Engraved - The Hunted Warrior

Chapter 10.1 - The King of the Endless Plains

Alam was pushed, and Tajar was dragged, into the dark, sprawling stone building. Inside was thick with the smell of ingrained smoke and men who bathed less often than they might. It was the first stone building Alam had been inside, and its narrow gloominess was not to his liking. After being jostled through the rough corridors he was pushed into a large, round room made to look like a traditional tent on a grand scale. A fire pit dominated the centre of the room, with its corresponding opening in the roof above. The ceiling was supported with intricately carved beams of wood of beautiful craftsmanship. Around the walls silk banners, embroidered with depictions of legendary accomplishments, hung proudly. A number of low dining tables and cushions adorned the room. But what grabbed Alam's instant attention was the round, aging man sitting on a wide chair near the firepit. On his right sat a diminutive woman of similar age, who was so occupied with her embroidery that she scarcely took the time to look up and see those entering the room. At their feet lay a pack of lean hunting dogs.

The warriors dropped Tajar on the ground and forced Alam to one knee. They then knelt and awaited their chief's word.

"What have you brought me, Nurlan?" asked the chief.

Nurlan rose. "King Kirill, these two claim to be Empa. They were found on the western border of our land."

"Tell me all," ordered Kirill. Nulan recounted, with excellent detail, all his dealings with Alam and Tajar.

"And what do you think of them, Nurlan? Do you think they are spies or poachers?"

"I bow to your wisdom, King." said Nurlan with bowed head.

"Humour me. Everyone knows that your men consider you wise." Alam thought he heard a touch of sarcasm in the King's voice.

"As you wish," nodded Nurlan. "No, I do not think they are poachers. They would be very stupid poachers indeed to come into our lands with just two people and hope to be able to lead a worthwhile number of beasts away. My observation of them, so far, is that they are not stupid. Unwise? Undoubtedly. Naive? Certainly. But not stupid. More importantly, they possess none of the tools that cowherds use. As to them being spies, I think not."

"Why, noble Nurlan, do you say that?" asked the King.

"Because they were carrying these." Nurlan held forth Alam's axe and Tajar's unstrung composite bow. Whether Nurlan had deliberately stood in the shaft of light from the hole in the roof, or it was some timely accident of life, the dazzling result was the same - the beam of light twinkled and flared off the weapons as if they were from an enchanted land. All in the room gasped; Kirill's wife took her eyes from her embroidery momentarily; even Alam, who had seem them many times before, was struck by their beauty.

Kirill was the first to find his voice.

"And how do these weapons explain that they are not spies?" he asked.

"Spies try to mingle and be unseen. They blend in. There is no way anyone carrying these would be able to blend in. Quite the opposite. For a moment I considered that they are assassins; that perhaps the bowman was to shoot his target and the axeman to protect him until he was able to make his killing strike. But that doesn't make sense because they were nowhere near the only possible assassination targets in Khashbal, and were heading due north away from any targets, rather than towards them."

"You think a lot about assassination do you, Nurlan?"

"I think a lot about protecting my king and clan."

"Of course you do."

"They also had this in their possession," said Nurlan as he approached and handed the engraved box to Kirill.