“Oho? An interesting tradition indeed!” Param replied, buying Vir’s lie.
Occasionally, a kid would peek out and stare at him. But whenever he waved back, they’d go back and hide, which made him smile.
“They are shy, but they warm up eventually,” Param said.
“And when they do, you’ll wish they hadn’t. You won’t be rid of them!” Rayali added with a chuckle.
Vir smiled graciously. “So, you’re based out of Saran?”
Param shook his head. “No, Daha. We are returning from a local run to Saran. Soon, we will be bound east for the Kin’jali capital of Sonam.”
“Oh?” It meant Param likely knew a great deal about the city. He’d be a chal to let an opportunity like this slip by.
“So, tell me about Daha. What’s it like?”
“You’ve never been?” Param asked.
“First time.”
A grin spread upon Param’s face.
“Oh, do I have stories for you, friend! I think our trip is going to go quickly. Yes, indeed!”
When Rayali gave Vir a look of deep pity, he realized he’d made a horrible mistake.
My ears are going to regret this, aren’t they?
63VIMANA HIRANYA
“What you have to understand,” Param began, “is that the very name Daha means ‘to blaze brightly.’ And indeed, the city certainly lived up to this lofty name long ago.”
“I take it times have changed?” Vir asked, riding alongside the husband and wife. The pace, while slower than what he was used to, suited Bumpy just fine, and made it easy to converse.
“Alas, they certainly have. The capital has seen better days, and that is putting it lightly. The place is a mess. Putrid Warrens ring the entire city, surrounding the Grand Moat, and hardly a trace of its former glory still exists.”
Neel, finding the conversation less than interesting, yawned and nodded off from his position behind Vir on Bumpy.
“I’ve heard so much about the downfall of Hiranya,” Vir said, “But no one’s ever said why.”
“That… is a complex matter, but fundamentally, Hiranya’s plight stems from its distance from the Ashen Realm.”
“Because crops don’t grow well, right?” Vir offered.
“Well, yes, but not exactly. Hiranya borders two of the most powerful nations in the Known World. The Altani and the Kin’jal Empire. Both could crush our country at any time, should they choose to.”
Rayali scowled. “Those Kin’jals very well might.”
“Indeed,” Param replied. “As such, Hiranya requires protection. Our armies cannot hope to defeat the Kin’jal Balarian army.”
“The Altani protect us then?” Vir asked.
“Correct. They have pledged aid to Hiranya should we be attacked. The cost, however, is steep. Every promising mejai is rounded up and sent to the Altani for training at a young age.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Vir asked. If anything, training their mejai would help Hiranya.
“If those mejai ever returned to Hiranya, yes. While nothing stops them, it is no secret that life is far better in the Altani. Doubly true for mejai. They live better than King Rayid over there! Who would ever want to come back after having tasted such sweet fruit?”
So that’s why Apramor didn’t want Maiya to become a mejai. She’d go off to the Altani, never to return. She would have thrived with the Altani. Vir couldn’t fault Apramor for wanting to protect his daughter, but the man deprived her of attaining her full potential. It felt wrong to Vir. And knowing her, she’d never have abandoned her parents like that.
“Hiranya has promised land, wealth, and power to strong mejai who choose to return, but alas, King Rayid’s policies have only had minor effect. And so, our country is bled dry of its most valuable asset—its people, leaving its back broken. With every year that passes, Hiranya grows weaker, while the Altani and the Kin’jals grow stronger.”
That was a pretty lousy situation, Vir recognized. If the king broke the contract, Kin’jal would invade. If he didn’t, Hiranya’s power slowly fell.
“What’s worse, immigration to the Altani is nearly impossible unless you have magical talent. In which case, their borders are wide open and citizenship guaranteed. Mejai from all over the realm flock to the Altani, forcing nations to fiercely guard their borders to prevent this kind of flight.”
“It’s even worse,” Rayali said quietly. “Hiranya is a poor country, and our domestic market is small. We export below average armor and weapons to the Altani for a pittance, undercutting Sai to the north. The Altani enchant this equipment and sell it back to Hiranya for a steep markup.”
“Why does Hiranya need magical equipment? Don’t they have that treaty with the Altani?” Vir asked.
“They couldn’t survive against armies without it,” Param replied. “Enchanted weapons and armor are incomparable to their mundane variants. In some situations, a single enchanted squad can take on an entire company of regular soldiers. The treaty with the Altani only protects Hiranya during a full invasion, after all. The Kin’jals wage countless skirmishes against us at all times.”
It was like the country was being squeezed dry. Vir wondered what he’d find at the capital—Param and Rayali painted quite a grim picture.
For hours, they chatted and gossiped, and Vir learned that once Param got started, he never shut his mouth. Rayali kept flashing Vir apologetic glances.
He sympathized with the poor woman. He only had to deal with Param for a day and a half. She had to put up with him forever. Her patience must have been saintly. That said, he did pick up some useful information about the city and its history.
The caravan stopped a full two hours before sunset at a spot on the rolling plains. Unlike Riyan’s desert, this area was flat and covered with hard, cracked clay, through which bushes and cacti crept. In the distance, the rocky crags of the Dahan Steppe were just barely visible. They’d ascend the steppe tomorrow, before making Daha around midday.
Vir felt it wasteful to stop so early, until he saw just how much of a production it was to set up camp for a dozen people. Tent sites had to be scouted, cleared, and leveled to make way for the two large tents. Food had to be prepared, and fires made. The men erected the tents while the women began food preparation, and the children handled everything in between. Not one person idled around, and that included Vir.
While he didn’t have a tent to pitch, he still needed to secure his own site. After chatting with Param and Rayali for the better part of the day, he knew they harbored no ill intent, but Vir wasn’t one to take chances.
He cleared a spot of thorny weeds twenty paces away and laid out his blanket. Too tired to start a fire, he opted to dine on nuts and dried berries.
At least, until Param called him over to the group’s camp and invited him to dine with him.
He’d have been a fool to refuse. While they’d technically left the desert, the temperature swings were still quite extreme, and Vir was glad for the fire.
Param’s entire family huddled around it, passing bowls of various dishes around, sharing them communally.
Vir hesitated until Param handed him a bowl full of skewered veggies, then shrugged and slipped some onto his plate. The vegetables were complimented by a large helping of spiced brown rice and pickled, salted lemons. Though the flavors differed greatly from what Maiya usually cooked up, Vir relished the food. Even with all the kids staring at him the entire time.
At least they don’t run away when I wave to them anymore. Progress, I guess?
Maiya would no doubt have been swarmed by them. She was popular no matter where she went.