Arslan Senki

The walls of red sandstone towered tall and thick. The fortress of Peshawar was constructed in all respects to exhibit the military might of Pars. There was not a single superfluous ornament to be seen.

The gates of the fortress were even made of thick oak slabs, stacked four deep and plated in iron, and moreover layered double. The eastern walls were also surrounded by a deep moat. That direction, after all, faced the kingdom's border.

Escorted by Kehsvad and his subordinates, Arslan and company entered the fortress. In a courtyard paved with flagstones, they dismounted and were ushered to the entryway.

With a bow, Keshvad said, "Now then, my fellow Marzban would make his greetings, Your Highness."

Standing in Arslan's line of sight was the figure of Bahman.

It worried Arslan to see that his appearance seemed to have aged even more than memory served.

"Why… if it isn't His Highness the crown prince."

Both the old veteran general's expression and voice concealed complicated feelings behind his courtesy. The mardan warriors surrounding Arslan secretly exchanged glances. Arslan's powers of observation, however, were not yet capable of perceiving all this. On the contrary, He must have grown clumsy in his old age, he thought in sympathy. In a gentle voice, he said, I thank you for all your trouble.

"Please, feel free to make use of this lounge, Your Highness," continued Keshvad. "This chair was used previously by His Majesty Andragoras during his eastern campaign, I welcome you to sit there."

Even as he guided the prince to the lounge, Keshvad relayed several orders practically all at once, allocating rooms for the prince's attendants and directing preparations for a celebratory banquet.

Here the seven of them were split into four rooms, divided into one for Arslan, one for Dariun and Giv, one for Narses and Elam, and Farangis and Afarid in the last. Arslan's chamber was the room King Andragoras had previously lodged in as well; it was the most luxuriously furnished in the entire fortress, and even came with a stone terrace. The other three apartments were located left, right, and opposite of this chamber. This room assignation reflected how meticulous and considerate Keshvad was.

And then there was Bahman.

"If only I didn't know. I shouldn't have known any of this. If I didn't know a thing, I could've pledged my eternal loyalty to that smart little prince…"

As he muttered to himself, pacing back and forth in a gloomy hall, several of his subordinates stared at the Marzban's figure in bewilderment.

.

Zandeh, who had yet to wipe away the blood from the cut on his cheek, reported their circumstances to his liege and begged pardon over and over again.

"Your Highness Hirmiz, that bunch has completely succeeded in escaping to Fort Peshawar. I cannot apologize enough for my worthless incompetence."

"No need. Saying sorry won't chase them out of Fort Peshawar."

Hirmiz's voice was bitter.

If he had personally taken command, he thought, would he not have been able to get at least a little more out of it? Though he did not think Zandeh lacked ability, things hadn't gone as hoped.

The blow he'd received when unhorsed by Narses had come with unexpected aftereffects. In particular, he seemed to have sprained his left wrist, and until this morning, had not been able to mount a horse again.

"That damned hack artist Narses. Not only did he have me unhorsed in such an unsightly manner, he dared claim that Andragoras's brat surpasses me in caliber. Next up, I'll have that brat brutally killed."

With that decision made, Hirmiz gave his left hand a shake. It no longer hurt.

Ultimately, Arslan and his company had ended up in Fort Peshawar. But this was not the end. There should still be any number of opportunities to make up lost ground. Had he himself not escaped with his life even from amid those raging flames?

.

As for the self-proclaimed "vagabond minstrel" Giv, after taking a bath to clean off his body, he sat at a table in the room sipping nabid and snacking on walnuts and olives. Unlike the previous few nights, he should have a comfortable night to look forward to, but somehow or other he wasn't in a pleasant mood.

"This so wasn't worth it," thought Giv.

These past few days, Dariun had been constantly traveling with Farangis. Even Narses had been lucky enough to be with a pretty girl. The only who'd not had the same fortune was Giv.

"I certainly haven't the nerve to woo Lady Farangis," said Dariun, and Narses too insisted, "There's nothing between us, I swear, nothing happened!" Since they weren't the kind of men who would feign ignorance over that sort of thing, the truth was, probably nothing really had happened.

But if that were the case, it was hopeless to talk about it. How could idiots like them waste such precious opportunities? thought Giv, who had no interest in any other interpretation of events. Well, then again, as Giv was the one who considered it better to put fun first, from now on he should be able to get his chances before they could too. One could say that longing for something and chasing after it was the greatest pleasure of life.

Before Narses became a hermit and secluded himself at Mount Bashur, he had been a courtier, and there'd been more or less a couple of rumors of affairs floating around. It was said that Dariun, too, when dispatched as an envoy to Serica, had fallen in love with a beautiful princess of that nation. Giv wasn't sure about the details, but there was enough out there about either of them that he couldn't just dismiss them as his love rivals.

.

Just like Giv, or no, even more unhappy, was Elam.

"Narses ain't here?" said Afarid, who'd come to visit their room.

Which Elam refused to allow. "Don't you get over-familiar with Lord Narses. You've barely known him for days."

Afarid had absolutely no intention to put up with that.

"How long a relationship's been don't got anything to do with its depth. Don't you get that?"

"You don't even know Lord Narses's favorite food."

"He ate my cooking without a single complaint."

"Well, that's because Lord Narses is kind. No way the cooking of someone like you could be appetizing."

The slender brows of the Zott chieftain's daughter bristled.

"What's with you? Just so's you know, I'm older than you. Didn't your folks teach you how to respect your elders?!"

"They sure did. Told me I should choose who to observe proper decorum with. Lord Narses has great ambitions. If you get in his way, I won't forgive you."

"As if I gotta be forgiven by you of all people!"

It was a pointless argument no matter how one looked at it. When it finished, Afarid burst out of Narses and Elam's room. In her own way, she was embarrassed. It wasn't like she'd wanted to get in a fight with Narses's friends or anything. She'd even wanted Elam to tell her all sorts of things.

Afarid returned to her own room, where Farangis, dressed as if she had just finished her bath, was currently seated on the carpet polishing her sword. Suddenly, all too aware of how beautiful the other woman was, Afarid sat down beside her, and the kahina's green eyes glanced over at the girl.

"So, you fancy Sir Narses, do you?" she asked with a hint of a smile.

Afarid was awed by Farangis's beauty. The Zott chieftain's daughter was more than pretty herself, but it was obvious that the depth and profundity of her allure could not possibly hold up to that of Farangis.

"… You sayin' I can't?"

At that defiant tone of stubborn refusal, Farangis smiled.

"Should you fancy Sir Narses, you must not become a hindrance. At present, more than any individual woman, that good man dreams of the revival of an entire nation. For the time being, is it not fine to simply watch over him?"

Afarid recognized that the beautiful kahina was right, but it galled her to be so obediently persuaded.

"Ain't no point revivin' the country or whatever. That'll just create a new bunch of nobles and slaves. Guy as smart as Narses shoulda realized this already."

Though the girl spoke with a spirit of strength and intelligence, the beautiful kahina

"Perhaps that is so. However, it being your Narses, he shall perhaps discover some way to overcome this."

Afarid was quiet.

"It is precisely because you thought of him as such a man that you fell for him, is it not?"

"Yeah, I got it." As Afarid replied, she stared at her conversational partner with somewhat of a mix of annoyance and defeat. "But you sure are a real busybody. Why'd you butt in like that?"

"Do forgive me if I have offended. I understand I have indeed been meddlesome, but as I too have personal experience in such matters, you see, I could not think of it as someone else's business."

Seeing Farangis's expression, Afarid stopped asking intrusive questions. The beautiful kahina, long hair swaying, resumed polishing her sword.

.

The "Herald of Death" chirped cheerfully. The boy who was his old friend — the crown prince Arslan — had come specially with meat. It was the prince's thanks for saving him.

"Keshvad, what about the other? Ever have Azrael and Sorush been together!"

"As for that…" Keshvad's voice was a bit grave. "I sent the birds with one of my trusted men to infiltrate the capital and investigate the situation. This man of mine was originally a zanj, but as he was honest and devoted, I had him made azat. He has worked well for me, but it seems he has fallen at the hands of the enemy. He has not contacted me for some days now."

"So Sorush is also…?"

"I am afraid so…"

Face clouding over, Keshvad gently patted Azrael's head. As the falcon pecked at the meat, it ruffled its feathers slightly, as if quite content.

"Between the two siblings, Sorush's quality was not quite that of Azrael's. Even so, seeing as how they got along so well, I cared for them both without discrimination. I can only hope that the unthinkable has not occurred, as I fear."

Arslan nodded. Some years ago, when Keshvad came to the capital from the western border to report his victory in battle, he had brought two chicks along with him. They'd caught Arslan's eye, and he'd even wanted to keep one for himself, but seeing how difficult it was to separate the brothers, he'd let them go…

Arslan changed the topic. He was not getting too far ahead of himself in speaking, but rather, if he were to be charged with the governance of the nation, he wished to abolish the institute of ghulam, and meant to impart his intentions to Keshvad.

Keshvad's eyes widened. "You say you wish to emancipate the slaves?"

Arslan gave him a big nod. Ever since escaping from the shahrdar Hojir's castle and proceeding to flee through the mountains, the prince had continued to consider the matter. What Narses said was correct. If, acting only on momentary sentiment, he were to free just a few slaves, there would be no effect. However, if he planned it out properly, taking his time to work out different possibilities, finding some way to benefit the country, surely he would be able to emancipate all the slaves then, no?

Keshvad, his expression one of deep rumination, gazed at the figure of Azrael pecking at his meat.

"Both Sir Narses's suggestion and Your Highness's resolution are most admirable. I, personally, have no objections. However, should you truly bring this into fruition, I'm afraid the majority of the shahrdaran will not side with you."

"Narses said so as well."

Arslan laughed. An expression rather bittersweet for his age surfaced on his finely featured face.

"And yet, when the Lusitanians have been driven away, I believe that Pars cannot be allowed to return utterly to its old ways. If this country cannot be made better than it was before, then fighting for it is meaningless."

"Indeed. But what does His Majesty, your lord father, say about these considerations of yours? Until now, I have never heard that King Andragoras aspires to abolish the institute of ghulam."

"If I am able to rescue my lord father, I think that alone should strengthen the influence of my voice. I am certain he will lend an ear to my suggestions then."

The way he spoke was as if he were trying to convince himself.