THE land became flat and soon hard and rocky. The sand seemed to drain and they could see a valley not far beyond. They raced toward it with what little strength they had and standing at the edge of the cliff, they could see palm trees, a city with a vast span of cylindrical buildings, and a large body of water that was right on the side of the cliff. They had found the city by the oasis! They ran down the other end, before being lifted by Vrihkhaḥ, who seemed to have enlarged in size. Making quickly down the other end, they came close by the gates but hid behind the rock face. Vrihkhaḥ had sensed something amiss.

There was a whole company of soldiers standing by it resolute. And not far off they could see a mass of steel clad individuals making toward the city. It was an army, and in front were chariots that made their way ahead. At the gate, a single man disembarked, and the group could tell what he was by the sash and sigils upon his raiment. They had been outpaced, for King Rṭyāshphaḥ’s army had made it to the city before they had. And looking behind as the army closed in, they could see a familiar pyramid-shaped form coming into view. Dread welled in them, for the structure they thought Iḷēhaḥ had felled was now alive. The Drasūvayeznd returned! But no steeds of astral form could be seen pulling it, nor was the orb of light at its zenith present.

They had to rethink their plan for they could not all go into the city; some would have to remain behind, bearing the brunt of the Sun, and keep watch. Not a very compelling proposal, but there was not much choice.

“This has complicated things quite a bit,” said Iḷēhaḥ as she sighed. She turned to the others. “I do not think it needs to be said, but Vrihkhaḥ will have to stay,” to which the wolf hung his head low, whimpering; “how I wish I could soak myself in a bath, but alas! it shall not be so.

“Feyūnhaḥ, Aiṛth, Sanyhaḥmān, and Tūmbṃār, you four shall have to find us camels and stock on provisions. No doubt King Rṭyāshphaḥ has already given details on me as well as Nakthaḥm, we did after all cause the greatest distress to him, yet Tūmbṃār, for all he knows, most likely thinks he is dead.”

To which Tūmbṃār scowled and wanted to retort, for he was obviously well and alive.

“I would risk Feyūnhaḥ having to go for not many know what it is you look like as it would seem, and I much doubt the King got a good look at you when we had escaped. The same is true to Sanyhaḥmān, and of course, for Aiṛth, all the Servants tend to look similar under their covering.” The priestess could not deny it, but nonetheless was sour over the statement. “Cover yourselves, and Aiṛth, you shall need to be leader and introduce yourselves; I would much think they would be suspicious otherwise. Even King Rṭyāshphaḥ, though he dared to fell you without proper cause, would not give details pertaining to what happened. Not a wise thing to suspect the Servants of the Gods.”

“Indeed, it is not, but it did help us that one time in Viprūtaram,” said Nakthaḥm fanning himself with his hand (of which little breeze he could catch).

“Of what do you mean?” asked Aiṛth suspicious. “You do not mean to say that Servants of the Gods have offended the people in some way?”

“Regardless of that!” interjected Iḷēhaḥ, glaring at Nakthaḥm, who glanced away.

They had not yet told her of what happened at Viprūtaram, regarding the priests (doing their best to keep themselves away from that issue at large), and instead said some misguided individuals were behind the kidnappings (which was partly true), yet they knew eventually they would have to speak of it, but now was not the time.

She cleared her throat. “Ahem! Regardless of that, we shall need you to be their escort; your words shall not be denied, I should think.”

“Of course, they shall not, Goddess Iḷēhaḥ!” said Aiṛth, to which Iḷēhaḥ sighed.

“Refrain from calling me a goddess,” she said, shaking her head. “Do not think I am somehow higher than you. Being graced to live in the Heavens does not make me higher than any of you; but even so, as I had said before, I am not one of the Dehaḥṃār, nor do I wish to command your respect. I, as are the rest of us, your friends.”

“I shall do my best,” she said with a stutter. But her suspicion if anything had continued to grow. It would seem they all had something to hide from one another.

With things decided, they waited for the soldiers to depart, for they would certainly not camp outside the city gates. In fact, the more Iḷēhaḥ thought about it, the more odd it seemed. It would not be as if the other domains would look kindly to this show of force. Or perhaps it was a display to prove themselves. There was no reason why the lord of this desert city would have to assent to the demands of the King unless the King decided to invade, which would be foolish indeed. If he stuck with his plan to invade Pedyṃhaḥ, then they could not possibly risk civil war; the other domains, especially Athruyam’s, would not keep quiet to such aggression; the Autirsāh were not to be underestimated on the field of battle. Yet it did little good to think of this, for perhaps Rṭyāshphaḥ was foolish enough to do so.

The man who spoke with the guards was allowed entrance after a careful exchange. The soldiers of the city knelt to him as the gates were opened. A few of the man’s soldiers followed, while the city company followed him inside. The rest then retreated into the desert toward the Drasūvayeznd as the sun began to set and covered the desert in red; blood following in the wake of the soldiers.