Castles Made of Sand Ch. 01

Edited by AnotherWannabe

*****

This story is the first part of a series. In this chapter, you will be introduced to...

Jahalia: The jewel of the Dunes. Jahalia is the largest city-state in the Akasha desert. It is an obligatory stop for any caravan travelling through the Dunes.

Sindbad: A freelance thief, opportunist and general troublemaker. Sindbad grew up as an orphan on the streets of Jahalia. Now that he has grown into a young man, he is eager to make a name for himself. Sindbad prefers chaos and anarchy to order and tyranny. Chaos allow the clever and the capable to prosper and punishes laziness and complacency. His patron god is Eshu - the trickster.

The Dakini: A secretive sect of warrior priestesses. They usually live apart from the rest of society, but sometimes they travel out on pilgrimages to combat the many evils of the world.

The Sword of Khalid: A curious artefact given to humanity by the gods. According to legend, it has the power to make its wielder invincible, but it will only grant this power once. It is currently in the possession of the war hero Khalid. Previously, it was known as the Dancing Sword.

A Dakini in Jahalia

It was midday. Most of the people of Jahalia were resting, as was Hermes. He lay upon his mat on the outskirts of the marketplace and dreamt of places that he'd only heard about in stories. Places with no sand or dust, but lush meadows and rolling hills of grass. It felt like paradise, the kind of place the infidels of the north believed they would go when they died. He waded naked through a river and plucked fruit from overhanging branches. Women with fair skin and blonde hair sat on the bank and dangled their feet in the water. They smiled at him. As the dream went on, Hermes started to become lucid. He realised it was only illusion, but he wanted to linger in the fantasy as long as possible.

When he awoke, it was to a beautiful sound, the rattling of the sequins. He opened his eyes and saw a small group of belly dancers nearby. Their lower bodies undulated to the thumping rhythm of a drummer. Gold coins hung from their hip scarves, creating the unmistakable sound. In other places, gold signified wealth. Jahalia was a trading city, and rich on luxury fabrics and metals, but you can't eat gold or velvet.

Hermes noticed that one of the dancers had a rash on her neck. It was similar to the one Hermes had on his lower back, and those he'd seen recently on other people. Over the past few weeks, it had grown from being a nuisance to a serious handicap. It didn't hurt as much as it had yesterday, but that was probably temporary. Hermes looked back at the girl. She was even younger than he was and she was pretty. He hoped she would be one of those who'd recover. For him, it seemed to be too late.

"Good afternoon, drowsy eyes!"

A slender man came strutting across the marketplace to the place where Hermes lay. Sindbad was a friend of sorts. He was a great guy to hang out with - an accomplished jokester and drinking buddy. If you were foolish enough to lend him a large sum of money, though, you were unlikely to ever see him again. Today, he seemed to be in a particularly good mood, which usually meant that he had been up to some sort of shenanigans. It was likely related to the large bundle he carried in his arms.

"Afternoon, Sindbad," Hermes yawned. "I often find that you are curiously clean-shaven and well groomed, even when you appear to be starving."

"I won't be starving tonight," Sindbad said with a grin. "I've completed that heist I told you about."

"The heist? In the palace? My friend, you shouldn't have bragged so loudly about it in the tavern. What if someone gave your name to the guards?"

"I don't hang much around in those parts of the slums. I doubt anyone knew who I was. Anyway, people are usually good at keeping to themselves." Sindbad grinned. "I certainly wouldn't go talk to a guard voluntarily, myself."

Hermes rolled his eyes. "Well, before I let you brag about the loot, there is something I need to ask you. I am not sure if, in your drunken mind, you were able to hear me or remember what I said, but I asked you to check on my sister the next time you passed by her district."

Sindbad rubbed his head. "As a matter of fact, I have no memory of such a request, but, being the good friend that I am, I went by that place on my own accord."

Hermes frowned. "Not to bed her I hope?"

"What? No!" Sindbad looked genuinely offended, which was not something Hermes had often seen. "I stopped by her place and did some discreet asking around. For your sake. A favour for my dear friend who always seems to think the worst of me."

"The dear friend may have good reason to be suspicious."

"I believe the dear friend must be suffering from selective memory," Sindbad muttered.

"Forgive my suspicious nature," Hermes laughed. "Please, tell me what you learned."

"She's sweet on some caravan boy. He's been bringing her jewellery from one of our neighbouring cities." Sindbad turned and looked his friend directly in the eyes. "When are you going to tell her that she still has a living brother?"

The phrasing of the question hurt Hermes more than Sindbad could have suspected.

"When I have managed to scramble together some money. If I went to her now, I might be tempted to beg her for a loan. I can't become a burden on my only baby sister." Hermes sighed. "As her only male relative, it would be my duty provide her with a wedding dowry."

"Then you better hurry," Sindbad said, with concern rather than sarcasm. "The boy she's seeing seems pretty well off. Soon, she may not have any need of your help."

Hermes turned away. "Then let her marry the boy and be happy. If the gods granted me that, then I'd be happy to die poor and alone."

Sindbad studied him. "You're being awfully dramatic today, Hermie. If you want to make money, you need to take greater risks. Live every day as if it's the last. It's not like we have much to lose," his smile widened, "but there is everything to gain."

"I don't believe there will be much to gain from thieving in the near future," Hermes said. "If the caravans don't start bringing in more food, more people will begin to starve. Then it will be everyone for themselves and gold will have little value."

Sindbad laughed. "Then I have all the more reason to spend my loot as soon as possible."

Hermes didn't hear the last comment. He had become aware of a lone woman walking across the dusty marketplace on bare feet. She stood out from those around her. Her stance was proud, and she did not have the hunched shoulders of a peasant woman. She wore an opaque veil that reached down almost to the tip of her nose, leaving only the lower half of her face exposed. It identified her as a Dakini.

She wore an exquisitely embroidered dupatta that she had draped over her shoulder and wrapped tightly around her frame. The veil over her face was of equally luxurious make. These items must have been given to her as gifts. The rest of her clothing were simple, seemingly home-made and allowed for great flexibility of movement. On her hip hung a long katana sheathed within a scabbard. The scabbard was simple, but the sword was likely of the highest quality. Their swords were the only worldly possessions the Dakini took pride in owning. The luxurious garments didn't matter.

"Is that one of those warrior priestesses?" Sindbad asked his friend.

Hermes nodded. "Yes. I've never seen one before. I don't think the Caliph likes having them in his city. He'd rather have them out in the desert handling raiders, than in the streets stirring up trouble by killing petty thieves and deceitful merchants. Keep your hands out of other people's pockets around her."

The Dakini walked over to a stall and perused the foods that were available. She did not remove her veil to look at the wares. Instead, she allowed the merchant to hold the fruits and herbs up so that she could smell their quality.

Hermes assumed the merchant was honoured that the Dakini had decided to visit his stall, even though the Dakini would not be able to offer him any payment for his wares. They had no worldly possessions aside from their weapons, clothes and other bare necessities, so the Dakini were allowed to take whatever they needed. Refusal from the merchant was likely to be punished by the guards. Still, it was unlikely that she would take more than a mouthful, unless she was planning to leave the city.

A visiting dignitary from the north-western lands of Gomorrah was standing in line behind the Dakini. It was obvious from his erratic movements that he felt she was taking too long. Hermes didn't like the Gomorreans, they had the airs of superiority about them that far surpassed those of even the local nobility. Their costumes were strange and perverse. Rumours had it that they ate dogs. To Hermes, that made them little better than dogs themselves.

"Milady, would you please make up your mind!" the man yelled impatiently to the Dakini, in the crude language of his people.

The Dakini spun around and put her hand on the hilt of her katana. Hermes knew that Dakini fighting etiquette dictated that she could not unsheathe her weapon in public for any other reason than to kill. Therefore, she waited, presumably hoping the man would realise the danger he was in and apologize before his fate was sealed.

A Jahalian servant was trying to convince his Gomorrean master of the danger he was in, but the hound would have none of it. He had decided that it was his honour that was being insulted and wanted to teach the girl a lesson. As soon as he raised his hand, he realised his mistake. The Dakini grabbed the man by the wrist and with her other hand hit him so hard in the stomach that he lost his breath and fell to his knees, her movements so quick that they were barely perceivable. The man lay in front of her gasping for air. The Dakini once more put her hand on the hilt. If she had decided to behead the man, she could have done it in the blink of an eye.

The man was trying to get up, fuming with anger. His servant got down beside him.

"Master, she would kill you," he pleaded, before he turned to the woman. "Most holy sister, this is an emissary from a foreign land and a personal guest of the Caliph. He does not know our customs."

The Dakini stood in silence as the servant dragged his foreign master away to safety.

Hermes was over the moon. He had heard legends of Djinns, Angels, Sorceresses and Dakini, but he had never witnessed a living one with his own eyes. Looking over at Sindbad, he saw that his friend was equally impressed.

"That was amazing," Sindbad said. "I should hire her as my bodyguard. That would make the Brotherhood stop harassing me."

Hermes laughed. "The Dakini are not mercenaries. They serve their code. The only way to enlist her services would be to defeat her in single combat."

Sindbad turned to Hermes. It looked like a plan was quickly forming in his head. His eyes implored Hermes to elaborate and Hermes, being a lover of folktales, was happy to comply.

"The Dakini believe their prowess in battle is a result of the enlightenment they gain from ascetic living. If someone defeats them in a duel, then that person must be more enlightened than they are."

Sindbad had gotten a mad glare in his eyes. He slowly unpacked the bundle he had been clutching by his side and produced an extraordinary-looking sword. It was a curved scimitar, as beautiful as the new moon,

"That sword looks special," Hermes commented. "Who did you take it from?"

"From Khalid," Sindbad said. "Noble hero and insufferable braggart."

Hermes jaw dropped. "Did you steal Khalid's Dancing Sword? The one that makes its wielder invincible?"

Sindbad nodded and gave the sword a few lazy practice swings.

"Put the thing away," Hermes exclaimed. "Khalid will already have sent his soldiers out to look for it. He'll skin you for this."

Sindbad shrugged. "What do I care? I'm invincible."

"Do you really believe that is true? You're a fool. It's only superstition."

"Of course I believe it," Sindbad said confidently. "I know you do too, Hermie. You love such stories."

"Just because I like hearing tall tales doesn't mean I believe them. I'm not exactly a religious man."

"Well, I am. I believe, even though I'm not that pious." Sindbad looked over towards the veiled woman. "I even intend to prove my faith."

Hermes now realised what Sindbad had in mind. Sindbad was a gambler. Whenever there was something to be gained, the foolish twit would not hesitate in risking his life to take it.

"Sinbad, please," Hermes begged. "Even if the stories are true, the magic is supposed to only work one time. And if not, the Dakini will cut you down for simply walking up to her with an unsheathed sword. You'll be strewn across the marketplace in little pieces. You need to hide before Khalid's soldiers find their way here."

Sindbad simply laughed. "Have you never taken a leap of faith, Hermie? You should. The feeling... it's so... liberating."

The Duel

Sindbad walked confidently across the market to where the veiled woman was standing.

"Greeting, milady," he said and bowed before her.

The woman slowly turned towards him. She did not acknowledge his presence in any other way.

"Lady, I know that you come from a most respected order of warriors," Sindbad said in a flamboyant voice, loud enough to draw attention from the other people at the market. "But I believe that my soul is more enlightened than yours. If you disagree, then you will accept my challenge to a duel. Our skill with the sword will serve to determine whose philosophy is the truest."

The Dakini was standing completely still. Her cold demeanour made Sindbad nervous.

"Do you accept my challenge?" he asked.

His voice was faltering. This wasn't like him. He always kept his cool. The Dakini neither moved nor spoke. She didn't even pull back her veil to look at him. Sindbad lifted his sword up and pointed it toward the woman.

"Do you accept my challenge?" he repeated.

Sindbad never saw the Dakini blade leave its scabbard. He never saw it cut through the air towards him. Still, before the blade had reached his heart, he had somehow managed to parry the blow with Khalid's sword. The Dakini struck at him again and again, but somehow he was able to avert all her attacks. It was as if his limbs were moving on their own accord. The magic was working.

The fight went on. The Dakini are known for fighting with restraint and stoic grace, but this one was now battling like a cornered animal. The celerity of her movements were inhuman, as were the ferocity of her attacks. Sindbad felt his muscles ache in pain. He was gasping for air, while his opponent hadn't as much as broken a sweat. She switched between different fighting styles and tried a limitless variety of strikes and feints.

Being blind, the Dakini had no idea who her opponent was, but his heavy panting betrayed his inferior stamina. This confused her. If he were able to match her skill, he would have to be a great and noble warrior. He smelled like a beggar, but could be a travelling samurai or perhaps an ascetic monk. Perhaps his breathing was simply a trick to confuse her? She did not know. There was nothing to do but keep on fighting, hoping she would eventually break his defences.

Hermes had at first been watching the fight with great excitement, but now he was starting to get worried. He knew that Khalid's soldiers would soon find their way there. Then it dawned on him why Sindbad hadn't won yet. The magic of the sword made him invincible, meaning that he couldn't be killed or defeated as long as the fight lasted. The problem was that the sword did not guarantee victory. The Dakini could still fight him to a standstill. Hermes remembered a legend of a king who had taken the sword to fight a Naga princess, a monstrous woman with eight arms and the tail of a snake. The King fought her for several days, but eventually had to give up. The snake later tracked him down and killed him.

If the blade could not help him win, then Sindbad was in trouble. Once Khalid's men arrived, the magic of the blade would no longer protect him. They would drag him off to be tortured and executed.

A plan begun to take form in Hermes' head. The Dakini was blinded by her veil and was therefore reliant on her other senses. If Hermes could deafen her, then she would be unable to hear Sindbad's sword cut through the air. By the temple, there was a large gong. Hermes ran over to it and picked up the mallet that stood beside it. Then he lifted the mallet and struck the gong as hard as he could. It created an incredible sound that resonated across the marketplace, enough to drown out any other sound. It would certainly draw the attention of Khalid's soldiers, but that couldn't be helped. Once the gong stopped vibrating, Hermes struck it again. And again. And again.

The Dakini hesitated. The sound from the gong had deafened her and she was uncertain whether she should take off her veil and make use of her eyes. It would be sacrilege to expose her face to the mass of people that were watching, but the alternative was defeat. A searing pain in her right temple brought her to her knees. Sindbad had struck her with the pommel of his sword. She struck out at him blindly, but he deftly parried her. Then she felt the sharp edge of his blade against her throat. There was nothing she could do. He had her at his mercy and etiquette dictated that she should surrender and admit defeat.

"I submit," she said. "Kill me and release me from my duty."

Sindbad could hardly stand. He felt faint. The sun was burning. It was impossible to breathe the hot and dry air. Still, he smiled. The crowd was looking at him in awe and disbelief. They were so shocked by what they had witnessed that they didn't even dare to cheer.

"Did you see that," Sindbad shouted to his friend, who still carried the mallet. "I'm the greatest warrior in Jahalia."

As he stood there, basking in the glory of his victory, a host of soldiers swarmed into the marketplace. They immediately recognized the sword. Soon they had surrounded Sindbad and the veiled girl.

"Filthy thief," the leader shouted at Sindbad. "Surrender the sword!"

"Come and get it," Sindbad goaded.

The leader turned to one of the other soldiers. "Get him!"

"But he's carrying Khalid's sword," the soldier protested.

"It seems the fool has already used it to defeat that woman," the leader said with a wicked smile. "Grab him and put him in chains."

Sindbad turned to his defeated opponent, who sat silently in the sand.

"What would you do if I asked you to swear loyalty to me?" he asked her.

"I would be compelled to accept," she replied.

"Then I command you to save me from these thugs."

The soldiers realised it was probably wise to act quickly. One of them thrust his spear in the direction of Sindbad. It would have hit him in the belly and gutted him, but with a stroke of her blade, the Dakini separated the spearhead from its pole.

Sindbad laughed triumphantly. He handed Khalid's sword to the Dakini.

"Use this if you have to," he said, "but only if you really have to."

The Dakini took Khalid's sword and sheathed it. Then she pointed her own katana towards the soldiers and assumed a defensive stance.

"Why are you protecting this urchin, sister?" the leader of the soldiers yelled at the Dakini, having realised what she were. "He's a thief."

The Dakini did not answer. She did not even turn her face in his direction.

"The Dakini has sworn loyalty to me after I defeated her in honourable combat," Sindbad said to the soldiers. "She now carries Khalid's Dancing Sword. Your numbers don't matter. She can defeat you all."