position here and new trade treaties with Pelasia, we hope for a significant increase in mercantile activity. And that means the suppression of what has been called a ‘plague’ of pirates in the waters north of here.”
Ghassan swallowed nervously; trouble was marching his way. The marshal smiled sadly.
“I am informed that one of the more notorious of the pirate captains is, in fact, your brother. Under normal circumstances, the very last thing I would do is attempt to pit you against him. However, commodore Jaral assures me that not only will you not allow your filial situation to come between you and duty, but that you are probably the only man capable of both outthinking and out-sailing him.”
“I will not, even as your commander, order you to do this…” the marshal began.
Ghassan saluted and straightened.
“You don’t have to, Marshal. Samir may be my brother, but he needs to be removed. I understand that.”
Tythias nodded.
“Good. Thank you, captain. I will leave the matter in your hands.”
Ghassan saluted again.
“Is there anything else, sirs?”
The governor shook his head, and Ghassan nodded, turned on his heel and strode from the room. It was an unhappy task, but they were absolutely right. Samir had to be taken out of the picture for the good of the Empire.
In which a homecoming is suffered
The Pelasian cataphracti, eight in number, in their gleaming fish-scale armour, came to a halt, four to each side of the coach. The driver waited, his horses stamping and snorting, while the escort commander approached the gate, requesting permission to enter. Asima leaned out of the window of the coach, glaring at their destination.
Even from here, where she could only make out the basic details of the soldiers, all in Imperial green, she could feel the animosity being projected at the black and steel clad soldiers. The Pelasian military, despite Prince Ashar’s excellent relations with the new Emperor, were not a popular sight in beleaguered and oppressed M’Dahz. The people had enjoyed only two weeks of freedom since the Pelasian withdrawal and here were a unit of that land’s elite cavalry at the gate. Unpleasant memories would rise, unbidden, to the fore in every citizen who saw them.
There was a brief discussion at the gate and the great wooden portal swung ponderously open. Asima sighed. In her youth, the walls of the town had fallen into disuse due to the uninterrupted centuries of peace. Now, even the gates remained shut.
Irritably, she ducked back inside and pulled across the curtain as the coach began to roll slowly on once again. Throughout the interminable journey across the barren landscape between central Pelasia and the borderlands, she had pondered and thought, planned and schemed. There was no way she would settle back in M’Dahz, but the current situation in Pelasia for her was untenable. Ashar had forbidden her from returning.
And so the plan had been born. It was ambitious; probably Asima’s most ambitious plan of all time. It would take a few years and a lot of planning, sprinkled with a judicious topping of luck. But it could work. King Ashar only maintained his hold on power in Pelasia through the respect and fear of the other nobles. The coup of the three satraps had changed things there forever. The ruler was no longer unreachable and immortal, and Ashar knew it.
So she would find a way to return to Pelasia through a different noble house. Half a dozen powerful satraps had lands stretching east toward the Imperial border and Asima knew that, if she had nothing else in the world, her looks and her brains alone could carry her to the top. She would find a way back across the border, entice and entrance one of the powerful nobles and use him to ingratiate her way back into court in Akkad. Ashar would never dare order one of his more powerful satraps to lose a wife.
The first thing to do would be to settle back in M’Dahz and wait for around half a year, living quietly and unobtrusively. She may even change her name; it might be expedient and give her an edge when she broke the rules and returned to Pelasia.
As she pondered, she heard the change in tone when the wheels of the carriage passed from the dusty, rocky sand of the desert road to the flagged streets of M’Dahz. Despite the fact that she no longer considered this flea pit her home and wanted nothing more than to be away from it and back to her beloved Akkad, she would have to spend some time here and had to admit that curiosity was getting the better of her. She pulled back the curtain.
They had passed through the Akkad Gate and were trundling along the main street toward the centre of town and they became the focus of attention to all as they passed. The evidence of M’Dahz’s return to Imperial control was everywhere. Imperial banners flew over the towers of the town. The propaganda for the reign of Ma’ahd on the walls to the town was being removed carefully and painstakingly by the citizens. Colour was returning slowly but surely.
But every face turned as the coach with its escort passed by. Every worker stopped in the middle of their task; every child or mother exiting a side street came to a halt. And every face hardened; every eye took on a look of intense hatred. Asima fumed. She could understand why they felt what they did, but it was so futile. These weren’t the same men who’d conquered this town. The man responsible for their misery was dead, by her hands no less. These miserable wretches should be thanking her; throwing petals before her. She had avenged them all!
The more she looked out, the more irritated she became. She had been forced into exile back in this dismal place and the people here were going to hate and resent her. Her anger rose to a climax as they reached the end of the long and level street and turned right, heading up the hill inland. On the corner, between the streets, stood the Pelasian temple with its tower. The building had been a landmark in M’Dahz as long as Asima could remember and had figured in their rooftop chases as children.
At some point in the past few days, revenge for the Pelasian occupation had been carried out on the temple. The white plastered walls were charred where the flames had licked out of windows and doors. The entire building had been gutted, and heavy wooden beams propped up the tower, which was leaning at a precarious angle.
She growled quietly to herself and settled back into her seat. From the directions the coach was taking, they must be heading for the palace complex of the town’s governor. Remembering the day she was taken from here, she found herself wondering who was in charge of M’Dahz now. Still grumbling unhappily, Asima sank back into the seat and walked herself through her plans once more as the carriage trundled on up the uneven street.
Several minutes later, she heard the cataphracti rein in their horses and the carriage rolled to a halt. There was conversation nearby and, curiosity getting the best of her, she pulled back the curtains once more. The small party had stopped in the plaza before the gate of the palace complex. The escort captain was speaking to a small group of well-dressed men by the entrance and, from the sound of the rising voices, there seemed to be a problem.
Everything else and now another problem? Asima ground her teeth. She’d been thrown out of this place and sent to an unfamiliar country, only to be then sent back once she’d become so thoroughly native to Pelasia that she would never fit in here again and now there was another problem?
Before she had time to decide whether it was a good idea or not, her anger had driven her to fling open the coach door and storm out into the bright sun, directly toward the group.
The Pelasian captain, his helm clutched beneath one arm while his other hand was busy making argumentative gestures, turned in surprise at the sound, as did the others with him.
“My lady. Please return to the coach. I am dealing with matters.”
Asima snarled at him and turned the most vicious glare she could muster on the tall, thin and elegant man in his silks and satins; clearly the new governor and, from his paler skin tone, just as evidently an Imperial import from across the sea.
“Be quiet, captain. I have had enough of this” she barked without looking at the soldier.
Ignoring the blustering noises from the startled captain, she narrowed her eyes at the governor.
“I can assure you, Excellency, that I have no more wish to be here than you have for me to be. However, I need a comfortable place to bide my time until I can get out of your hair once again. I will cause you no trouble and
