Chapter 7: A New Caliph

Umar Dar Hassar, 35^th Omniscient Ruler of Creight (called the Caliph), detested this portion of the journey. He dismounted his sedan chair – carried by four of his largest soldier for the past 49 days – and looked at the imposing Alderbrecht Mountain range that separated his country from its neighbor. Or at least it was the border for now. The Caliph had plans to add to Creight’s territory in the coming year – and to double it again a year later.

He would have two new concubines to deflower in two days and a coastline for trade goods in two years. He decided his first order of business was to bring slaves to this mountain range and widen the pass enough for a chair to fit. But for now he began his long walk through the passage. The 150 soldiers were his hand-selected Imperial Squadron, known and feared throughout the region for their fierceness and their unorthodox battle tactics. Lord Wellington had barraged him with messengers for the previous six months, claiming Azkoval’s new king was marching upon his holding with a horde of soldiers bent on laying waste to plans that had spanned almost two decades.

Creight was a landlocked country and paid exorbitant fees to have its goods transported through lands that bordered a sea. The easiest route, notwithstanding the torturous pass through the Alderbrecht Mountains, was through Azkoval. A trade agreement negotiated almost 200 years before had ended 25 years earlier. The agreement favored Creight and they liked it just fine until Az King Welton insisted that any renewed treaty would be more equitable.

The Creightons had threatened a war and Welton had called their bluff and ended negotiations. Then he refused to all overtures to restart talks, telling the Creightons to find another way to get the items they could not make or grow through.

The 34^th Caliph had managed to conquer a smaller neighbor, Deseret, and to insert a puppet government. That gave Creight access to a single navigable waterway, a river that ran to Creight’s capital after a four-day overland transport from Deseret’s lone port. That arrangement had ended three years before when the Deseret government was toppled by a mercenary force hired by Deseret’s deposed heir to the throne. It was costlier to keep and maintain an army presence in Deseret at any rate. It certainly wasn’t as profitable as the treaty with Azkoval had been.

Thus began part two of the plan.

The Creighton Caliph had helped to orchestrate a coup in Azkoval but hadn’t lived long enough to follow up on the next portion of his goal. The man inserted to head the country was supposed to be overrun within a year or two. It took time to pull together a large enough force to march for eight straight months through hostile territory. Instead the Caliph took ill and died, setting off a scramble to fill the power vacancy.

The man’s male children had fought and battled for more than three years, each with an army of supporters behind him, until Umar had emerged victorious just as Deseret fell to the mercenary band. Two years later, the supposed son of the rightful king deposed Azkoval’s usurper.

Now enemies surrounded Creight on all sides and that wouldn’t do. Lord Wellington was far removed from the capital and he had proven helpful to the 34^th Caliph’s plans. Umar initially approached the man to discuss trading a few incidental items available in Azkoval but not in Creight. It turned out that Wellington was too far removed from the shipping lanes – and too poor – to provide much of anything of worth.

The only thing that interested the Caliph was the man’s twin daughters, who were just beginning to bloom into womanhood at the time. Having two children born at the same time survive was rare enough but to see two identical young women was almost unheard of. The Caliph had made an offer to purchase the girls at once, only to be rebuffed.

A year later, he returned with more wealth and was turned away again – with a caveat. Lord Wellington knew that Creight had lent aid to the usurper. He wanted to take control of Azkoval and install his own son as his heir. The Caliph could have the twin daughters if he agreed to assist Lord Wellington in his plans.

The plans had been simple enough to revive. Everyone in Azkoval knew Wellington had aided the usurper king and it was only a matter of time before King Joseph made his way southward to confront the errant landholder. Umar decided that 200 soldiers would be enough to rout the king’s army, kill its commander and head to Tyrell. At first, all Creight would receive was the land to the large river that bisected Azkoval. It would be easy enough to get trade goods up the river and across the mountains. He had a thousand slaves to do the difficult work.

Unknown to Lord Wellington was the fact that the man’s reign would be short – and the man’s son would never live to sit on the throne. After establishing a base, the Creighton army would march on Tyrell and Umar would hold power in both countries.

Umar smiled as he walked up the path to the place that separated his country from the country he would soon control. The smile faded when the captain of his guard put a sword to his throat at the narrowest point of the pass.

“This is as far as you go,” he said. The Caliph blocked the men behind him from coming forward so half of his force was out of action. The clatter of swords behind him caused him to turn. What he saw amazed him. More than half of the men behind him had turned on the remainder of his corps. His handpicked men died before pulling a weapon. It was the last sight to reach his brain. The guard captain, once pulled from a deep ravine by Johan the Merciless and his band of mercenaries, bashed the Caliph on the head with a heavy rock and the man fell. The 30 men who led the column through the opening quickly piled other rocks on top of the fallen man.

Once the loyal guards were dispatched, the rest of the group added to the pile that crushed the life from their country’s leader.

“That was well done,” came a voice from above their heads. The men looked up, startled at the interruption.

“I am Rordan,” the man yelled. “I served with King Joseph in Deseret. I will lead you to him when you finish here.”

The guard captain nodded his agreement and his men continued to compile the 35^th Caliph’s tomb. The man’s head was visible and they watched him turn blue as the air was forced from his lungs. Soon enough, the blue gave way to white and they knew he was dead. The 36^th Caliph would come from their ranks – the guard captain was a grandson to the 34^th Caliph. Soon Creight would be back to being allies with the nations that surrounded it.

The self-imposed isolation would come to an end and the entire country would profit.

The messenger found Genrico sitting with a woman in a cold camp. The scene was so similar to the one he’d seen earlier in the day that he did a double-take before delivering the message the king had given him.

“Julia Wellington will join you before midday,” the man told them. “She has orders from the king.”

“Interesting,” Genrico said. “The distance between our armies has made communications a bit difficult and I only have a vague idea of the plan. Perhaps your sister can shed some light on things. If you’ll give me a description, I will make certain the sentries do not accost her.”

Victoria laughed.

“I should go with you,” she said. “My sister looks like me.”

“I was certain there was a resemblance but I think the sentries will need more than that,” Genrico replied, unsure of why the woman was smiling.

“I mean she looks exactly like me,” Victoria told him. “We are what are known as identical twins. There are no differences between us. Well, that’s not true. I wear this on my left arm. She has hers on the right.”

She lifted her arm to show a thin iron band around her wrist.

“Father got tired of never knowing who we were so he made us wear these,” she explained. “The first ones tied and we often switched them so he had these soldered on our arms. They will have to be cut when we leave here.”

Genrico frowned and shook his head. The ornament too closely resembled the bands that the slaves of the lower regions wore around their necks.

“The worst part is that he still doesn’t know who he’s talking to,” Victoria continued. “To him, we’re interchangeable. The thing is, we’re different people. If he took the time to know us he’d understand that.”

Genrico nodded his agreement.

“We met a priestess in Corinithia once,” he told his visitor. “She said twins that look the same are the mark of a demon. She called them pure evil.”

“You don’t really believe that!” Victoria huffed. Genrico laughed at her disgust.

“Joseph doesn’t believe in good or evil,” he said.

“That doesn’t make sense,” she replied. “Of course there is good and evil.”

“He doesn’t think so,” Genrico said. “He said the concept implies a lack of free will, that the person has no choice in his actions. He said he’s never met anyone who didn’t know the difference between what is right and what is wrong. He said that there are nice people and bad people but good and evil do not exist. The bad people just choose to do bad things.”

Victoria considered the premise and found she agreed. She had considered her father to be an evil person but now that she thought for a moment she understood that he was just a bad person.

“Joseph sounds like a very intelligent man,” she said.

“In some ways, he is,” Genrico answered with a sigh. “His education ended when he was a child. Given more years to learn, I believe he could be brilliant. He has a depth to this thinking that few I’ve met possess. The best part is that he has taught me to think the same way. I tend to view things in layers now. I see the surface but I also look for what is beneath the surface. But we both are sorely lacking in many skills that intelligent men possess.”

Victoria’s lack of understanding was evident in her expression.

“He and I can barely read and write,” Genrico clarified. “Neither of us can spell very well. We tend to write things as they sound regardless of how they are meant to be spelled. We both speak languages other than our own. I speak Denayian, Az and the Common Trade Language. He speaks Az, of course, but also Denayian. He believes he speaks the Trade Language but he doesn’t; at least not very well. None of us have the heart to tell him, though.”

Victoria nodded. She, too, had experience of attempting to correct someone more powerful than she was. It was a painful lesson.

“We don’t fear retribution,” Genrico said, correctly reading her expression again. “It’s that he has worked so hard to learn it. The fact is, he’s adequate but hardly fluent. The problem is with the Azkoval tongue. Trade Common has so many sounds that are foreign to you that it is difficult to speak it correctly without years of practice. He can understand what is being said and is understandable if someone listens closely. When he was Johan, it didn’t matter. Those we dealt with would listen carefully in order to ensure they gave no offense. I suppose it is the same now that he is the king. That’s probably for the best.

“Still, we are deficient in many areas. We can count, of course, but we can’t do sums. We have travelled over most of this portion of the world but if you showed us a map we couldn’t identify the countries by name – except in relationship to places we know intimately. We can pick out Denaya and Azkoval and we know the countries around them. But if you handed us a map of Deseret we probably wouldn’t know what country you were showing us. It’s interesting. My education didn’t begin until Joseph’s ended. Reading and writing are not important on a fishing boat so I was never taught. Joseph’s father – I mean the priest that I knew as his father – taught me to read so Joseph could have someone his age to study with. Still, the materials weren’t readily available. We had to do the best we could.”

“You speak as well as any nobleman I’ve ever met,” Victoria offered. “If you are deficient in any area, it is not evident from talking with you.”

“We’ve learned,” Genrico replied with a shrug. “The priest always told us it was important to speak clearly and to use proper words. It took some doing for me to correct my language but Joseph is a patient man. He is also very plainspoken.”

“Which is good if he’s dealing with my sister,” Victoria said with a smile. “I’ve told you that we are different people. That’s probably the most telling aspect. Julia can be irreverent. She does not hesitate to speak her mind and she can be impetuous. I tend to consider my words and actions more carefully. She is quicker to anger and she tends to forget her manners when she is mad.”

Genrico tilted his head back and laughed.

“You find that amusing?” Victoria asked.

“Oh, I was just picturing the scene at the other camp,” Genrico told her. “I said Joseph is a patient man. That is true. He is also a man who tolerates little foolishness. I was wondering if he has taken your sister as a confidant or if he has tied her to a tree so he can watch the crows pluck out her eyes.”

“He would do that?” Victoria asked, aghast at the possibility.

“No, no,” Genrico insisted. “If she has irritated him, he will chastise her. If she does it again, he is very likely to find someone else who has bothered him and make it that person’s duty to ensure she never comes near him again. That removes two thorns from his side in one fell swoop. Rest assured, unless your sister has attacked him or his troops, she is fine. You need not worry about her safety so long as Joseph is around.”

Julia was receiving her final instructions in preparation for a reunion with her sister when she stiffened. She watched, aghast, as a column of men walked through the camp. The leader, a face she had seen often, saw King Joseph and turned in his direction.

Julia, significantly smaller than the king, grabbed him roughly by the arm and propelled him past her.

“Run,” she ordered in a hiss.

Joseph had been caught unaware by her sudden movement and gathered his balance only by putting his hand on the ground for support.

“What are you doing?” he asked as he stood to his full height.

“You’ve been betrayed!” Julia said. She estimated the enemy’s strength at about 50 men. “A squad of the Caliph’s men has broken your ranks without a battle. I will hold them off while you escape toward the other portion of your army.”

Joseph looked over the head of his companion just as an even larger man came forward.

“The size of your guard is diminished but I see they are no less fierce,” the man said in Trade Common.

Joseph glanced down and saw only Julia’s back as she stood in front of him as though to protect him. He felt a surge of affection for the young woman.

“I have been blessed to command such people as this,” Joseph replied – or at least he thought that is what he said. It came out differently.

“Does Mistress Wellington plan to slay us all with only her dagger?” the man.

Joseph glanced around Julia’s body and saw she had her stiletto held in front of her.

“You can put the weapon away,” Joseph told her. “You can’t fight them all.”

“Not all,” Julia told him. “Just him.”

She gestured to the man in front. Indeed, Joseph realized that she could easily kill the man before he drew his sword. He was impressed – as was the man she pointed to.

“I will stab him in the gut and then cut my own throat,” she continued. “You might be too stupid to know what comes when these men capture you but I will never serve as the Caliph’s toy.”

Joseph repeated her words to the leader of the Creighton troops. Julia spun on her heels and glared at him.

“What did you just say?” she asked angrily.

“I just relayed your words to him,” Joseph told her. He was surprised when the man across from him laughed.

“He tends to speak rather formally and sometimes confuses pronouns,” the man told Julia in Az before looking back at Joseph. “You just told me that she would take my dagger down her throat. I am positive that is not what she meant to convey.”

“It most certainly is not!” Julia hissed. Joseph was playing his translation over in his head. He was certain he used all the correct words but it was apparent that he didn’t.

“Mistress Wellington, I mean no harm to either you or your king,” the man told her. “I am Osid ben Surkta, grandson of Khala al-Massad, 34th Caliph of Creight. I wish to report that I am the last living member of my family. It seems our illustrious Caliph was killed in a rock slide earlier today. What a pity.”

“So it worked as you planned, Osid?” Joseph asked when he recovered his verbal equilibrium. He had no idea that the man spoke Az, but he did – far better than Joseph spoke Trade Common, it seemed.

“It worked exactly as I planned,” Osid related. “I led the group through the narrow pass. When Umar could go neither forward nor backward, I bashed his skull in with a rock. Those loyal to me dispatched the remainder of Umar’s forces. We piled a large number of rocks on the body. I will take the troops stationed not far from here back to see him and then assert my claim for his title. Will that fit your plans?”

“It will be fine,” Joseph agreed with a nod. “Julia and her sister are going back to the manor house in the morning to alert her father that we are a day out. She believes he will shift his troops farther from his dwelling to give him time for escape if they are overrun.”

“I believe she has the full measure of the man,” Osid replied with a nod. “I will wait a day before removing the Creighton soldiers. That will give him a false sense of security which can only aid your goal.”

“I would appreciate that, Osid,” Joseph told him. “For now, feel free to set up camp where you see fit. Umar’s men are through those thick trees. Genrico has men in the woods to make sure no messengers get through. I suspect we will be able to take the manor house tomorrow without unnecessary bloodshed. Thank you for that.”

“Oh, it was my pleasure,” Osid replied before turning to Julia. “Mistress Wellington, I will be named the next Caliph of Creight.”

“Neither my sister nor I will be your slaves, regardless of what my father has promised!” Julia interrupted.

“Of course not,” Osid told her in a gentle voice. “One of my first goals is to eliminate slavery in my country. No man or woman will be forced to my bedchamber or to do my bidding. You have my word on that.”

“Regardless, you’ll go back to Creight without your trophies,” Julia insisted.

“I have no intention of trying to compel you to do anything,” Osid assured her. “If I had some way to provide for the slaves currently in Creight, I would release them the moment I am crowned. Sadly, I have not come up with a way to feed them or house them or clothe them. Their current owners will not part with them willingly so I will have to fight a civil war almost immediately if I attempt that. I just wanted you to know that the Wellington lands will have nothing to fear from the Creightons.”

“Because the Wellington lands will be no more,” Julia said. She had seen Osid many times in her young life. He had accompanied the Caliph to Wellington Manor each time the Creighton leader had visited.