the trade, hunting, and even agriculture that kept Tajiri rich and full of life. When the villages fell under attack the villagers would fall back to the city, which was walled, and said to be impregnable.

Malachi had been the messenger for the royal family of Arx for many years. In being sent all over the kingdom, all over the world, he had seen many wondrous sights, met many incredible people, but even he was still in awe when he finally laid eyes on the front gates of Tajiri.

His guide smiled when he saw his surprise. “Take a good look, friend,” the guide said, “And realize that we built that city without use of your stone magics.” The walls of the city must have been over one-hundred feet high, with wooden spikes at the top to deter any person, or creature, who had managed to climb. Yet, for how intimidating the walls were they were also beautiful, with copper, bronze, and silver plating. The gates of the city were two massive wooden doors, with peepholes about eye-level, and spear-holes gut level. On top of the walls archers patrolled. All of them carried bows taller than they were. The archers were clad in tan leather armor, with white caps on their heads and curved swords tied to their belts. The warriors standing down by the front gates had spears twice as long as a man is tall, with small, curved blades at their hips, and round shields on their left arms. The shields were strapped tightly to their forearms, so that they could still use both hands on their spears.

The guide left Malachi to contemplate the impressive sight before him and walked off, singing to himself. Malachi steeled himself for the meeting he was hoping to arrange, and approached the front gates of Tajiri. As he drew near, the men at the gates crossed their spears in front of him and blocked the way. “Stranger, what business do you have in Tajiri?”

Malachi couldn't blame them for their suspicion. Last time people with skin as pale as his came down into Sabura it was to raid their villages, kidnap children and set fire to their homes. Sure, these raiders had never been inside the city, but they weren't going to take any chances on letting one in.

“I am come on behalf of Aryn, the Queen of Arx, who has put an end to the senseless raids and attacks on your people. She would have me speak with Queen Morowa about some important business.” Malachi gave a polite bow.

“Search him,” one of the warriors said.

Malachi reached into his pouch and produced a small dagger, still in its sheathe, and handed it over to them. He knew he wouldn't be allowed to bring weapons into the city, but he'd have been a fool to travel so far with no weapons at all. It was better that he handed over the weapon he carried than to have them discover that he was hiding something.

The warriors took the dagger, and then patted him down. When they found no other weapons one of them said, “Enter the city, and understand that should you break any laws we will know. You do not exactly blend in.” The warriors all smiled at him. Their teeth seemed impossibly white in contrast to their dark skin.

“I understand,” Malachi said, smiling back.

Coming inside the city of Tajiri was even more breath-taking. It was a truly thriving metropolis, richer, busier, and more beautiful even than Aius, the capital of Arx. Almost all of the citizens walking through the city streets wore white clothing, often with hoods, to keep the heat of the sun off of them. The cloth they wore was an extremely light material, the sort that did not insulate at all. It was so light, that if the sunlight hit it a certain way Malachi could see right through it, and he tried not to stare at what the sunlight often revealed. Most of the women wore golden jewelry, with precious stones, even the ones who seemed like lowly servants.

From what Malachi could tell, there was a specific division of labors in Tajiri. For the most part, the men were the hunters, the warriors, and the heavy laborers. The women were the smiths, the potters, and the religious and political leaders.

Enormous statues lined the walls, made of clay but with gold coating them. The statues appeared to be each of men and women from long ago. Statues of heroes? Ancestors? Malachi wasn't sure.

He'd expected to have to enter the impossibly tall tower in the center of the city in order to find Queen Morowa's throne room, but he found the Queen of Tajiri sitting upon her golden throne, out in front of the tower, watching the goings on of the city. Warriors stood not far off, but reclined on the ground close to her were seven handsome young men, each with their hair in braids. Queen Morowa herself appeared to be a woman in her mid-twenties, with precious stones woven into her braided hair. She wore a headdress with dangling, golden bells, and a white dress with no shoulder straps, which was held tight around her upper arms and chest, leaving her smooth, onyx shoulders exposed. From her ears hung many earrings, long strings on which were hanging gold, precious stones, and sometimes cut bones. Her face was beautiful, with pronounced cheek bones and alluring eyes, eyes that you could swear saw more than you hoped to reveal. Shockingly, the color of her irises was ruby red, but this was not so terrifying as Malachi would have expected had anyone told him of them. Rather they just added to the strange beauty that was Queen Morowa.

Morowa looked over Malachi as he awkwardly drew near. “An Arxian? This time not in full armor? Come closer.”

Malachi obeyed, and once he was just a few feet away from the men reclined in front of her throne, he dropped to his knees before her. “Your majesty, I come on behalf of Queen Aryn of Arx. She requests your aid.”

“We have not forgotten Queen Aryn's kindness to us in dealing with Marquis Husam. Our people sang songs of joy and danced all night when their children were returned to them. What aid does our friend need?” Morowa asked.

“The very fact that she punished Husam for his actions has caused a civil war in Arx.” It was an exaggeration, though given that the punishment of Husam had contributed to starting the war he felt no qualms about exaggerating a little. “Her enemies would see Husam freed. She requests your help in holding onto the throne, so that she may continue to bring justice to the noble houses who do harm to Arx's friends.”

Morowa considered a moment, “What are the odds against her?”

“Every noble house, save for one, is expected to be fighting against her, your Majesty. Only peasant militias, the Church, and a small contingent of soldiers from the West are expected to be fighting on her side.”

“Then the odds are not good,” Morowa sighed. “You understand that you are asking me to side with the probable loser in this war?”

Malachi took in a sharp breath, and his heart sank. “Yes, your Grace...I realize that.”

“Very well,” Morowa said. She waved her hand to one of the men reclining, who stood at her implied command. “Go and fetch my sister, Mansa. Tell her that she will have to rule Tajiri in my absence for the time being. Then return here, you and all my other husbands will be accompanying me to war.”

“You're going to help us?” Malachi asked in disbelief, as the man Morowa spoke to walked off to do as he was bid.

“I'm going off to war, to fight beside someone who has done a great thing for my people, going to fight against impossible odds. Just imagine the stories they will tell of me when it is done!” Morowa stood from her throne and nudged one of her other husbands with her knee, “Jibri, please prepare my chariot.”

“Yes, my love,” Jibri said. He stood, gave her a brief kiss, and then ran off.

“Guban,” she said to another of her husbands, “Go gather the warriors together. We will take half the army with us for this, the rest will remain home to protect the city.”

“Understood, darling.”

“With all due respect-” Malachi began.

“A phrase often spoken before something disrespectful,” Morowa said.

“I...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-”

“Finish what you were about to say.”

“Aye, your majesty. I was wondering, do you think only half the army will be enough?”

“I should think ten thousand fighting men plus twenty shamans should be enough to help your queen stay in power and to help keep this city safe from invaders, yes.”

Malachi's eyes widened at the sound of this. To think that there were twenty thousand men protecting that city alone was staggering. But then his mind caught onto something else, “Shamans?”

“Yes,” Morowa said.

“What is a shaman?”

“Your word would be 'priest.'” Morowa answered. “One capable of communing with the spirits of nature and healing our wounds.”

Within a few hours the highly disciplined and exceedingly well-trained warriors gathered together, with their horses, their supplies, and all the weapons they'd bring with them for the war. Malachi watched as warriors said goodbye to their families. They took with them little totem charms, worn as a necklace, which were supposed to make sure the spirits of their ancestors protected them. Not a single wife shed a tear as her husband went off to war, but many children cried then they heard their fathers were leaving.

Queen Morowa's chariot was made of bronze and polished brass, pulled by two white horses. In the chariot with her was a large, wicker shield, with tanned leather stretched over it, and a pole with a long, curved blade on the end. Each of her husbands rode a white horse, wore leather armor, and had a curved sword at his hip.

Many other Tajiri soldiers, to Malachi's surprise, mounted the backs of elephants. He'd never seen these beasts before; animals with thick gray skin, long noses acting like arms, tusks as long as scimitars, and feet so large they would crush even the bears of Shadia under them. If Malachi had seen these creatures in the wild he'd have thought them savage monsters and fled from them.

Truly, there was no reason for Malachi to stay and watch the army gather, but the sight was so impressive that he could not take his eyes off of them.

With a sound like a great earthquake the army of Tajiri began its march, with Queen Morowa's gleaming chariot leading the way.

. . .

Through her bedroom window Sarahi could see the paladins and geomancers in front of the Grand Cathedral. The paladins all either discussed strategy or sparred, whereas the geomancers worked with the priests to create as many golems as they could. If the golems became necessary during the upcoming war it would mark the first time in over two-hundred years that golems were used to fight Arxians.

There, beside the paladins, Sarahi saw the monument that stood where the obelisk of the Law once was, “The Law can be stated as thus: 'Focus on embodying virtue.' The greatest virtues are Compassion, Justice, Courage, Wisdom, and Patience. Most important of these is Compassion. Ergo let love be the whole of the Law. Live your life by love, and if you do so the rest of the Law will come naturally, for it will no longer be written on stone, but upon your heart.” Over sixteen years ago the whole of the Law was still displayed on an enormous stone obelisk in that very spot, as it had been for centuries. It was during the siege of the capital that demons had smashed it to pieces. She'd planned to have the whole obelisk restored, but all of the priests, monks, nuns, and even the Arch-Bishop argued over what it said. No one could come to a true consensus, so she did what she could to create a monument that at least reminded people of the spirit of the Law, if not its exact words. With all of this division in Arx, though, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe the spirit of the Law was not enough. Or perhaps the monument didn't fully capture that spirit. For all of Arx's history the Law had united the people together, there had never been a full-on civil war before. Sure, noble houses fought each other from time to time, but nothing on this scale.

“Wishing you were down there?” Milo asked as he entered Sarahi's room.

“I wish I could do anything right now,” Sarahi said. She couldn't stand being so powerless. Not only was she no longer Queen but she had lost her powers as a paladin due to one poor suggestion. It seemed to her more than a bit unfair that one bad decision would cost her so much after a lifetime of moral righteousness, but she was hardly the type to attempt to argue with God.

Milo walked over to Sarahi and wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her into a tight and affectionate embrace. “I know this must be hard for you. I'm sorry.”

Sarahi returned the embrace. Not long ago she would have been terrified that someone would see them and suspect Aryn's true parentage. Now that the affair was out in the open she felt, strangely, free. For so many years she'd bottled up her feelings inside, treated Milo as if he was just a friend, or just her bodyguard when other people were nearby. Only on rare occasions were these two able to find a moment to themselves, some small span of time in which they could find a private place and touch each other, lovingly, without fear. Having to keep the secret for so long was torture. It was a cruel prank that fate was playing on her, where she could finally openly tell the world she loved Milo, and what a wonderful man she thought he was, but at the cost of a war that would tear the kingdom apart and claim the lives of thousands.

Well, if the price was to be that high Sarahi would make full use of what the blood of the Arxian people was soon going to purchase. Milo was hers, and hers alone, and she could finally take full advantage of that without fear.

Milo was caught off guard when Sarahi leaned up and pulled him into a fierce and passionate kiss. The door was still open, as was the window, and it was even still broad daylight, but her passion was so overwhelming that he leaned into it. Her lips felt so perfect, as they had every time since the first time they kissed. He ran a hand up her back to the back of her head, his other hand down to her hip to pull her body even closer. Their hips were grinding together, and Sarahi's tongue frantically probed and explored Milo's mouth. The feeling was exhilerating. It was as if they were seventeen again, in the height of their passions, but it was more than that. Sixteen years of pent up emotions poured out all at once. Tears of joy and of release began to flow from Sarahi's eyes as she kissed this man she'd loved all of her life, and violently pushed him down onto her bed.

Milo was again surprised when Sarahi pushed him so hard. For a moment he was still dizzy as Sarahi straddled his hips and kissed his neck. Her fingertips frantically untied the straps holding his armor together. “Ah! S-Sarahi, the door's still o-open...” he gasped out.

“I don't care,” Sarahi said as she forced his breast-plate off of him, along with the shoulder pauldrons. His armor included no cod-piece to cover his loins, not the armor he wore around the castle anyway, so she could feel him harden under her. This spurred her on even more, despite his protest about their lack of privacy. At the moment she didn't care who saw. She would have ravished this man in front of the whole world.

Milo soon found he cared less and less by the second about being seen either. What did it matter anyway? It wasn't as if it was a secret any more. Besides, it was hard to think about that when Sarahi's nails were raking down his bare chest and her loins pressed so tightly against his. He leaned up and kissed her neck in turn. He bit her ear-lobe as his hands untied the laces on the back of her dress.

“Just rip the damn thing off!” Sarahi commanded him, as she frantically undid his belt.

Any other time Milo would have hesitated to rip one of Sarahi's dresses. The one time he had ripped a dress off of her before she found she regretted commanding him to do it later on, when she wanted to wear it again, but under the circumstances he didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed the dress with two hands and split it in half, bared her torso.

Sarahi pressed her soft breasts against Milo's muscled chest and forced him down onto his back again as she forced his trousers off. Once Milo was nude Sarahi removed her tattered dress the rest of the way as well and lowered herself onto him.

Milo certainly wasn't ready for how fast this had progressed, but he wasn't about to argue, especially now that Sarahi had taken him inside of her. His back arched and her muscular thighs squeezed his hips, and she held him in place as she had her way with him. Sixteen years' worth of repressed lust was finally to be satisfied, sixteen years' worth of tension released.

Milo and Sarahi weren't sure when, but at some point during their passionate copulation, which, for the first time since their honeymoon, was as loud and as wild as they wished, a servant must have shut the door for them. Perhaps out of respect, perhaps out of modesty, or perhaps even out of disgust. They didn't care. All that mattered to them for now was each other.

Hours later they lied in Sarahi's bed and held each other, reflecting on their bliss. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Milo called out, “Who is it?” Until now if anyone had knocked on Sarahi's door after the two of them had made love there was no way he would have answered the door. It felt freeing to not have to worry about any of that anymore.

“Oh...it's Shamira...” the young lady's voice was nervous, obviously embarrassed. Milo couldn't help but think it was a good thing she hadn't come by earlier, when the door was open and he and Sarahi were in the throes of animal passion. “Her majesty is calling a war meeting...she wants you and her mother to attend.”

“We'll be right there!” Sarahi called out. The two of them listened and heard the sound of Shamira walking off.

“Our daughter needs our counsel,” Milo said before he rolled off of the bed and searched for his trousers. To his surprise, Sarahi had thrown them clear across the room and they hung off of the top of the wardrobe. Sarahi smiled serenely to herself, admiring Milo's posterior as he reached up to grab his pants. “Most young ladies her age don't want to hear what their parents have to say.”

“Most young ladies her age aren't the Queen,” Sarahi said. Once Milo had re-dressed himself she gently pushed past him and looked through the wardrobe for a new dress to wear, since someone had ripped her other dress in half.

When they arrived at the war room they saw that Aryn, Gianni, Tamas, and Arch-Bishop Livana were already there. They looked over the map of Arx. Aryn looked up as Milo and Sarahi arrived, “Glad you could join us, mother...father,” she said, not sure whether to smile or frown as she said it. The fact that Milo was her father the whole time was something she was still getting used to, she still wasn't sure how to feel about it.

“What's the situation?” Sarahi asked.

“Scouts reported that the lords of Arx met here,” Aryn pointed to Migdal, “At Count Osias castle, and that they each had soldiers with them, but nowhere near the bulk of their armies. A letter one of our spies intercepted suggests that the lords have sent for their armies. They're calling them to an attempt to take the capital.” Aryn pointed to each of the counties and marches on the map that were against them. “When their armies arrive the capital will be surrounded on all fronts except the southeast, in the direction of the March of Nagav. Hopefully when my messenger, Malachi returns he will bring allies from that direction, but we can't be sure, and we'll still be surrounded everywhere else.”

“Peasant militias will flank the lords' armies,” Milo said. “All the towns and villages already sent their militias here, to the capital, to help defend you, so much so that there are camps outside the city walls just to hold them all, but when the other villages receive word they'll attack the lords from behind.”

Aryn shook her head. “Given that they don't have enough horses, though, to form a cavalry, neither do they have the kind of military discipline it takes to cross that much distance in a short time we can't count on them to arrive before the lords' armies get to the city, though.”

“Then fortify the bridges,” Sarahi said, pointing out four large bridges over the rivers that surrounded the capital. “Choke points like that provide a major advantage to smaller armies.”

“In fact,” Milo added, “I would suggest destroying two of the bridges for the time being, force them to use one of the other two, one of which is the same bridge Malachi can bring allies across. The more congested their forces are the better.”

“Good, now we got something we can work with,” Aryn said. “Especially since all the kingdom's geomancers are on our side. They won't have anyone who can quickly create new bridges.”

“There is one other idea that has come to mind, your majesty,” Arch-Bishop Livana said. “It regards those geomancers.”

“Do tell.”

“We'd have to slow golem production for the time being, but I have an idea for a shock and awe assault on Migdal keep. They can destroy the bridge behind them on the way back. If it works, the rebellious nobles may either all be dead, or, hopefully, will be so terrified that they'll want to stop the war right then and there.”