Heir of Iron

Chapter 27: Navran

(The image above is from https://archithoughts.wordpress.com/2010/11/23/growing-cities/).

A motley crew set out from the old palace of Thudra, dressed in three colors, with no unity of style. The mismatched, haphazard style of the march was oddly comforting to Navran. He himself was a misfit, unqualified and unwilling for his role. Yet he marched to be acclaimed Heir of Manjur, and they marched with him.

The first company was Sadja's militia from Davrakhanda, the best-trained and most neatly dressed, in green with the sea-eagle crest on their shoulders. The second company were the Uluriya volunteers which Veshta had recruited for Navran's guard, clad in bleached white cloth, but with no other consistency of uniform. The last were in the clothes of the militia of Virnas, the remnants of Thudra's garrison who had surrendered and pledged fealty to Navran.

Navran-dar. Now that was a name he had never expected to answer to.

They began at Thudra's palace, which had become a barracks for Sadja's troops and the Uluriya guard. The route of the procession from the palace of Virnas to Veshta's estate was lined with people, both Uluriya and others, and cheers sounded as they passed.

Sadja marched next to Navran looking thoughtful. "Not as few as I feared, but not as many as I hoped," he said.

"No trouble in the city," Navran said. "Good enough."

"Enough to hold out," Sadja said. "Beyond that...."

There had been skirmishes with Thudra's and Ruyam's troops along the walls every day, but they had ended with a handful of arrows fired. No one had assaulted the city's gates. If the desultory siege so far was all that Thudra and Ruyam would do, then Virnas might indeed outlast the besiegers.

Navran laughed bitterly into his beard. Ruyam would not let him escape so easily, and eventually their own supplies would run out.

But Sadja had said repeatedly in the past days, "Kill the cobra in front of you, and leave the one on the road."

And so he had. In the past five days, he and Mandhi had undergone a series of specialized ablutions, first to atone for the debt of purity they had accrued from so many days sleeping in impure environments, and then, for Navran, to prepare him for his acclamation as Heir. He regarded these onerous rituals with a measure of alarm, but said no word as the eldest saghada of the city bathed him, then doused him with myrrh, then repeated an hour of prayers, then bathed him again, then bound silver coins to his wrists, then wrapped him in new white cloth, then undressed him and told him to repeat the whole process again the next day.

That was not the first time he had wished that someone else would be Heir, but it was the first time that he felt like Mandhi sympathized with him.

Sadja opened his mouth to say something, then stopped. He pointed off to the south. "Something is happening."

Navran followed Sadja's finger with his gaze. Several people were running towards the route of their march. Further away on the same road approached a chaotic mass of people, advancing with deliberate slowness, but churning and choking the road as they approached.

Sadja spun and snapped at the captain of his forces, walking a few paces behind them. "Bhargasa, find out what is going on."

Bhargasa nodded and broke from the rank, running to meet the forefront of the march. Sadja and Navran did not break pace, and so for a few moments Bhargasa was lost to their view as he disappeared down the street towards the disturbance. But a short time later he returned, running to catch up with them. Sadja stopped to allow his captain to speak.

"My lord and king," Bhargasa said, "dire news. There is a riot is the East Quarter. The rioters approach from the south."

"What do they want?" Sadja said.