KeYnNamM 

The Man-with-No-Name,

the King of No-One’s-Land

By: Ruwen Rouhs
(© 2022 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

RRouhs@tickiestories.us

Chapter 12
Campaign into an Unknown Country

Two days later in the evening, KeYnNamM's, Ikken and Aylal and the three escapees turned into the trail leading to Meryem’s spring. The sun was setting and everyone was overtire, even Amaynu, who was sitting on the donkey, holding the sleeping Aylal in front of him in the saddle. Looming figures in wide overgarments suddenly appeared silently like ghosts in the twilight when the first rocks of the mountain ridge rose from the sand between dense bushes. Neither KeYnNamM nor any of the others could react to their appearance in time.

One of the figures grabbed the donkey by the reins, a second dragged Amaynu from his mount, and the third bent his arms behind his back and tied him up. Others rushed at KeYnNamM and Ochuko and threw them to the ground. When one of the ghostly men tried to grab Ikken and attempted to rush into the dark. He tried to dive between the ghost's legs, but got caught in the figure's long overcoat and landed head first in the sand.

The leader of the group flipped open a blinding lantern and shone it in the face of Amaynu, whom he thought was the leader. Suddenly he exulted in surprise, "Brother, brother, Amaynu, my brother!" and began to hug and kiss Amaynu. "Amaynu my brother, Amaynu my dear big brother!" he shouted over and over again, "It's me, Wiwul your little one, your little brother! How I missed you, everyone missed you, mother and father, your sisters and brothers! Everyone missed you!" It took Amaynu a moment to catch himself, "Finally, Wiwul, finally I see you again!" The next moment he turned to the leader of the border guards, "Let go of those two right now. This is KeYnNamM, the Amestan, the king of No-One's-Land, and my friend Ochuko, and this!" he pointed at Ikken, who was pressed to the ground of the desert sons, "This is the grand-grand-grand-son of King Gaya! He is his successor. Let him go, or do you want to enrage your ruler!" Looking around the goldsmith's eyes searched for Aylal. However the boy had taken advantage of the confusion and disappeared into the darkness. "Where is Aylal!" he cried excitedly. "KeYnNamM, Aylal has disappeared! He may get lost in the dark!"

Meanwhile, the leader of the border patrol had helped KeYnNamM up. He bowed formally to the king of the No-One's-Land, "Pardon High Lord, friend of our leader Tarit! I have been sent to guard the path to Meryem's Spring and greet you! I am grieved to have received you in this way! Can you forgive me! I humbly beg you!" But the Amestan did not listen, he was worried about Aylal! "Later, later! We must find Aylal!" and he called into the night, " Aylal, Aylal, where are you my son! Birdie where are you! The ghosts are friends! Don't be afraid!"

They did not have to wait long until Aylal emerged from the darkness, rushed towards KeYnNamM and did not leave his side for the time being. The leader of the patrol blew a loud whistle and soon another man with horses appeared out of the darkness. The youngest of the desert riders guided the weary group to the spring, while the leader took coverage with the other border guards, to intercept uninvited travelers who wanted to visit the spring of Meryem.

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The next morning, KeYnNamM was awakened by a gentle touch. Still half asleep, he opened his eyes and looked into a pair of dark eyes, "Tarit! Brother! Tarit!" he cried happily, jumped up and the two men embraced.

Tarit was happy. At last, at last, he saw his KeYnNamM again. The first thing he said proudly was, "Half the Empire is talking about the fire of the prison camp and the prisoners escape! No one can explain how the fire started." he laughed "And the other half of the Empire chuckles gleefully because of the raid on the crystal transport! That’s what my spies told me.” He waited until KeYnNamM cleared his throat impatiently, "You'll be glad to hear this news, Brother! The governor wanted to ride on horseback go to the capital, to justify himself in front of the emperor! However, the emperor died suddenly! The people say, two black beasts have finished him off! Governor Gwasila is desperate now! He is so desperate and has decided to undertake a campaign against the sons of the dessert, a punitive expedition. He is not willing to wait until the old emperor is buried and the new emperor is enthroned. He wants to make up for his failure and surprise the new emperor by occuping the Kingdom of the Desert Sons and retrieving the crystals."

"Ennand already told me that the governor is hiring soldiers, mercenaries! That's why I'm here, and not just for your beautiful eyes!" laughed KeYnNamM, punching Tarit in the side in amusement. "But tell me, has the emperor really died? Who will be his successor? Perhaps one who cares about peace between us people of the Draa and the Empire, and between the Empire and the Desert Sons?"

"We cannot wait for your hope to be fulfilled! No! The Amenokal immediately informed all the clans and believe me, not one of the clans is a longing to become subjects of the Emperor!" Tarit hesitated for a moment, "And you King of No-One's-Land, where do you stand? Will you help me receive the governor's troops with dignity?"

"Why do you ask? I am here just for this reason. I may not have any troops, but Ikken and Aylal outweigh a whole army!" "Now you are exaggerating!" Then, however Tarit hesitated, "I accept Ikken as support. After all, by now it is told from tent to tent y your son will become a great leader!" His gaze slid over to Ikken, who was still sleeping peacefully. "For Aylal, however, I have another task, one more suited to his age! He shall guard Tamimt, my virgin Tamimt."

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Since his appointment as commander of the expeditionary corps, Areksim, the old fox, had tried to keep everything related to the campaign secret from the Emperor's spies as well as from the Desert Sons' informants, and from the public. This had not been easy and he would not have been successful without Udad and his well-trained Kapo. Nevertheless, the recruitment of mercenaries, the buying of equipment, mounts and transport animals had caused more of a stir than was desirable. Although the goal of the campaign was not made public, everyone who could put two and two together assumed that the stolen crystals were to be recovered. Furthermore they guessed Governor Gwasila wanted to catch and put to justice the unknown person or persons who had helped the prisoners of the penal camp to escape.  In the pubs people were sure that the desert sons had committed the robbery. But which ingenious men had set the prisoners free? Everybody expected the campaign would definitely be directed against the Amenokal and the Desert Sons. However, no one expected it to begin so soon. The only indication of a soon start was the sudden disappearance of the participants recruited as mercenaries.

Areksim had deliberately chosen a remote, abandoned residential castle, a tighremt, not far from Tinghir, as the training center. Now he sat on horseback in front of the gate of the dilapidated fortress and controlled the departure of his troops. Udad, the fugitive head of the Kapo of the penal camp, and now his first aide-de-camp and lieutenant, rode excitedly up and down the column of the former members of the Kapo, and attempted to bring order to the formation with scolding and blows.

Twelve men formed a fighting group. The men of the first two groups, all veteran mercenaries, kept exactly to the prescribed riding order. They carried their weapons, a short bow, arrows and lance, according to regulations and had the bag with their other equipment firmly attached to the saddle. A full water bag and the supply of feed for the horse was placed on the croup of their mount.

However the third group of twelve, composed of escaped convicts, challenged commander Areksim criticism. Furious, he ordered Udad to call the group to order. At the sight of the other five groups of twelve, all freshly hired men, Areksim turned his eyes to the sky in desperation and disappointment. The short period of training had not been able to transform the young men from the town and the surrounding countryside into soldiers. Sure, all of them could ride reasonably well, but most of them were hanging like a wet sack in the saddle, were holding the lance like a pitchfork, carrying the quiver with the bow and arrows much too far down on their backs, and had both the bag with the feed and the water bag only sloppily attached to the horse's croup.

Areksim was angry and disappointed at the same time. He was angry at himself for letting himself forced to take over the command of a troop made up almost entirely of beginners. He was disappointed that he had neither succeeded in improving the standard of training in such a short time nor their capability to fight. He was almost sure that the campaign would end in chaos if it depended exclusively to the training level of his troops. It would take a miracle to win a war against the Desert Sons with this force, and Areksim did not believe in miracles. He had begged the governor on his knees to desist from the plan, but could not convince him. He had only cursed and threatened to put him in the prison camp if he did not obey. One bright spot was the supply group. These men had all served in his previous campaigns and were

Areksim's small army left the old fort at a fast trot and soon crossed the border into the frontier country. The expedition corps rushed forward, for Areksim had ordered it to reach the resting place on the Draa before nightfall. The departure from it was planned for the early hours of the next day so that the first objective in the desert, the Meryem’s spring, could be reached in daylight. The advance into enemy territory had to be unobtrusive and very quick, for the old fox Areksim knew that only a surprise attack would enable his inexperienced troops to defeat the desert sons and capture the fortified Kasbah of the Amenokal.

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Tarit informed the Amenokal and the heads of the qsars, the fortified villages, near the border as soon as Tarit learned of the governor's attack plans through his spies. He had no trouble replenishing his force of battle-hardened frontiersmen with brave volunteers. Despite this, his force was still far smaller than expeditionary corps of the governor. His advantage was that all men were familiar with the territory and used to hardships as well as to a frugal life. This made his force far better suited for a fight in the desert than an army of mercenary consisting mainly of inexperienced rookies. A further that could be overlooked was that his men had to defend their homes, their families, their way of life. They were willing to do this to the point of exhaustion and not fight for money like mercenaries.

Tarit, who was familiar with the desert from his youth, had opted for the mosquito strategy: bite unexpectedly, inflict damage on the enemy, and buzz off before the victim could strike back. To this end, he had divided his group in two. With his half of the men he hid on the plateau above Meryem’s spring. The other half he had ordered in the early evening already to the other side of the Wadi.  There they should wait on for his command. This group was led by Yufayyur, the brother of his three wives, and his favorite brother-in-law. Yufayyur was not only exceptionally smart and brave for a sixteen-year-old, but also more handsome than the youngster of his age group.  Therefore, everybody called him Yufayyur, that is "More beautiful than the moon."

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To be continued...

Posted 07/22/2022