“Our generous nature?” suggested Tahnoon with a smile as he hands came to his belly and gave it a little rub.
“No, certainly not that,” said Ming with a shake of his head. “Seeing as that particular quality is not in evidence, nor has it ever been to my knowledge.”
“My friendly face, perhaps?” offered the fat man as a second suggestion.
Ming shook his head and chuckled again, “That must be it. Now, you’ve come here to discuss Corancil and the northern armies again I suppose?”
“Our spies send ominous messages,” said Tahnoon as he sat down with a thump on a large cushion near the table. “How do you accustom your backside to those wooden torture devices? You darklings have strange customs indeed.”
“The northern armies of Corancil are gathered around Das’von which is more than eight thousand miles as the dragon flies and much further than that for marching. He is a danger, I admit, but not at present. We must focus on uniting the tribes and let the northerner do as he will. Then, if he ever manages to march a significant force into the southlands we can easily defeat him with the combined cavalry force of the nomads. Nothing can stand against ten thousand mounted warriors.”
“We cannot unite the tribes of the Sands during only nighttime hours,” said Tahnoon as he looked up at the heavy black tent cover that separated them from the rays of the sun. Ras is the most important deity in all the world and you cannot participate in His worship. This is the obstacle to your plan and it must be overcome. However, if these strangers are from the north and arrive in the Sands so ill prepared for its difficulties it is possible that Corancil has found a means to travel great distances without a march.”
“You’ve waxed on poetically about these portals he is creating on numerous occasions but even if they worked how to get an entire army through them with supplies, beasts of burdens, camp followers, and all the other necessary items of an army? The water alone would be impossible.”
“We cannot underestimate the danger this man represents,” said Tahnoon as he helped himself to a bowl of dates that sat on a little plate nearby. He popped one entirely into his mouth with a smooth, and well-practiced motion, and spat the seed into a bronze spittoon not far away. “It is true we must unite the nomads, but that cannot be achieved until you find a way to travel in the daylight hours. They will never give you respect if you cannot attend to the ceremonies of Ras. Even the blasphemous Golden Worm nomads give Him ceremony.”
“It is a dilemma,” said Ming leaning back in his chair and yawning pointedly. “One we have discussed many times before.”
Tahnoon shook his head, “Yes, you know my opinion on the subject. The darkling queen is our answer. You hate her, yes, but she has a means to resolve this issue.”
“Until Corancil stands at the Rocks of the Three Knives with an army of fifty-thousand warriors I will not go to her and beg,” said the Black Rider suddenly getting to his feet and staring down at the fat man. His hands clenched at his side and his jaw was tight and tense.
“And I know your opinion,” said Tahnoon popping another date in his mouth. “That being the case, perhaps we can talk about these northerners who will arrive in four days.”
“Unless the desert swallows their souls,” said Ming unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
“You must learn to keep disdain of our ways to yourself,” said Tahnoon and with a sharp ting, spat a seed into the spittoon with perfect accuracy. “There are many among us of strong religious beliefs and your own lack of faith might be disturbing to that… majority.”
“It bothers you not,” said the Black Rider, resumed his seat, and stared at the parchments on the table.
“I am more concerned with earthly rather than spiritual matters,” replied Tahnoon. “But you cannot underestimate the fervor or faith. Those that believe are willing to make sacrifices that others will not. It was our manipulation of those of faith which propelled you to the lofty position within the Tribe of the Black Horsemen where you currently reside.”
“I grow weary of the prattling of priests,” said Ming with a sigh. “Those damned Farriders are all that stand between me and total control of the desert. Once that is achieved we can easily capture Temin of the Dwarves, Dnubcia of the insect men, and even Tanta of the Sea.”
“There are other tribes beside the Farriders who stand opposed to your rule,” said Tahnoon with an idle look at the steadily emptying bowl of dates.
“None of consequence, as you well know,” replied Ming with a sneer. “Once the Farriders fall under my sway the rest will come along, even the Golden Worm.”
“The Worms are of no military significance although their magical power is beyond compare. They will submit to whoever pays the most and will work diligently enough after that. But it is your disdain of religious matters that causes us the most distress with the Farriders. Perhaps, when taking the omens before battle you might consider actually glancing at the lamb entrails?”
“Witches, superstitious,” said Ming with a wave of his hand. “Why do people believe in such nonsense?”
“The mind wants reason,” said Tahnoon. “When it looks at a cloud it sees a dragon or a horse where no such beast exists.”
“Is it not reason enough that I, with my military experience, believe that it is a good day for battle? What more reason could there be? The entrails of a goat? That is nonsense and I find it wearisome and hypocritical nonsense at that.”
“Men are strange creatures,” said Tahnoon. “Without a reason they will balk at even the simplest of commands. But, if properly motivated, indoctrinated with religious fervor, they will do as commanded without a second’s hesitation.”
“I do not want such simpletons around me,” said Ming. “I want men who see the world as it is. Men who see an enemy so that we might slay him.”
“I agree, those are good men with which to surround yourself,” said Tahnoon. “But, most men cannot live up to such lofty expectations. Most men are simpletons and they must be treated with care for even though simple, they can prove invaluable in many ways. You know that I am correct, Ming. Ever since you crawled out of that hole of yours, nearly dead, and found your way into my tent, you’ve known that I possess the wisdom you need to become the conqueror you never were below.”
“There were a few setbacks below,” said Ming with a snort and a nonchalant wave of his left hand. “I will admit as much.”
“It was because of your lack of religious piety. You must learn that the vast majority of people can never hope to achieve our level of rationality. They live in a dream world, a foggy facsimile of the real world, where reality is a dream and their own fantasies reality.”
“As a boy I hoped to teach people differently,” said Ming with a sigh. “To lead a revolution against the darkling queens and eventually conquer all below.”
“The dreams of a child,” said Tahnoon and ate yet another of the sweet dates. “In this grownup world we must not try to educate people but use their ignorance for our own benefit. If they believe drinking the sand will quench their thirst then we must somehow use that to our advantage. You can save a person from a wild lion but you cannot save him from himself. Have I taught you nothing over the years?”
“You have taught me,” said Ming and slowly nodded his head, “and taught me well. I hear your words. Now, what shall we do with these northerners when they arrive? Torture? Gentle kindness?”
“I think kindness,” said the fat man as he reached into the bowl but found it empty. He looked over and shook his head sadly. “Your austerity is most unwelcome. You must learn to treat your guests with hospitality. It is the way of the nomad.”
“Kindness it will be,” said Ming to Tahnoon and then turned to face the back of the tent and called out to the folds, “More dates!” Then he turned back to Tahnoon, “or I will be accused of being a bad host and, as I recall, there are few things worse to be called than that.”
“You learn, you learn. Still, we must garner as much information from these northerners as possible. It is clear they are spies of Corancil here to seek out as much information about us and our status with the other nomads as possible. They will most certainly have some well-fabricated and elaborate lie prepared for us. We should pretend to believe this nonsense while pouring sweet wine for them in the comfort of your tent. Now, do you think we should convince them that we are weak or that we are strong so that they will report as much to the warrior of the north?”
