«Then you take your army across the desert and through the mountains to the Valley of the Hashomi. I have no real plans for what to do then. There may be nothing to do except fight, and go on fighting until all the Hashomi are dead. That will be a long and bloody battle, but when it is over the Hashomi will never again be a danger to Dahaura, not in the time of your children's children's children.»
«A very pretty speech, Blade,» said the Baran, yawning. «And a plan almost as pretty. I can see points where I must ask you more, but not now. We shall go ahead with the destruction of the Thieves, and when that is done we shall talk of your plan again. If we use it, and if it works-Blade, would you like to be the Hand of the Baran for the Valley of the Hashomi, when we have conquered it?»
Blade was pleasantly surprised. He'd known he was high in the Baran's favor, but not this high. A Hand of the Baran was the viceroy for a large province or a wealthy city, answerable only to the Baran himself. The position carried with it the highest rank among the nobility of Dahaura, if the man didn't have that rank already. He usually did. Hands of the Baran were normally chosen from those families who'd been high-ranking nobles for two centuries. For Blade to be given such an appointment would create a sensation.
He said as much, and the Baran smiled. «That is as may be. Those of the old nobles who have served me as well as you have-I will listen to what they may say. The rest can be silent.»
The Baran yawned, stretched, rose shakily to his feet, and yawned again. «Now-no more talk until we have all slept. Right now I think I might fall asleep in my bath and drown before the women could pull me out!» He waved to Blade and Giraz, dismissing them, and wobbled out of the room.
While the Baran and his chief servants slept, the fighting men of Dahaura moved against the Thieves Guild. They had the aid of every armed man the Brothel Keepers could assemble, led by Kubin Ben Sarif himself. The doctor who'd insisted on keeping Kubin in bed was seized by four strong men and bound to the bed himself. He wasn't hurt, just made uncomfortable enough to make him watch his words in the future. Then Kubin went out to join the fighting.
The fighting was short but savage. The Council of Twelve was gone and many of the Thieves' planned hiding places turned out to be traps filled with the Baran's men. The Thieves died with the stubborn fury of cornered rats, but they still died. In two days the six major cities of the Baranate were clear of Thieves. In two more days there wasn't a Thief alive and free anywhere the Baran's authority could reach. A few had probably disguised themselves and fled to isolated villages or an animal-like existence in the swamps and forests. They would be no danger to anyone.
The Thieves would have swiftly become a danger, though, if the Baran hadn't struck when he did. Several of the secret storehouses of the Thieves turned out to contain quantities of Hashomi drugs-more than a ton altogether. That by itself was enough to spread chaos in Dahaura.
Two weeks after the raid on the warehouse, the Baran's proclamation was read in all the cities and towns of Dahaura. Within ten days, all men belonging to the so-called Fighters of Junah were to leave every place where this proclamation was being read and go elsewhere. Those who did not would be publicly executed without trial. A list of the crimes of the Fighters of Junah followed, not mentioning the Hashomi but hinting at the drugs.
«That will make sure people are ready to help drive the Fighters out, or turn in those who stay,» said Blade. «It won't get people ready to tear the Fighters apart, or burn the women and children alive in their houses-I hope.»
Then the Baran ordered the Desert Riders withdrawn from the desert into the more settled lands of Dahaura, and waited.
Pulling back the Riders was another idea of Blade's. «If we leave them in position, the Hashomi will have an excuse for not coming to aid the Fighters of Junah. They will say that the Desert Riders were too strong for them. Many of the Fighters might believe this.
«But if we leave the Hashomi a clear desert, there will be nothing to keep them from coming except their own refusal to do so. All the Fighters of Junah will then know that the Hashomi have not kept their promises, and can no longer be trusted.»
The Baran shook his head, «Blade, did you ever consider joining the Hashomi in their struggle against Dahaura?»
«No. By the time I knew that I would have to take sides at all, I knew that I would be with you. The Hashomi plan nothing that any sane man can wish to see done.»
«I am very grateful to Junah that your eyes were opened so soon and so well. You would have been a more dangerous enemy to Dahaura than I care to think about. As it is, you have already earned my gratitude and more rewards than it is in my power to give you. You will have an honored name in Dahaura's history even if your horse stumbles tomorrow and you break your neck.»
Blade couldn't help wondering if the Baran might be considering arranging such an accident, to save himself the trouble of giving Blade all his promised rewards. That was always possible, in a land, so filled with intrigue as Dahaura. It did not seem very likely, given the Baran's character, and in any case it would hardly be tactful to raise the point.
So Blade only said, «Thank you,» and reached for more beer.
The Fighters of Junah poured out of the cities like rats leaving a sinking ship, and scattered in a dozen different directions. Shortly they found themselves being herded west by carefully planted rumors, by the Baran's cavalry patrols; and by the outraged farmers of the lands to the east. Those who didn't move in the right direction were often lynched by the farmers, or driven into forests and swamps to starve along with the Thieves.
Day after day the reports came in of the Fighters gathering in the west, and day after day the Baran assembled his army. He was going to lead west every man not needed to defend the walls of the city and maintain law and order within them nearly eighty thousand altogether. It was the greatest army in the history of Dahaura, and the battle when it met the Fighters of Junah would be the greatest battle.
In the end, though, there was no battle. The Fighters of Junah gathered in the west, nearly a hundred thousand of them. At first they were able to live precariously by stealing cattle and crops, catching fish, and picking nuts and berries. A hundred thousand men could not live long that way, and hunger came swiftly. After hunger came fear and despair. The Hashomi did not come at all.
Now the reports that reached Blade day after day told of men drifting away from the Army of the Fighters. They were turning themselves in to the Baran's garrison or the local population, willing to do almost anything to be fed.
Then the Baran issued his second proclamation, with its pardon for those Fighters who surrendered, and led his army west. Blade rode with him, hoping that nothing would happen to give the Baran a chance to rush into danger once more.
Nothing did. Most of the «campaign» against the Fighters of Junah was about as dangerous as rounding up cattle. The trained warriors among the Fighters seldom surrendered, but they were too scattered to be really dangerous. The largest number found in one place was only two thousand, and the Desert Riders broke them in a single bloody charge. On that day the Baran was thirty miles away, talking with some of the leaders among the Fighters who'd surrendered.
He mentioned the offer of land and free worship for those Fighters who marched with him against the Hashomi. Even Blade was surprised at the response. The prisoners were almost incoherent with rage against the Hashomi and, above all, against the Master. They hadn't seen a single Hashom lifting a finger to help them since the night of the warehouse raid. What would that mean, but that the Master had only been playing with them? They'd played along with him, and now the blood of thousands of their followers was on the Master's hands.