The torn cloak
The walls of Peshawar appeared at the sight of exhausted riders in a vision of gray and ocher stone. Perched on the steep and rugged rocks of the mountain at the border with the kingdom of Shindra, the mpregnable ramparts rose very high against a sky of steel.
Arslan straightened his back e sighed for the fatigue of the exhausting forced march he had imposed on his army.
As always, the sight of Kishward's mighty fortress brought back to him a multitude of memories. Some pleasant, many dramatic, but all linked to emotions so intense as to make him feel his heart go up in throat, even today, after so many years.
With his soul in turmoil, Arslan raised his eyes to the dizzying, massive forms of the ramparts, high up, where the elegant winged figure of Azrael drew wide circles against the clouds over the fortress. The young Sha savored the feeling of protection that only those walls could transmit to him. Nowhere else, even in his capital Ectabana, could he feel so safe as in Peshawar, despite the many danger situations that had taken place here.
Dangers against which his friends had always known how to defend him.
More instinctively than intentionally, the young Shah turned to the right, where he always had found the solid figure of Daryun by his side.
Always, but not this time.
Almost surprised, Arslan found himself staring at Lucian's face.
The marzban returned his gaze and the young Shah feared he had involuntarily assumed a disappointed expression, due Lucian made a strange face.
"Do you feel fine, majesty?" asked the elder general, perplexed.
"Yes, Lucian. I'm fine, thank you" Arslan replied, quickly turning away from his face to look towards Narsus, who was riding tired and thoughtful on his left.
"It seems that the earthquake has caused a lot of damage" observed at that moment the strategist and raised a hand to indicate the walls, where some collapses were evident.
"It is not the first earthquake that the fortress of Peshawar has to endure" answered Lucian in a sure tone
"I had never see one so violent. And you?" Arslan asked. Worried he looked at the fortress.
Lucian opened his mouth to reply, but then fell silent.
"Me not," said Narsus frowning, "but I know that in the past there have been perhaps even stronger earthquakes, and Peshawar has always remained standing ... even if not completely and, as I see, also this time it is still there, dented, but standing. Look" he added, pointing to the gate that opened to let a group of men on horseback pass. "Kishward is coming towards us, we will soon know the extent of the damage."
"I hope will also give us some explanation about what happened to Qbad and Daryun" Lucian said, in a tone that sounded rather annoyed.
"I hope so too. I go ahead" Arslan said and, moving a gesture to Narsus to say him to follow, he spurred his horse forward.
The strategist was immediately next to him with Elam and Alfrida. Jaswant followed them like a shadow.
"The old man is still angry not to have been informed before the truth" Alfrida said, from her horse galloping.
"Yes, I'm afraid you are right" nodded the strategist. "But I advise you not to let Lucian hear you to call him old man."
"Do you think you could spank me?" Alfrida asked, exaggerating a frightened expression on her graceful visage.
"The noble Lucian is a marzban of Parsia," Elam snarled behind them. "You have to show him more respect!"
Alfrida shrugged. "I show people the respect they deserves. I don't care about noble or military titles."
"Lucian is a good man, and a valiant soldier," Arslan said. "Although sometimes, I must admit, he is a bit 'boring", he added, smiling.
"How when do he insist on finding you a wife?" asked Alfrida, and had a short laugh.
"Above all when he wants to find me a wife" Arslan answered and smiled, though the heart burned in his chest, as if wrapped in a thorn bush. The uncertainty for Daryun's fate gnawed at his soul until it bleed.
The two groups of knights met on the cobbled road, against the backdrop of the arid mountains and the mighty border fortress.
Kishward had come to meet his Shah accompanied by ten men of his guard. When he stopped the horse in front of Arslan's white stallion, covered with sweat under the harness of gold, Azrael planed down, over his arm with a shrill cry.
"Welcome back to Peshawar, your Majesty" greeted Kishward. He started to get off his horse to kneel before the sovereign, but Arslan stopped him with a gesture and flanked the steed to his, then held out a hand to grip the wrist of the faithful general.
Azrael gave a sort of peep and rose into the air again in a flutter of wings.
"I'm happy to see you again, Kishward, my friend," said the young Shah.
"You make me too much honor, majesty. I am only your servant" replied Kishward.
Arslan smiled and hold tight the arm of the faithful marzban , before withdrawing his hand.
"We left immediately after receiving your message, Kishward" Narsus said. "I don't hide you that we are all very worried."
"You have traveled in forced march to get here from Ectabana in such a short time," the general replied, and his eyes went over the dust-covered riders who were coming, led by Lucian. "Your men and horses are exhausted," he observed.
"Have you any news about Daryun and his men?" Arslan asked and, despite his effort to keep a controlled tone, spoke impetuously all in one breath.
Kishward looked at him, then turned to Narsus. The strategist frowned and moved his head in a slight nod of agreement.
"We found something, your majesty," the Peshawar commander finally admitted. He brought his hand to the side of the saddle and, in the astonished silence of those present, pulled out a bundle of black and red cloth, dirty and ragged but carefully folded, adorned with a now broken buckle on which a sapphire gem shone. Kishward held the object a few moments between hands, before give it to the young Shah. "I'm sorry," he said.
Alfrida put a hand to her mouth; Elam tightened his lips; Jaswant's dark gaze flashed in a sinister lightning. Arslan felt the blood flow away from his face as he stared in disbelief at what the general held out to him.
It was Narsus who took the black cloak folded by Kishward's hands. The face stiffened in an inscrutable mask, the strategist looked at the ragged fabric stained with dried blood.
"We believe they are all dead" announced Kishward, funereal.
Frozen, Arslan staggered in the saddle and had to force himself to still listen to Kishward's words.
"We've already recovered several bodies," the Peshawar commander continued. "Zaravant made them take to the fortress on wagons, while the search continues with Jimsa of Turan. I fear that many other bodies will be sent to us shortly. Regarding Daryun, only his cloak has been found."
"Only his cloak?" Narsus asked, looking at Kishward. "So you have not found his body, and I imagine not even the carcass of his horse."
"No, at least not yet," Kishward replied.
Narsus smiled with a hard smile. "We can continue to hope" said and stretched the black cloak to Arslan with a gesture so firm that almost stuck it in his lap.
"Killing Daryun is not a simple feat, neither for men nor for demons" he asserted aloud, turning to his companions who were remained petrified, "and we have already had proof of this on several occasions. Therefore, until I see his body with my own eyes, I will not believe his death."
"Farangis said the Djinn would take her to him," said Alfrida, shaking.
"The Djinn of the priestess have never failed", underlined Jaswant, speaking for the first time.
Elam nodded and, pushing his horse forward, joined Arslan. "Have confidence, your majesty" he said.
Arslan turned to him. He wanted to show himself confident, but the torn cloak he held in his hands seemd to him as heavy as a stone. He was not ready to reign without Daryun's support. He was one of the most loyal friends and allies he had. He had saved his life, Arslan did not know more how many times, and had always been by his side, ready to defend, support, advise him. Together with Narsus, they were the two columns on which he had built his kingdom, and his very identity. He owed him too much. He couldn't lose him like that.
"Your Majesty" Narsus called him.
The young Shah shook himself at the voice of the strategist. He looked up at him and caught a whole speech in the look that Narsus addressed him. It was not time to panic.
"Tell me about Qbad," he ordered, forcing himself to keep a detached tone as he hear the army approaching his shoulders. "And please, give me a report of the damage suffered by the fortress due to the earthquake."
"Please come, your Majesty" invited the severe general of Peshawar. "Qbad feel much better. I will lead you to him."
"Yeah, a good news!" Alfrida sighed.
"The fortress suffered a lot of damage due to the earthquake, and we had some victims," Kishward continued. He nodded to Lucian just arrived.
"One good news and one bad news," Elam muttered.
Lucian, covered with dust from head to toe, returned Kishward's greeting with a kind gesture. On the verge of smiling, he changed his expression when saw what Arslan held in his hands.
"Don't draw hasty conclusions" Narsus said, before the marzban spoke. "His torn cloak is not sufficient evidence to say that Daryun is dead."
Lucian became gloomy. "I know how much you all are bound to him, especially you, Majesty, but what I see certainly does not make me hope well" he said.
Arslan frowned and squeezed the ragged fabric between his fingers. "Hope is something I don't want to give up, Lucian" he said with renewed determination.
The marzban could say what he wanted, Narsus was right and Arslan would not give up. He had a friend to rescue and a kingdom to defend. He could not give up. Daryun and Narsus had made him the Shah of Parsia, and he did not mean to disappoint them.
Arslan straightened his shoulders and looked up at his fortress, in front of him.
"Now I want to know which enemy is attacking us and why. Bring me to Qbad!"