Dunes of Gor Chapter Thirty Nine

Chapter Thirty Nine: The Gates of Al-Quada-a-Dhum

“I’ve brought you some black wine, Master. I thought you could use it.” Ghadir offered the cup of the steaming black liquid to Daan Shahzad. Black wine, made from Thentian beans, resembled Earth coffee in many ways.

“Thank you, Ghadir, I appreciate it.” Daan took the goblet as he gazed over the high walls of Al-Quada-a-Dhum. Below, beyond the range of any short bows, the army of the Landsraad was setting up camp. They were now effectively an advance force, since news had broken that a Sardaukar army was marching from Tor to support them. Four legions strong, with each legion numbering five hundred men, plus one hundred auxiliaries. Two legions remained to guard the Emir and the walls of Tor. The siege of Al-Quada-a-Dhum would begin now, but the assault on its walls would be delayed until the Sardaukar arrived. Which they would, very soon. The Sardaukar marched liked demons on their kaiila, barely resting when lesser men would be forced to. 

“You have served me well, these last few days, Ghadir,” said Daan. “It has been noted. You have barely slept.”

“As have you, Master,” said Ghadir. He joined his master at the wall and gazed down at the vast array of tents. “They have had to abandon most of their non-essential supplies during the march. The Kavars followed my strategy and began to shoot from kaiila back at the pack kaiilas in the column. Many were killed and the supplies they carried left in the sand. They have prioritised water and food in that order.”

Daan smiled. “And the last week of their march?”

“In haste, Master. They grew sick of losing kaiila to the constant attacks. They marched quickly towards the end, barely resting, and for the most part relying on their skirmish screens to intercept the raiders. The Kavars report that towards the end they no longer stood to fight, but tolerated the raids that swept in throughout the day, because they no longer wished to proceed so slowly. That is when the Kavars were able to shoot many of the pack kaiila. Their slowness of pace earlier, when they had stopped to fight twice a day, meant they had lost a lot of time, and drank more of their water than they had intended to. They secured fresh water at the oasis of Tadar, but even so, they grew concerned that rationing might be needed once they were back in the desert.”

“And now they are here. Now they squat before my high walls,” said Daan as he looked down at them. “Now they think they will bring down the tarn from his roost.”

“And they are tired,” said Ghadir, motioning towards the camp. “They will be happy to rest up before any action is taken against us.”

“Hmm. I’m sure they would like to rest. I’m sure they would like me to sit behind my walls for several days and do nothing while the Sardaukar march to join them. What a shame then that I will be going on the offensive. I will not give them time to rest up. They are at their most vulnerable now, before they can make camp properly, before they can rest, and before the Sardaukar arrive.”

“Yes, Master. It is as I said.”

“Did you enjoy the slave I sent to your quarters last night?” asked Daan.

“It was a very welcome gift, Master. I took much pleasure from her.”

“Good. You deserved her. Expect more of those gifts in the future, Ghadir. I will not forget the hard work and planning you gave me these past weeks. Now that I have lost Reyhan…” Daan gripped the battlements, his soul in anguish at the loss of his woman. “She should have been here with me today, standing by my side, lending her strength to mine. We have been through everything together. Everything. I have never known a woman like her. Even if I win today, life will no longer hold any pleasure for me. You do not truly know what you have until you lose it, Ghadir.”

“I lost my freedom, Master,” pointed out the slave. “Many years ago, through no fault of my own.”

“True. Very true. Then we have both lost things dear to us.” Daan gazed at the slave. “But circumstances may change for you, after this.” He clasped Ghadir on the shoulder. “If I win today, I will be magnanimous in victory to those who supported me. I will not forget you, Ghadir. Perhaps your time of enslaved service draws to a close. Perhaps.”

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There was a sense of breathless excitement now in the Landsraad camp; excitement tinged with relief that the long and arduous journey across the Hamada desert was finally over. The walls of Al-Quada-a-Dhum loomed close by as the male slaves were directed under the lashes of their overseers to set up camp, while kaiila mounted warriors formed a perimeter screen to guard the area as men dismounted and moved to set up their stables and bedding for the night. Beautifully tanned kajirae ran around performing smaller, lighter tasks, while their male counterparts began hammering timber palisades into the baked stony ground as part of the perimeter defences. Laleh Sasani gazed with some satisfaction at the sight of the women’s tents and pavilions being erected in the centre of what would be the main camp site. She had insisted that these silken pavilions not be abandoned during the forced march towards the end, when pack kaiila began to be shot by Bedouin raiders, and desperate decisions had to be made as to what to keep and what to lose on the trail. Some supplies had been jettisoned in favour of the Ladies’ comfort, which was of course paramount. 

“We can’t be expected to sleep outdoors,” Laleh had reasonably pointed out. “We would be vulnerable in the dark to men from our own side, let alone roving bands of the enemy. Our silken pavilions must be conveyed to the gates of Al-Quada-a-Dhum at all costs!”

Everyone was tired now and looked forward to a few days when they could rest and recuperate. The only blessing from the forced march was the fact that the Kavar raiders were also weary. They too had travelled quickly, matching the expedition’s speed of march, and the constant raiding had taken its toll on their mounts and men just as much as the Landsraad forces. They too would require rest and sleep before they could fight at their best. But what the Kavars didn’t know, Laleh presumed, was that in just a few days a relief force of four mighty legions of Sardaukar would arrive to swell the ranks of the Landsraad. Already the Landsraad outnumbered the Kavars three to one, but soon they would be unstoppable with the Emir’s legions at their side. Little did the Kavars know that their precious days of rest would seal their doom in the long term! 

The column had operated skirmish screens on all sides of their advance, and as soon as the serpent like column had neared the walls of Al-Quada-a-Dhum, outriders had been sent in all directions to scout for any more Kavar raiders lurking nearby. They all reported back safely that the Kavar force had not split itself, and that all the enemy riders continued to operate as a single force. This made sense as they were so heavily outnumbered, almost three to one. Smaller Kavar forces would not have the weight of numbers to effectively penetrate the skirmish screens quickly enough to operate as a shock force. They needed to be able to overcome any point in the skirmish screens that they chose to concentrate on.

“The first thing I shall do, once the fortress falls, is enjoy a good long bath,” said Laleh Sasani as she sat in the shade of an umbrella screen. A collared kajira served her a cool drink, or as cool as any of the liquids here might be. Tepid, was actually closer to the temperature, but in contrast to the heat of some of the water barrels, that seemed cool indeed. 

“Before or after you have the women of Al-Quada-a-Dhum paraded before you, naked and in chains?” enquired Lady Meriame.

“Oh, that’s a good point! Maybe I could combine the two and have them paraded before me, snivelling, and sorrowful, while I enjoy a luxurious bath?”

“I don’t see why not. In victory we require some degree of pleasure, after all.”

The women had been told that the fortress Keep would be home to a hundred and fifty banner men that Daan Shahzad could count on as fiercely loyal, as they were his original banner men before he left Tor. With them were a further one hundred and fifty men, less loyal, as they had only recently been recruited. In all likelihood these additional men would be reluctant to fight when faced with the prospect of almost certain defeat, and would take any offer of reasonable surrender that was made to them. And of Daan’s men, there would already be an unknown number of casualties taken when the force of Sardaukar had been ambushed and slain during that night of the long knives. The Sardaukar would have taken some of Daan’s banner men with them before they laid down their own lives.

“Oh, Reyhan, what have you done?” sighed Laleh to herself, as she imagined the terror and panic that must be sweeping the walls of the fortress about now. “I will perhaps keep you as a kajirae myself, and you shall bathe me and see to my wardrobe each morning, demure and respectful, answerable to my whip. You are my blood after all.” 

But within a few hours of establishing their position, it became apparent to the Landsraad that the Kavars intended at last to fight a formal battle. Their reduced force of eight hundred or so kaiila riders began to assemble in a line, three to four ranks deep, presenting themselves as a solid formation to the left of the Landsraad camp. At first there was a sense of disbelief that after several weeks of non-committal harassment, the Kavars were now prepared to fight a formal military engagement.

“It doesn’t make sense,” said Hashim Sasani as he gazed at the formation where it stood, boldly challenging the Landsraad army, with its banners flying in a declaration of war. “Why now? Both our forces are tired, but we still outnumber them three to one. I don’t like this.”

“Does it matter why?” replied Laleh, “they have swooped at and stung us for weeks now. If they wish to stand and fight, then let us crush them.”

Hashim however was cautious. He took time to send out his scouts again, this time telling the men to ride ten pasangs in all directions, to ascertain whether a relief force was on its way – possibly more Kavars. When his scouts returned, they confirmed that no enemy riders could be seen within ten pasangs, save for the handfuls of Kavar scouts who chose to pace them in their search. 

“They shadow us like hawks,” said the scout. “They watch and report wherever we might go and whatever we might do.” 

“Let them,” said Hashim, sullenly. “I am only concerned that they may have split their forces, or that a relief force creeps up upon us while we are distracted.”

But unless they were phantoms, no such men existed.

But still Hashim remained cautious, and risked losing the opportunity to confront the Kavar formation. The Kavars began riding down the sand dunes to taunt the camp, firing off arrows at the skirmish screen deployed to secure that flank. Hashim’s men grew angry and restless and some of the commanders loyal to the other Landsraad families began to demand why something wasn't done to rid them of the Kavar force.

“They want a battle? Let's give them a battle.”

And so at last, three ahn before the sun was due to set, Hashim gave orders that two thousand of his best men would mount and form up to confront the eight hundred Kavars. Of his remaining force, he picketed two hundred facing the walls of Al-Quada-a-Dhum, where he could clearly see over a hundred men manning the great walls, staring down at the armed camp; and of the other six hundred, he sent them far out as skirmish screens in all the remaining directions with orders to ride at least three pasangs from the camp and watch for any enemy activity. And then he mounted his own war kaiila and rode to receive the blessings of his woman.

Laleh stood waiting for him with garlands in her hands. She hung these floral tributes from buckles and straps on his kaiila harness and she offered the blessings of the Priest Kings to her man, presenting him with his personal war helm with its rich cloth at the back and the raised and sharpened point at its crest. 

“Kill them and return to my loving arms,” Laleh cried.

And then, Hashim led his own lancers towards the Kavars, who now stood half a pasang away, formed up for battle. As Hashim approached, he still expected the Kavars to break and run into the desert at the last moment, but at least then they would be scattered for a while. Let the real hunt for these raiders begin when the four legions of Sardaukar came and reinforced his lines. Then they would first take the fortress city, and then at their leisure, scour the desert of these Kavars, denying them the use of fresh water wells in the region until they might be forced to give battle or lose their water sources. Men could only survive for a short time in the desert without fresh water. 

A raised wooden observation platform had been constructed during the afternoon complete with hand rails, and it was to this that the gentle ladies of the Landsraad gathered together, with an adequate number of briefly attired serving slaves to attend to their desires, as the Landsraad warriors climbed into their kaiila saddles to ride out and face the Kavar force.

“It will be exciting to view our men in action,” said Meriame as she signalled a kajira to pour her some wine. “Look, you can see the banners and pennants from here. How splendid they look!”

“It is a rare treat after those dreary weeks of being hounded day and night by the Kavar,” said Laleh in agreement. “So many noble House banners flying together in the same place!”

“Our lancers will strike like a mighty thunderbolt from the sky!” announced Lady Meriame, as she raised her own wine goblet. “And then, on to the walls of Al-Quada-a-Dhum, itself!”

“Soon we shall bathe together in the sunken baths, set within the most exquisite marble floors,” said Laleh. “And the Sasani women shall be there, collared and belled, pandering to our every whim.”

“How I shall enjoy putting them under the lash,” agreed Meriame. “What they did to your poor daughter! It doesn’t bear thinking about. It must be avenged!”

“Listen! Our men are sounding their attack trumpets!”

And so they were. The lancers of the Landsraad, although saddle sore and tired, moved to within the distance required for a fierce gallop. To their pleasure, the Kavars also began a slow advance with their much smaller force, formed out into two lines of march. Those men too were tired, but sensed that battle today would be fought. Trumpets sounded from both sides as lances began to lower in unison.

“The Landsraad of Tor of course are far superior in a heavy lance charge,” said Meriame. “See how they ride stirrup to stirrup. It is like an oncoming tidal wall, rushing in on the enemy – a wave that will tear through any opposition.”

Laleh paced to and fro, growing unusually excited. “There will be slaves after this! So many slaves to take back to Tor! My beloved has promised me first pick!”

“You are so lucky,” said Meriame, as she sipped her wine. “How the women of the Keep must be shivering in terror by now, knowing that their precious necks will soon be collared.”

And then there was a trumpet sound from the gates of Al-Quada-a-Dhum – a series of brass trumpets calling out as the gates themselves swung open. The women turned on their observation platform in surprise, for it seemed that Daan Shahzad was leaving the security of his high walls to ride forth with his small force of personal bannermen in support of the Kavars! What madness was this? The picket of two hundred cavalry, already facing the gates, straightened up, ready to meet the riders head on, but as the line of kaiilas watched, they saw unfamiliar banners riding out of the great gates, and far more than could be expected of Daan’s own house warriors. Within ten ehn a force of eight hundred or so unknown cavalry had formed up to face the surprised Landsraad picket. And with that number, then rode out Daan Shahzad and two hundred of his three hundred men. The picket force was outnumbered five to one. The main force was committed now, riding at a gallop towards the Kavars, and the remainder of the Landsraad force was patrolling a two pasang exclusion zone. Trumpets sounded again from the Shahzad body of kaiila as lances dipped down and charged the Landsraad picket. It held its ground, but was punctured in quick succession, men cut down by the impetus of a charge of fresh, strong troops who had drunk water and eaten well before emerging to fight. As the ladies looked on in shock from their high platform, they saw Daan’s thousand strong force bearing down on the Landsraad camp that was barely defended by maybe one hundred men in total, now that it had turned and trampled the two hundred men that Hashim had left facing the gates.

And out on the dunes on the left flank, the Kavar force now turned their mounts one hundred and eighty degrees before lance contact was made, and began riding back furiously, fleeing the incoming Landsraad lancers. The withdrawal was close to the bone, but the Kavars had lighter mounts and were accustomed to hit and run tactics of this nature and most of their men managed to retreat before the Landsraad lancers engaged and cut down the stragglers. 

In the main camp, the Shahzad force was now running wild, spearing men right, left and centre, slashing tents, hacking down male slaves, scattering the pack kaiila, but allowing the beautiful kajirae to run freely for now.

The commotion came to the attention of the Landsraad body of men, now a full half a pasang away, who had already tired themselves further with a fast march and charge. Now they gathered back into their ranks on their high position to see the chaos that had beset their camp. And now they rode back again, with the Kavars trailing gleefully behind. The Shahzad army had turned through the camp, ravaging it, and now formed up in a line formation to face the approaching Landsraad riders, but those harassed riders of Tor were struggling to maintain a coherent disciplined formation as the Kavars close behind were firing short bows into their rear ranks. Men in the rear ranks began to push through to the front, irrespective of line discipline, throwing the organised body of troops into confusion. Officers began to bark orders to form up, while the Shahzad lined up for their own charge. Daan was not going to give the men of the Landsraad time to re-organise, and so, while the Kavars wheeled up and down the rear line of the Landsraad, shooting arrows into the mass of kaiila riders, Daan signalled for all one thousand of his men to charge headlong at the Landsraad, who had now ridden down to the slope of the dunes. They outnumbered Daan two to one, but disorganised, and being shot at it in the rear, they remained fractured and broken when the lines collided with a crash. And then as battle was joined, the Kavars replaced their short bows with lances and charged into to what remained of the rear rank of the Landsraad.

The Landsraad women on the observation platform were numb with shock. One by one they saw the colourful Landsraad banners dipping and falling in the scrum of battle. One by one they saw the Landsraad units cut off from one another and encircled. 

“Would the gentle mistresses care for some more ka-la-na?” enquired one of the kneeling kajirae with a soft smile that possibly bordered on insolence now. “I think there are armed men approaching with chains and collars, so you may wish to drink quickly, beautiful mistresses…”