My grandfather, who predicted this entire slide into universal oblivion, was a man who never failed to face up to his responsibilities and to accept the realities of the world. While my father was much the same, it is to my rather visionary grandfather that I owe my own personality and system of values.
One of the things my grandfather held as an article of faith was that there is no such thing as coincidence. Just the unfolding of what was meant to be. Another was that no man can run away from the world. From what he told me, when the Jade Empire’s forage parties started to come, my father expressed his intention to simply move the people of Initpur out of their reach. In retrospect, now that I think on it, perhaps there is more of my father in me than I realised.
Regardless, my grandfather made my father promise to do no such thing, but to stay and face his fate, which of course he did. A man cannot run from fate, the old man had said. Fate simply follows him. You can attempt to shut yourself away from the world as much as you wish, but the world will find you.
I had thought that of all places, the dead lands were the one place that the world would not find me. But my grandfather was, as always, correct. Even here, the world would not leave me alone, and though what was to happen brought me fear and apprehension, it brought me joy from the most unexpected sources.
‘The river crossing… is in use.’
The watchman was breathing in gasps, having ridden from his post at breakneck pace. Some – the ever-negative Parmesh preeminent among them – had seen no need in this place to set guards, given the fact that no one came here willingly and that any who might would be unarmed or dead before they reached the monastery. Aram had disagreed and selfishly used the persuasive power of Mani and Bajaan to override the dissenters. Even in these dead lands, he would have pickets. Aram was not a military man, but in his new role as not ruler but leader, he was beginning to see the value of thinking like one. The watchmen had thus been set on every path that led from the monastery at a distance of three miles, and they changed shift every three hours to remain fresh and alert.
Over the weeks they had been here, no one had reported an enemy presence. Oh, there had been plenty of panicked warnings, but they had, each and every one, been born of nerves and the constant feeling of being watched and threatened in these lands. Each time they had been more nervous of men jumping at shadows or perceived phantoms. That feeling was absent at the monastery, of course, but a few miles out, where the pickets sat alone in the wilds, it was strong and preyed on the mind of even the strongest-willed man.
They had been good weeks at the monastery, though. The whole complex had been, and still was, a mass of construction and change. New bunkhouses continued to go up to accommodate those who had spent the intervening time living on the floors of the temple or the workshops or barns. The whole place was rapidly coming to order. The surfaces had been cleaned, oil applied to machinery, grass trimmed, beds weeded and so on. Gradually the place was beginning to resemble a proper community. One of the first tasks had been the overdue harvest, and now the granaries and storehouses were crammed full of grain, vegetables and fruit, and the beasts in the fields had once more reached an acceptable stage of domestication.
Aram had been content for the first time since they had left Initpur. They were not just surviving as a community, they were beginning to thrive. And for whatever reason – perhaps that, because of the monks, this place was favoured by protective gods – there was no threat hovering in the air. The place felt peaceful. Moreover, in the weeks they had been here there had been no sign of other trespassers. The only other souls who had passed through the gates of the monastery had been those strays and displaced by the war who had been found by men sent by Aram. They came and marvelled at what they saw, unexpected in this haunted land.
So new people came and added their muscle to the work and their enthusiasm to the community.
It had all been perfect. Too perfect. Given his grandfather’s teachings, Aram should have been expecting the worst.
He frowned at the watchman. ‘This is not some trick of the mind?’
‘No. Men. A few of them too.’
‘Could they be refugees who have heard of our settlement?’
The picket shook his head. No, Aram agreed. The only people who had heard of this place were those who had been brought here deliberately by his guides.
‘No. They are Jade Empire men.’
Aram felt his blood chill. ‘You are sure?’
‘Yes. And they seem to be important ones too. Not just some stray scout party. They wear impressive red uniforms and two of them are done up like senior officers. They all had good horses too. They were starting to use the crossing already when I left.’
Aram nodded. ‘It will take them some time to cross, especially with their beasts. How many?’
‘Perhaps twenty or more.’
Aram hardened his heart and steeled himself. The last thing he wanted was a fight, but there were thousands of refugees here. They had no reason to fear a score of men, no matter how dangerous they might be. They would be unarmed, else they would not have got this far. And had not the monks of this place, through their deserted training hall, inadvertently shown Aram that there was still a way to fight without weapons, even here, where the spirits were ascendant?
‘Sound the assembly bell and have the gates closed once everyone is inside,’ he shouted to the man by the gate. Moments later, the great bronze bell near the main temple entrance was clanging repeatedly.
Out across the fields, farmers, woodsmen and workers of all types abandoned their tasks and hurried back to the monastery at the urgent sound. Aram waited in tense silence as the population of the settlement returned, passing through the gate and seeking the assigned places of safety they had prepared for such an eventuality. Only those capable of throwing a punch and willing to stand and fight would remain out in the open with him, the rest hiding inside, away from potential danger.
Then, in the second heart-stopping moment in one morning, Aram spotted the rider charging towards the monastery from the north-west – the very road along which they had first come – shouting at the scurrying workers to get out of the way.
Aram closed his eyes for a moment. You can find the most obscure and overlooked place in existence and conceal yourself, but the world will always find you, Aram…
He waited as the rider approached the gate and slipped from the horse’s back, leading it the last few paces towards him.
‘Trouble?’
‘Riders, sir. Still a few miles out to the north. They’re moving slowly and carefully, but they’ll be here soon enough.’
‘How many?’
‘Twenty or thirty.’
Aram nodded. Western men, almost certainly, coming from that direction. And it was hardly worth bothering to enquire as to whether they were refugees. But the odd synchronicity of weeks of peace and then an incursion from both sides simultaneously? Like his grandfather before him, Aram did not believe in coincidence. Coincidence was a fool’s attempt to explain away fate.
‘What do we do?’
Aram turned to find Mani behind him, and Bajaan hurrying over to join them. Blessedly, of Parmesh there was as yet no sign, though he would be here soon enough, arguing.
‘Do? We do nothing. We shut the gate and talk. Even if both of the new arrivals decided to assail us, they would number fewer than fifty to our thousands. Attack is not within their capability. They could not be that foolish. Moreover, timing suggests that this is some mutual design of theirs, independent of our presence.’
Mani nodded. Behind them, several hundred muscular men with grim faces were gathering in the open space inside the gate, preparing to defend the colony should they be required.
In half an hour all was ready. Every full civilian was inside, lurking in the relative safety of the buildings. Every man assigned to defend the place was gathered in the open. Aram and his close companions – soon including Parmesh – were at the closed gate, standing on a raised platform inside the wall that they had constructed for observation rather than defence.
The better part of an hour passed before the first figures emerged from the jungle at the edge of the fields to the north-west. For some time, the refugees watched as the small column of horsemen, resplendent in blue and white tunics and gleaming, silvery armour, rode along the path through the monastery’s territory, making for the gate. There were, at a quick count, twenty-seven of them including the two men in what appeared to be officer’s garb, cloaks of gleaming white rippling behind them.
‘Be ready,’ he said to Mani. ‘But no one moves unless the soldiers do so first. I will not be the man to start a fight here, when I suspect that is not the reason for their presence.’
He watched the men approach, and it was only when they were less than thirty paces from the gate and slowing down that he realised he recognised one of them. The stocky man with the neat, almost severe hair in the senior officer’s uniform was the general to whom he had spoken at Jalnapur on their way south. That realisation went some way to calming his jangling nerves. He remembered the general as an urbane, even friendly character, who had seemed sympathetic to the plight of the Inda.
The horsemen reined in and the two officers – the other, surprisingly, being a young Inda-born fellow – came to the fore, their arms raised as if to demonstrate that they were not armed. As his eyes strayed across the second officer, something sang a strange song in his blood and, once again, he recalled his father’s contempt for the concept of coincidence.
‘You have come a long way,’ the general said with a smile.
‘I am surprised that you remember me,’ Aram replied, genuinely so.
‘These lands, Dev here tells me, are forbidden to the living, and yet a force of several hundred seem to wait at your command. You have to be the same rajah who passed by Jalnapur with his column of refugees.’
Aram did not answer. His eyes were scrutinising the other figure. He was Inda. Of about the right age. Of course, Dev was hardly an uncommon name among the people, but Aram did not believe in coincidence. Fate ruled all men and had brought the world once more to his door for a reason.
His heart hammering in his chest, unable to tear his eyes from the young officer, Aram coughed and attempted to clear a suddenly constricted throat.
‘You are not here for us, General, and those who you expect are, I believe, less than a mile away.’
‘You are well informed.’
‘I keep my eyes open, as does anyone who hopes to see a new dawn these days. But fate is a curious thing,’ Aram said, his skin prickling. ‘Your aide, there. What would you say were I to mention Initpur?’
The adjutant, who had been perusing the walls of the monastery with a practised military eye, suddenly snapped his head round to the gate, brow furrowed.
‘I…’ the young man’s eyes widened. ‘Father?’
Now it was General Cinna’s turn to look surprised. ‘Dev?’
‘That…’ the young man’s eyes were drinking in every detail of the figure at the gate and Aram felt his spirit soar. It was his son. He had changed in over a decade, but then so had Aram, and wondered how he must look to his estranged son. He had grown older and greyer, naturally, but it was more than that. Gone were the trappings of a rajah, even a poor one. Gone was the veneer of civilisation. Here was a man of the people. A labourer, but still one used to command, given how the others inside the wall looked to him. Dev of Initpur had quit his home long ago, but Dev’s expression left Aram in no doubt that it was he who stood in front of him.
‘He is my father,’ Dev said in a hoarse tone. ‘The rajah of Initpur, far to the north, in the lower mountains east of the great river. Father, this is General Cinna.’
‘We’ve met,’ Cinna cut in. ‘I couldn’t recall the name, but your father was leading his people south some months back. Many thousands of them. I hope you have not suffered losses, Rajah?’
Aram shook his head. ‘Our people are inside. They do not trust outsiders – especially invaders. And I am no longer a rajah.’
‘Evidence suggests otherwise,’ Cinna replied with an odd smile. ‘You can relinquish any crown you like, Aram of Initpur, but you have simply exchanged your beleaguered northern kingdom for a haunted southern one.’
‘Father, how did you come to be here?’ Dev asked. His voice cracked with suppressed emotion, and Aram suspected that he himself sounded remarkably similar.
‘Seeking the only place the Inda could be saved from the war, my son. I left the north with our people when Initpur fell to the Jade Empire, but the population here is formed of peoples from all over the western Inda Diamond. I am pleased to see that your sojourn in the west has not been wasted. I…’
Aram’s voice faltered. Emotion was beginning to overcome him.
‘We are not here to impact upon your presence, Aram of Initpur,’ the general said loudly. ‘I give my oath that no harm will befall you or yours at the hands of my men. We are here in this place to seek a parley with the commander of the Jade Empire’s forces. It will be he who you have seen less than a mile from here.’
‘The Jade Empire’s general,’ Bajaan said quietly, close by. He leaned towards Aram and spoke in low, whispered tones, inaudible to those outside the gate. ‘You realise that we have both the senior commanders of our enemies meeting outside this very gate. We could end the invasion in a heartbeat with just two deaths.’
Aram’s head snapped round to his friend, eyes wide. ‘No. You cannot suggest such a thing. Besides, that is not how the great empires work. These two men would simply be replaced, and I have an odd suspicion that that would not go well for anyone. Keep the men calm and under control. This, I think, could be the beginning of something important.’
‘You seek a treaty with your opponent?’ Aram said, framed as a question, though he was in no doubt.
‘We hover on the edge of a pit whose maw waits to consume the world,’ General Cinna replied with unexpected candour. ‘Only a fool would not seek to avoid such a thing.’
‘Then you are welcome into our monastery,’ Aram said suddenly, earning himself a worried glare from Bajaan, a concerned look from Mani, and downright hostility from Parmesh.
‘That is not a good idea,’ Bajaan said.
‘These men are seeking a peaceful solution. Is that not precisely what we have searched for? Should we not all foster such a notion?’ The questions were hammered home like nails of truth into the refugees behind him. He turned to the man on the far side of the platform. ‘Open the gate and let them in. Have the refectory cleared and have food and fruit juice brought in. It is time to do what we can to influence the world for a change, instead of the other way around.’
The waiting men in the open space began to pull back as the gate ponderously crawled open, making way for the new arrivals to enter. The general was first in, his manner friendly yet aloof. Dev came second, and his eyes never for a moment left the face of his father. The horsemen with them looked nervous and distinctly uncomfortable.
General Cinna turned to his men. ‘Dismount, find somewhere to rest and be calm and courteous to all. I will personally tear the tongue out of the first man to cause offence among these people.’ His threat delivered, the general himself slid from his horse and left his helmet hanging on a saddle horn, removing his gloves and walking in small circles to ease his muscles after the ride.
Aram approached slowly, tentatively.
‘Thank you for your invitation,’ Cinna said as he neared. ‘It is most welcome after a long ride. I hope to repay your hospitality well, though we have little with us at this time.’
But Aram was paying precious little attention to the general and gave him a passing nod of acknowledgement. His eyes were locked in reunion with those of his son, who had dismounted and removed his own gloves.
‘I…’ Aram faltered. ‘It would be unseemly to embrace an officer in front of his men.’
Cinna snorted with laughter. ‘However important Dev might be, they’re my men, not his.’
Dev shot the general an odd look, half-offended, half-grateful, then turned back to his father. ‘I always intended to come back. To visit. But that’s not how the empire works. Once you have a role to play you are always busy – always assigned. I have been all over the western world, but never once back home. I had…’ his voice cracked again. ‘I assumed you dead, Father. I mourned you quietly.’
‘The Inda do not die that easily,’ Aram replied. ‘And while it broke my heart when you left, fate has brought us together once more. It proves that I was right to do what I did, and that perhaps I was guided by the gods.’
Close by, General Cinna, who had been listening to the exchange, nodded seriously. ‘In the west we have similar notions of fate. My own father, who was a priest, urged me into the military. He believed I was destined to do something important, and saw the martial service as my path to that. Personally I am beginning to rethink the matter, since my career seems to have led me into a position where I am helping to destroy the world.’
‘Hence your meeting,’ Aram replied shrewdly.
Cinna nodded. ‘A meeting that will almost certainly see the emperor baying for my head, but men of conscience must do what they can, eh, Aram of Initpur? Dev?’ The general tapped his adjutant on the upper arm, and the young man turned in surprise. ‘I need your help, now more than ever, but what you have found here is more important than anything I can ever say to you. If you wish to remain with your father, I will have the records completed to give you a legitimate dismissal.’
Dev frowned at him, and turned that creased brow back and forth between father and commander. ‘No. I cannot. Perhaps when we have stopped the madness, General, but not until then.’ Turning back to his father apologetically, his voice trembled. ‘I am sorry, Father.’
Aram smiled. ‘Do not be. My son is a powerful man who is trying to save the world. What father could ask for more?’
They had reached the doorway now, and as they began to step inside, there was a call from the gate. More riders. Aram gestured for the man at the temple door to escort the general and Dev to the refectory and turned, hurrying back to the gate. His heart was pounding, and a strange sense of anticipation had settled upon him. Fate was at work here in spades. Fate had brought Dev to him and had reintroduced him to an imperial commander who had the good of the world at heart. There was so much fate at work here, in fact, that Aram could not fathom how to wrap his mind around it. It therefore came as little surprise when he ascended the gate platform and spied Jai closing on him. His eldest son, who had changed surprisingly little, was dressed in the uniform of a Jade Empire officer and riding beside another commander, followed by a small unit of impressive men in red and black with demonic face masks. The man beside Jai was tall and elegant – an impressive specimen.
And he was here to make peace. That much was clear. It was the whole reason for this meeting, and fate had decreed that such a meeting be held in this place, where Aram was privy to the matter. A frisson of energy ran across his skin. Fate was clearly all-encompassing.
‘General,’ he said loudly from his platform.
The small party of impressive soldiers and the two officers at their head reined in their horses before the open gate. The general turned a quizzical expression on Aram. ‘We are expected?’
‘General Cinna awaits you in the refectory,’ Aram replied without a trace of smugness. ‘As does your brother, Jai.’
The second man’s head shot round to face him, and his face underwent a variety of expressions before settling rather tentatively on disbelief.
‘Yes, Jai. Fate works in fascinating ways. It finds my sons coming back to me at a time of momentous change. Come. Your parley awaits, and I would speak with you once your duty is done.’
Aram motioned to the gate. It was odd, as though his mind had been programmed. As though he were simply speaking words that had been planted in his head. As he had looked down at Jai, impressive and resplendent in his uniform, he had not known what to say, and had expected to bluff and croak his way through. And yet he had dealt with the matter with impressive formality and detachment, as though fate could not risk letting him interfere and was speaking through him.
He watched the general and his eldest son pass through the gate as though the whole day were somehow happening to someone else and he just an observer.
‘I must apologise,’ the general said as he passed through the gate and dismounted. ‘I do not wish to impose upon your hospitality. You seem to have found a safe niche far from the war, and I can only express regret for bringing reminders of it to you. Rest assured that I will keep this location from the strategists in our camp.’
Aram nodded. He had no doubt at all that the man was speaking the absolute truth. This was fate at work. They were truly in the hands of the gods now.
‘Father…’
Aram turned to his son. His heart felt as though it might burst. If only his beloved wife had lived to see what their boys had made of themselves.
‘Jai, it seems that the gods have gathered us together for a purpose. There will be time for us to talk, but that is after your master meets with General Cinna. I have had food and drink prepared. Come, Maja over there will show you to our other guests.’
The general noted the small gathering of impressive, well-ordered imperial troops in one corner of the open space, where they were being supplied with cold drinks, and he motioned to his own guard. ‘Masks off. In fact, helmets off. Dismount and find somewhere to wait. There will be no offence caused to your opposite numbers over there, nor to the inhabitants of this place, or the wall of hooks will await you upon our return.’
Aram watched them go, escorted to the refectory by one of the women who arranged the food. He stood for a long moment after his eldest son had entered the building, the young man’s face craning to see his father until he was out of sight. For a time Aram waited, rooted to the spot as though moving might disturb the delicate fabric of this living tapestry. Finally, he took a deep breath and followed on, Mani, Bajaan and Parmesh at his heel, each wearing uncertain expressions.
He could hear the exchanges of formal greeting in the room before he arrived, each general introduced by a son of Aram’s, each given his formal title with any honours bestowed, yet neither, Aram noted, mentioning their emperors, which seemed curious. As he entered the refectory, he noted with a wry smile the various refugees gathered close to the door, their ears cocked, listening to the future of the world being decided within. Wearing an almost paternal smile, Aram waved them away and entered with his three-man entourage, two of Mani’s best pugilists taking up a position outside to prevent further curious eavesdroppers.
The two generals were seated opposite one another, with their adjutants beside them. Everyone’s expression was carefully neutral, though the astonishment was still visible in the faces of both younger men. Jai and Dev had clearly become reacquainted in the time Aram had waited outside. Maja and two of her helpers were still producing food and serving it to the four men, who politely accepted what they were given, but did not overindulge.
‘None of us want this war,’ Cinna said, opening their discussion with a flat statement that as far as Aram was concerned seemed to make rather a strong assumption, yet Jiang nodded his agreement.
‘It gains little of value for the Jade Empire, overcommits your own army, and is poison to the Inda,’ the eastern general said.
‘And yet daily we send many hundreds of young men to the next world in the name of a bridge neither of us wants,’ Cinna said in unhappy tones.
‘Though we are at something of an impasse,’ Jiang commented. ‘You are unable to withdraw and cede us the bridge, and I am unable to take my army back to our own borders.’
‘I presume the Jade Emperor is no more a man to change his mind than the blessed lunatic Bassianus?’
‘Precisely. My emperor, like yours, is divine. His word is higher than law. His decisions cannot be questioned. Were I to turn back east and lead my force across our border and out of Inda lands, the emperor would request my head upon receiving the news. And even then, the chances of me reaching said border with the army are infinitesimally small. My army was hand-picked by me, but inevitably there will be imperial spies among them, and probably assassins also. No one is entirely to be trusted in the Jade Empire – especially known renegades, and troublesome men like me. I would almost certainly be dead before I was out of sight of Jalnapur.’
‘I have a similar issue,’ Cinna sighed. ‘I have twice attempted to turn my emperor from this path. No man has argued with him thrice and lived. We are hopelessly and irrevocably committed, like yourselves. And Bassianus will similarly have men within my command, listening carefully, reporting and prepared to take action in his name.’
‘Yet something must be done,’ Jiang said, pausing to take a bite of a savoury cake proffered to him by Maja.
‘If I might impose?’ Aram said, slipping into a seat off to one side. Both men nodded as they nibbled on the food before them, and Aram tapped his chin. ‘It seems to me that the men leading the armies would rather not fight. If I know soldiers at all, then I think we can all assume that your men would rather not be fighting. The drain in resources from your homelands must be appalling, so your own people, east and west, would almost certainly rather you were not fighting. No court in the world ever speaks with one voice, so there will be men in the highest circles of power who would rather you were not fighting. And the Inda most certainly would rather you were not fighting. That leads to a rather stark conclusion. Your emperors are the only men who wish you to fight. No man, no matter how powerful or what authority he can claim, should be able to destroy a world against the will of his own people.’
‘You do not know Bassianus,’ Cinna replied darkly.
‘Or the Jade Emperor,’ Jiang added.
‘But I know that whatever they might claim, they are but mortal men. Wicked men should not be tolerated in positions of such power.’
There was an uncomfortable silence.
‘There have been attempts on the emperor’s life before,’ Cinna said finally. ‘They never end well. He is too closely protected.’
‘There are always plots against the Jade throne,’ Jiang said.
Aram shook his head. ‘But you are talking about the plots of power-hungry men or passionate individuals seeking to overthrow and replace a ruler. I am not talking about such a thing. I am talking about waking up the reason inside all men and gathering a whole empire against its master.’
Cinna frowned and waved a chicken leg absently at his opposite number. ‘He has a point. I do not know how things stand in the east, but the imperial court all hate and fear Bassianus. Perhaps not all, but certainly many of them. Perhaps there could be change if it were effected correctly. Dynasties have fallen before. Kiva Caerdin once deposed a mad emperor, and they say that history repeats itself.’
Jiang sucked on his teeth. ‘It is not so simple for the Jade throne. There is no court like you have in the west. Everything is hierarchical, but perhaps there is a way. I will have to think on the matter and see what I can come up with.’
‘But we are running out of time,’ Cinna said, frankly. This was clearly not something Dev had not been expecting his commander to say, as his worried face turned to Cinna, who waved him down. ‘Dev, it matters not if Jiang knows the truth. Perhaps it might even help us. General, the empire is in trouble. Bassianus has committed a huge force to help drive you from Jalnapur. They will arrive very soon, and once they do I will command the largest field army ever seen in the west. But in their absence, our borders will be pressured and will soon crumble. While I am facing you, our other neighbours will begin the process of devouring the empire.’
As Jiang’s brow rose in surprise, Cinna glanced at Dev, who nodded.
‘Also, we have become aware of something that concerns you equally. There is a new king in the northern mountains with a force of fanatics, praying to the sun as the only god, determined to bring their worship to the world. The more we weaken one another, the more we play into his hands.’
The Jade Empire’s general nodded slowly. ‘I had heard rumours of this Sizhad,’ he replied, ‘though we have less intelligence on him. Thank you. And for your candour. In return I must warn you that the Jade Emperor has also sent further forces west. Our own army stands to double in size, but the men coming with that force will intend to replace me, no matter what their initial orders were. I have been careful not to do anything foolhardy thus far, to preserve as many lives as possible. These men will have no such concern. If we are seriously looking at a way to remove the driving forces of this war, then my first concern will have to be dealing with my potential replacements. Given the size and loyalty of my army, they will not find me an easy proposition, mind.’
‘But you would be willing to consider the possibilities?’
Jiang nodded to his opposite number. ‘This insanity has gone on long enough. And if we are to move to end this, then we cannot lurk and skulk around as we do now. We must make a stand and be seen to be doing so for the correct reason. It was sensible to come here to meet, but if we are in agreement that we need to proceed in a uniform direction, then further discussions can now take place at Jalnapur.’
‘Agreed.’ Cinna smiled. ‘While our very presence has been a waking nightmare for the Inda, they are lucky, I suspect, that it was you and I who led these campaigns. And now we must do what we can to save them from our own. I shall return to my camp, identify those fanatically loyal to the divine lunatic and remove them before making an appeal to my officers. I shall then work up some plans with Dev here, to see what might be possible. It will take a week to travel north once more, but in a matter of days thereafter, I suggest we meet and consider the next stage.’
Jiang nodded. ‘I will perform a similar surgery on my own army. Jai here will liaise with…’ He smiled. ‘With his brother, I understand, to arrange a meeting in due course.’
Aram grinned and spread his arms wide. ‘No man should depart again upon the very day he arrived. Matters of such joyous import as this deserve to be marked as an occasion, and I will beg leave this evening to reacquaint myself with my boys. I shall have your soldiers brought in as well as the major representatives of our people. We shall dine upon the fruits gathered here.’
As the two general nodded, Aram once again marvelled at the power of fate.
The two most powerful generals in the world, the two long-lost sons of Aram, and their father, all in one deserted monastery in a forbidden land, where the future of the world was being decided.
Aram took a long drink of cold mango juice, and could not stop smiling.