Alarik's Crusade

CHAPTER 4: THE HASHADI

Cendric had not stopped speaking since they left the camp and made their way across the grasslands to the treeline the next morning, his incessant prattling only more aggravating under the harshness of the beating sun. Worse yet was he had so much to discuss. This was his wheelhouse; he knew the land, the people, and the history, and if there was one thing Cendric enjoyed doing, it was speaking.

“They’re called the Hashadi,” he said cheerily to the group. “I’ve never so much as spoken a word to one, but I know a lot about them. They’re castoffs from the Rukara to the north. Every time the Vanderik merchants would travel there, they’d end up staying for a few days - and more specifically, a few nights,” he said, raising his eyebrows, even though no one was looking at him directly. “They’d inevitably leave a few women with half-breed infants, and those would grow up to only be half-Rukara, leading to only being half-respected. Eventually, a Rukara king - I don’t know which one - kicked them all out to live in the rainforest where they reside to this day. Somehow, they’ve managed to survive there.” He looked at Inaya, hoping she was listening. Instead, she seemed far more concerned with the straps on the back of her Vanderik tunic.

“That’s fascinating, Cendric,” Edda said with a smile that, while unintentional, came across as condescending. “Hopefully we can find some use for your knowledge of the people as we travel across the land.” She thought for a moment, hoping what she was about to ask wasn’t a foolish question. “How did the merchants manage to make it to Rukara?”

“Do, my lady. And not a silly question at all. They do so through Osvuldur ships.” A moment later he realised she wasn’t aware of what that meant either. “Sea-faring people to the east of here that live off the river. They carry us and our goods up north, and ferry us back to Theolar.” To her credit, Edda was absorbing every word, mentally making notes of each of the neighbouring people, their origins, their histories. She learned some of these names from the scholars back in Vanda, but being so near the lands was a means to experience it in a vastly different light.

“I’ve seen those ships,” Inaya added. Inwardly, Cendric scolded himself for being as foolishly excited as he was at discovering she was indeed listening. “They’d come back brimming with goods. So much so they wouldn’t notice when a small amount of their stock would mysteriously go missing.” Shalmanesser laughed with his companion from Khorsul.

“Tell me you don’t mean you stole from the empire,” Alarik said, rubbing his eyes, clear exasperation in his voice.

“I most certainly did. But now that I’m on this crusade with you, it’s far too late to report me or send me back. We both know you wouldn’t want your superiors to know you’re cohorting with a thief.” Inaya ended with a smirk. Shalmanesser laughed even harder this time. Cendric just shook his head. He’d never met anyone like her. “In fact,” she said, nodding towards Cendric, “most of the ones I stole from looked an awful lot like you. Rich men with a cloud of self-importance around them so thick they could hardly see me.”

“Oh, I believe he sees you just fine,” Alarik mumbled. Fortunately they were climbing a particularly steep hill when the comment was made, allowing Cendric an alternative reason for the reddening of his cheeks.

Farmund was the first to reach the top. “Hold on,” he said, instinctively moving in front of Edda who ascended with him, who lightly brushed his arm aside to stand in line with the giant, side by side if not shoulder to shoulder. “Up ahead. Surely that’s the rainforest...”

“Well,” Alarik said in between heavy breaths, “I would assume. That is where we’re heading to, after all.”

“It’s more than that,” Farmund added. “It’s strange. Unnatural.”

The whole party had reached the peak now, and immediately they recognized what Farmund spoke of. The edge of the rainforest came right to the edge of the grasslands in a way that was far too perfect to be a natural separation. Canopied treetops gave way almost immediately to thick grasses, all the way across a long stretch that led in a line so straight it looked to be made by a human hand. The path along that line seemed to stretch for ages. It was strange to them, seeing a transition so visible from light to dark, known to unknown, comfort to fear.

“That’s… that’s because…” Cendric stumbled over his knowledge of the area, searching for an explanation and coming up short. “Hmm. Really is odd, isn’t it?”

“A wonderful sentiment from a navigator,” Shalmanesser teased.

“There are three awaiting our arrival,” Farmund noted. He pointed towards a spot in the trees that looked like nothing beyond coloured blotches to the other six. “Brightly coloured. I assume they’re making no effort to blend in or ambush us. I believe they want us to find them.”

“Already, the brute has more to add than the navigator in terms of direction,” said Inaya. “Perhaps we should follow that one.” Farmund shot her a dirty look, by no means happy with the epithet, but he held his tongue.

Cendric just shook his head, smiling with stunned disbelief. His whole life he would lead, both in rough terrain and in conversation. How he had suddenly become the butt of every joke was a strange, disturbing turn. His good looks and talent had carried him so far, but where were they now? His old spells didn’t seem to work. Worse yet, the ‘brute’ was indeed correct. “He’s right. We should move to meet them. I should be able to speak with them. Their dialect should be not far from that of the Rukara.”

The seven tried their best to walk gracefully down the hill to the three in the distance, slowing to reduce the stumbling, awkward motion one makes when moving downhill. They hoped to at least look like part of confidence and control.

Cendric took the lead. The three were indeed waiting for them, looking far more regal and dignified than the party approaching them, even with a noble in tow. Farmund was right; each wore very bright, brilliant colours. At the forefront was a woman. Tall and striking, she had a commanding air about her. High cheekbones gave her a look of authority. Her flawless posture, only adding to her height, gave her the look of a queen, and her downward facing gaze made all in her presence look as if they were her subjects. A bright yellow robe contrasted with her dark hair that fell well past her shoulders, parted in the centre to show a face that demonstrated her mixed heritage. Her skin was light enough to almost pass for a Vanderik, closer to that of a Khorsuli, but not dark enough to be fully Rukara.

At her side was a man, much shorter and more timid. While not appearing underfed, he was certainly gaunt, and had a thin frame that lacked musculature. He wore the same bright yellow of the woman, but while hers was suited well to her, his clothing seemed almost draped upon his bony frame. His legs seemed to be only functional in part, and he supported himself with a staff. The pair were astoundingly different, and if it wasn’t for the possibly-regal woman at his side, they may have passed by him without a word.

Yet they wouldn’t have passed by the man standing behind them, at least not without a second look. While the robe he wore was of the same fabric and style as the other two, it was coloured a deep crimson, rising all the way up to just below his eyes. His brown hair was parted neatly, statesmanlike, making him a confounding sight as his form was clearly that of a warrior. He stood, muscular arms behind his back, legs even with his wide shoulders. There was something about the man that spoke of a quiet, brooding menace. If that wasn’t enough, his most striking feature nearly made Cendric fall back a step startled. His eyes were a pale, milky white - the eyes of the blind. A covering over his mouth and nose only accentuated them further. Still, he managed to stare into Cendric’s very soul in a way that was deeply, deeply troubling, and not at all helping the first impression Cendric intended to make.

​Perhaps it was the blind man’s gaze, or the imposing woman, or the strangely decrepit man with them, but once again Cendric was at an uncharacteristic loss for words. His mouth felt dry and all eyes seemed suddenly upon him. “He-, uh…” He cleared his throat. “Hello.” He realised he spoke the words in Vanderik, an embarrassing oversight considering he was serving as their translator, in addition to allowing his companions to hear his stunningly inappropriate greeting considering the circumstances. The three in front of him didn’t so much as move a muscle. The crowd behind him did their best to withhold their snickering, hoping not to make a fool of themselves as well.

​He shook his head, breathed deeply for a moment, and remembered who he was; Cendric, navigator, suave explorer and fearless merchant trader. At least for a time. He tried again, correcting to the Rukara’s language. “We are-”

​“You may speak your language,” the tall woman said in Vanderik, her voice smooth, deep for a lady’s, sounding almost bored before the conversation even began. “The Rukara taught us their tongue as well as your own before betraying our people. My name is Jathi. You are allowed to attempt a pass through our rainforest.”

​Cendric nodded, noting she didn’t say they were welcome. In spite of no longer needing a translator, he continued the lead. In his peripherals he noticed Hilda point towards Jathi and motioned for Alarik to speak, but he ignored her. “Greetings, Jathi. Thank you for your hospitality.”

​“I promised you no such thing,” she said, her silk-smooth voice much louder than his.

​“Very well. May I ask your title? Are you the queen of this land?”

​The small man at her side laughed. He shook when he did so, looking as if he could fall over by that one simple action. Jathi answered for him. “No. I am not the queen, nor is he the king. Regal leaders made our people outcasts. We have no reason for royalty. Each man, woman and child you encounter in Hashai is their own - although I doubt you will meet one beyond the three you see before you. I have been chosen to meet you not out of superiority over my people, but by their asking of me. After you are gone, I will return as I was before - not superior nor inferior to any one other.”

​Edda shied behind Farmund. A pang of regret, but similar to one who has jumped in a lake that was colder than anticipated.

​Cendric gave a perfunctory reading of his name and the others with him. Jathi seemed hardly interested anyway. When he was done, he inquired about the other two.

​“I am Adilash,” said the half-broken man. He smiled, radiating a refreshing, genuine warmth. “I welcome you to Hashai.”

​“May I ask your role in coming here?” Cendric asked.

​“Only as support. We, as a people, asked Jathi to meet you. I am attending simply as her husband.”

​The party of seven took a collective, quick breath in. For the purposes of tact, each member kept internal their questions and thoughts on how the stunning, composed Jathi had found her mate in him. Save, of course, for Shalmanesser, smirking at the back and finding no interest in diplomacy or decorum for a civilization that wasn’t his. “Are you quite serious?” he asked.

​“Oh, but I am!” Adilash laughed. He noticed Alarik gave Shalmanesser a cold look. “No, please, don’t worry - I am very well aware of my appearance, and I assure you, just as aware of Jathi’s.” He had to crane his neck slightly to meet her eye to eye. “I’ve been called a lucky man many times, but I believe we’re lucky to have each other.” For the first time, Jathi gave a smile, albeit a small one, to her husband. “But please - I must also introduce you to my acquaintance!” He pointed his walking stick towards the disheartening man standing behind the two leaders. A man who hadn’t moved an inch since their arrival. “My friend here is Majad. He’ll be accompanying you on your journey as you pass through,” he said with heavy emphasis, “our lands.”

​“Please,” Cendric said, feeling the temperature of his body drop just feeling Majad’s gaze upon him, “I thank you for the kindness but I believe we should well be capable of finding our way without an escort.”

​Adilash laughed again, a cheery, friendly sound. “Oh, you silly man! You clearly do not know the rainforest!”

​Jathi spoke up. “Surely you do not believe we’d let you pass through our home without having eyes on you,” she said, somehow laughing without smiling. “You could not even make it to our border without our knowing. Have you not questioned why we were here, awaiting your arrival?”

​“We have…” Alarik admitted.

​She pointed to her face. “Eyes. Everywhere. From the treetops, through the branches, in the dirt, at day, at dusk, at dark, we watch. You don’t need to know us, but I assure you, if you are passing through our home, we will know you.”

​Cendric looked around, scanning the rainforest, and seeing if he could find any of these would-be watchers, and quietly wishing that Majad was among them instead of in such close proximity. Even when he wasn’t turned Majad’s way, there was a palpable feeling of dread and discomfort. The icy ‘queen’ made him feel more at home than that man.

​“We hope we haven’t made you worry,” Adilash said. “We simply wish to keep an eye on our guests.” He took a brief glance at Inaya and Shalmanesser, not struggling to recognize they were notably different from the rest of the crusaders. “Interesting,” he muttered, half to the newcomers, half to his own. “Looks like we have more than just Vanderik in our midst. Anyway, anyway… as I was saying. Surely if you let a stranger into your home, you wouldn’t let them wander alone, hmm? Now. We must be on our way. Welcome to Hashai!” He turned to walk, but left one, final ominous comment hanging in the air. “We’ll be seeing you.”

​With that, the two leaders retreated back into the rainforest, passing into the relative dark of the shaded canopy. Adilash moved surprisingly limberly, leveraging his cane to traverse fallen trees. Jathi still moved with grace and poise, a difficult thing while cutting through the deep brush of the wilderness. That left only Majad, staring at all of them and nothing at all, just behind the treeline.

​Shalmanesser pulled Inaya aside while the rest of the group gathered their thoughts, checked their equipment, and milled about for a moment until the crusade began in full. Inaya recognized his expression and knew what he was to say before he said it. She’d seen that look on his face before; a strained one that wanted to look casual and non-chalant, but inwardly was troubled.

​“I think we might need to ask ourselves if this adventure is worth the risk,” he said. “What are we here for? Pilfer some money from Vanderik coffers? We have enough to survive, we don’t need to press this further. The moment it gets dark we should slip out of here forever and head back to Theolar. You hear that nonsense? With the eyes?”

​With Shal, Inaya was far more willing to show patience than anyone else. He kept her grounded, not letting her hatred get the better of her. However, she was certain they were on the right path. “They’re just posturing. They won’t want to kill us. If all the crusaders die, that’s an act of aggression. They’ll send their full army into this rainforest. All the Vanderik want is to test if a pass is possible. It’s an easy task for us, just some simple hunting. We’ll get paid plenty, and they’ll discover that a path through a rainforest with inhabitants that will not be particularly welcoming will not yield results. We gain, they lose for the wasted effort. Stay with it.”

​“I hope you’re right. And if you are, I’m sitting on that bit of wealth for the rest of my life. Just sitting. That’s all I want. Sit for eternity.”

​Inaya smiled and grabbed him by the shoulder. “I know. Never one for pressure.”