city. Fires dotted the waterfront and dock area and spread into the warehouses that lined the wharf. The conflagration’s roar grew louder, and the screams and shouts of terrified people mingled with the clanging of alarm bells and rumble of hooves and feet.
Talsy squinted at the distant city, wishing she had a spyglass. Something black emerged from the sea like a creeping carpet of shadow, engulfed the docks and filtered into the city. Flames leapt in its wake, and a line of defenders tried to stem the sable tide. Talsy swallowed bile. So that was where the Black Riders had gone. Not over the mountains or up the coast.
The Hashon Jahar rode out of the sea. They swarmed into the city, unhindered by the walls that faced the landward side, and even Garsh's mighty army could not hold them back. Talsy sat on the warm sand and watched the city fall. In the gathering dusk, the ragged line of torch-bearing defenders marked the invaders’ progress, retreating before them. War drums boomed, summoning soldiers to fight, and trumpets bleated as officers tried to rally them.
The world seemed to become still and hushed as the cries of dying people carried on the wind. Talsy shivered, not only because of the frigid wind that blew in from the sea, but with horror at the carnage. As the number of torch-bearing defenders dwindled, lights fled the city like fireflies leaving a nest, filling the two coastal roads with streams of sparkles.
Within a few hours, the mighty city of Rashkar fell, the roads out of it clogged with terrified citizens. The Black Riders swarmed after them in a pitiless tide, snuffing out the torches along with the lives of those who bore them. The shadowy advance spread up the roads, extinguishing even the occasional twinkling light that broke away and headed into the wilderness. By midnight, the last few distant lights vanished, plunging the land into darkness, save for the garish flames of the burning city. As the fires died, a distant rumbling carried on the breeze, along with the stench of smoke and burning flesh.
By the time the chill morning dew fell in a gentle haze, silence had descended upon the land. The first rays of dawn lighted a scene of utter devastation. A jumble of fallen walls and smouldering timbers lay under a pall of black smoke. Nothing remained of mighty Rashkar, capital of Manshur and seat of King Garsh's throne, but rubble. As the gathering light crept across the land, Talsy mounted and rode along the beach to a cave she had discovered on her earlier visits to the beach. There, she unsaddled the horse and tethered it, setting up a camp on the shelving rock. Being above the high water mark, the cave would make a dry home. Something told her that she was safe here, hidden from the Hashon Jahar. Shock and exhaustion forced her into an uneasy sleep.
When Talsy woke, the sun was past noon, and she went out to study the ruined city, which the Hashon Jahar’s black mass still filled. Smoke rose in lazy spirals, and the harbour was empty, the ships sunk or fled. An hour later, the Black Riders mounted their steeds and formed into their four-abreast columns. Two black lines emerged, one heading away, the other towards her, and she experienced a twinge of fear.
They rode along the coastal road, a mere two miles inland, too close for comfort. She contemplated staying to watch them pass, longing for a better look at them, but resisted the dangerous temptation and retreated into the cave. Within its cool confines, she listened to the approaching thunder of their steeds' hooves, remembering Horran. Harness and armour jingled and clinked. The steeds snorted, but the Black Riders rode in silence, apart from the rumble of galloping hooves.
Talsy’s heart thudded as they drew closer and passed by, and her horse tossed his head and rolled his eyes. She decided that if they discovered her, she would run into the sea, for she would rather drown than be torn apart. The thunder of their passage seemed to go on all afternoon. Their numbers must have been in tens of thousands, and it was only half of them. When at last the rumble faded, she ran outside to watch the last of them ride away at a full gallop. Rashkar was a sprawling mass of rubble and ashes. Amid the debris were the bodies of tens of thousands of people, yet she shed no tears for them. Perhaps she was so much like a Mujar now that she had even become as uncaring as one, she mused.
The following day, scavengers arrived in the form of clouds of crows, gulls and vultures, packs of wild dogs and wolves. A ship sailed up to the harbour, turned and headed along the coast. She did not doubt that whatever town had sent it would be massacred before the ship returned, so she resisted the urge to run onto the beach and wave to try to flag it down, for she was safer here now. Several ships came and went over the next few days, then no more arrived. After a week, the carrion-eaters left the remnants for the maggots and worms.
Each day, she took her horse out to let him graze, noticing that many horses had survived the battle and wandered around the city. Some still wore harness, and these she caught and divested of their badges of slavery. A few were injured, and she tended their wounds as well as she could. After a while, she realised that she did not need the beast she kept and released him to run with the others, since she could always catch him again if she needed.
As the weeks passed, her supplies ran out, so she resorted to fishing and hunting game for the pot. The cultivated lands filled with weeds and grass, but she found vegetables to dig up. She was occupied with this one day when a lone rider approached the city and stopped to stare at the ruins for several minutes. He turned his horse away, then spotted her and rode over.
'When did Rashkar fall?' he asked, as he reined in his horse.
She looked up at a rather plump man, pale now with shock. 'About three weeks ago.'
'How long was the battle?'
'About half a day.'
He paled further. 'How's that possible? Rashkar had the mightiest army in the land.'
'They came out of the sea.'
'Black Riders?'
She nodded.
'On ships?'
'No, they rode out of the sea.'
He gaped at her, and Talsy turned away to continue her digging
He dismounted. 'How did you survive?'
'I wasn't in the city. I was on the beach.'
The man gazed at the sea, his expression dazed and hopeless. 'All the great cities are falling. Jishan, Rashkar, Margan, Lorton, Vishnar, Horran…'
She looked up. 'Horran's fallen?'
'Two months ago. Is that where you're from?'
'No. I passed through there.' She dug up a potato and added it to her pile. The man watched her with hungry eyes.
'I could sure do with a good meal.'
'Sorry.' She shook her head. 'I only have enough for myself.'
'I could take you to a town.'
'What for? It's safer here.'
'I suppose you're right. Don't you get lonely?'
'No.' She shot him a frown. 'Be on your way, mister. If you need a fresh mount, there are plenty wandering around. Take your pick, no one owns them anymore.'
The rider took the hint, caught a fresh horse and rode away.
Another month passed in an endless routine of fishing or hunting, digging vegetables and cooking simple meals. In between, she sat on the beach and stared out to sea, lost in memories of the gentle man who had been her companion and friend. She missed him terribly, and cursed the hateful people who had condemned him to a living death because he was different.
Two months after Rashkar's fall, weird creatures emerged from the sea to sun themselves on the beach. The beasts had rainbow skins, frond-like fins and fin-tipped tails. They slipped back into the ocean when she approached, but more and more of them appeared, gathering at times to sing strange moaning songs. Sometimes, at night, she would listen to their mournful dirges, and once she crept out in the moonlight to watch them dance on the glittering moon path in the sea.
When she ran to join them, they vanished beneath the waves without a ripple, but she danced anyway and sang a song of sorrow. Peculiar beasts also emerged from the forests or flew down from the sky. Some were huge, bird-like creatures with butterfly wings of many iridescent colours, long necks and beaks. They settled on the sand and scooped it up until their crops were full, then flew away. The land creatures were equally colourful and strange,
