Chapter Text
Kian had been living with his new family for over a year now, and yet he felt like it would be taken away at any moment. Father was kind, but when he tried to stop Kian from keeping extra food in his room, it still felt like being scolded.
There were good things though. He had two brothers now, and he still got to see his friends outside the palace, Davrin and the others. He brought them food a lot. He was also learning how to read and write, but he loved the sword fighting most of all. His tutor said he was talented, and he'd almost beaten Garsiv once.
He was outside practicing on his own near where the soldiers were training. He couldn't tell if they were smiling because they thought he was silly, or if he should believe Tus that they just thought he was sweet and would be a great warrior someday. He ignored them either way.
He saw the soldiers all stop and bow. Father must be coming. Kian jogged over until he could see Father and the group of people with him. He waved, and Kian waved back. They all looked important, though, and Kian was not allowed to interrupt important people, so he went back to his training.
He did all the forms he could remember, being slow like the tutor said. He did the fancy turn move he learned this week, and there was a girl watching him. She looked like she was his age.
When she saw she had his attention, she asked, "What are you doing?"
That was a stupid question. "I'm training. Like the soldiers."
"But you're too young to fight."
"Well sure, but I know if I train, I'll be the best soldier when I'm older."
She nodded but didn't say more. She was looking at the sword.
"Do you want to learn? I know a lot of moves."
She nodded more and came over to him. He showed her how to grip the handle the right way and moved her arms to the right place.
"Why is the sword so heavy?" she asked.
"Because it's metal." He picked up a long stick he'd left here before and used it to show her how to do the easy moves. She looked really happy when she did them.
After a few moves he stood in front of her so she could try swinging against his stick. She did it a few times and then swung harder which made him drop the stick. She laughed at him, but he laughed too.
"You're pretty good! You could be a soldier if you want to."
"Why would I want to be a soldier? I just want to use a sword."
"But swords are for soldiers and fighters. What else would you do?" She shrugged.
"Your Highness! There you are!" Some of the people who had been walking with Father before were hurrying back towards them. "What are you holding?!"
The lady who was speaking pulled the sword away from the girl and dropped it on the ground. Kian picked it up with a scowl but said nothing.
"Come along now, Princess, you cannot wander off alone."
She looked back at Kian and the sword sadly as she was dragged away. None of the people paid any attention to him which was fine. He wouldn't know what to do if they started asking him things, so he preferred this, but he would like the princess to practice fighting if she wanted to.
He watched them all disappear into the palace. He didn't know why, but he no longer wanted to practice today. He threw the stick into a corner and took his sword back to the armory to clean it like he'd been taught.
Kian paused in sharpening his blade. That was a strange thing to remember now. He wondered whether that princess had ever gotten real lessons.
He raised his head to look over the landscape and into the city of Alamut. Somewhere he'd yet to visit, but that would have to wait. They were pushing through to subdue their Father's enemy, Kosh. Sacred cities had to wait.
"Kian!" Davrin, coming either to check on him or tell him he was forgetting something.
"Davrin," he greeted. He stowed his whetstone and stood.
"Your brother has called the war council. You're needed."
"War council? That's not good." They were still a few days ride from Kushkan. Kian looked back at Alamut, uneasy.
"You're telling me. That's why you need to get in there and tell them what a bad idea this is." Not for the first time, Kian thought Davrin would've made the better prince of the two of them. He clapped Davrin on the shoulder once as he headed off to his brother's tent.
He entered to see Nizam speaking quietly to Tus, and Garsiv in a chair fiddling with his knife. They all turned to Kian when he entered.
"Kian," said Tus, coming over to place a hand on his shoulder briefly. "Glad you could join us. I'm afraid we may have urgent business in Alamut."
"Business?" asked Kian. He moved further into the tent and sat in a chair. "Alamut is a sacred city. Entering in any way uninvited is akin to declaring war."
Tus waved a hand. "Yes, yes. Not business as you say. But our uncle has something to show us." A guard moved from the door at Nizam's wave and pulled a pin on a crate, allowing various weapons to spill out onto the ground.
"Our finest spy intercepted a caravan leaving Alamut," said Nizam. He picked up one of the blades to show them. "Swords. Of the best workmanship." Another guard handed Garsiv an arrow which he examined. "Steel tipped arrows. And," Nizam pulled out a rolled parchment, "a promise of payment from the Warlord Kosh to Alamut."
Tus took the parchment from Nizam and handed it to Kian so he could examine it himself. "They're selling weapons to our enemies, Kian."
"Arrows such as this," said Garsiv, "slew many of my men in Kushkan. Blood will run in Alamut's streets for this."
"Or our soldiers will fall before its walls," Kian frowned; this didn't feel right. "This is certainly… a problem, but is this the only thing we've found so far?"
"Is our enemy being armed with the finest steel not proof enough for you, my nephew?" asked Nizam.
It was all certainly damning, but... "Even still, we cannot openly declare war. Our orders were to subdue Kushkan, not to attack Alamut. We should wait for Father, show him all this before entering Alamut." Tus gave a conciliatory nod.
Garsiv spit out a seed from the fruit he'd started eating. "Tus is in charge while Father is at the temple. We cannot wait for our enemies to gather in one place. We should attack."
"Is that your answer for everything?" Kian stood, not to be threatening, but because Garsiv always wanted to confront everything head on. Kian wasn't in the mood to meet him there, but he wouldn't be cowed.
True to form, Garsiv stood and pushed into Kian's space. "Persia is defended by us. We keep Persia safe. Safety demands we fight to protect it."
Kian loved his brother, but he didn't like him very much. "As strong as the evidence our uncle has brought us is, is it enough?"
"How long would you have us wait? Until Kosh arrives to reinforce Alamut?"
"Peace, my brothers!" Tus came between them. He placed a hand on each of their shoulders and gently pulled them apart. He continued to push on Garsiv until he went back to his chair, then he pulled Kian away to speak to him quietly. "Say your piece, Kian."
Kian crossed his arms and frowned. "I don't have anything. I just… This feels wrong, Tus. Secret forges in a sacred city? Are you sure we need to attack?"
Tus searched his face. "I trust our uncle and his spies. If he says Alamut is our enemy, then Alamut is our enemy. Your words have wisdom, brother, but you have a soft heart."
"Words," said Nizam, lifting the blade he still held, "will not stop our enemies, once they're armed with Alamutian blades."
Tus became more troubled as he considered all sides. He met each of their eyes in turn, and then looked back to their uncle. He was no longer in the habit of chewing his lip, but Kian saw the same turbulence in his eyes that used to call for it. "We attack at dawn."
Garsiv smirked at Kian, always ready for a fight, and Kian tensed. This wasn't enough for him to believe in Alamut's treachery, but Tus had made his decision. If they were going to attack, they needed to be smart about it. "If that's your decision, then let me and my men go in first."
Garsiv laughed sharply, and Kian exchanged a look with Tus, who said, "Thoughts to share, Garsiv?"
"I ride at the head of the Persian army. The honor of first blood should be mine."
Garsiv only knew how to plow through. He'd get all of their soldiers killed before the gate had even cracked. "Alamut is a city built to withstand siege. Garsiv's strategies are sound, but not for this."
"And you have no experience!" Garsiv stood and tossed his fruit to the side angrily.
Tus put out a placating hand. "Garsiv is not wrong, Kian. You have yet to lead any battles."
"How can I gain experience when you never let me lead? One of these days you're going to have to trust me."
"We do." Tus placed his hands on Kian's jaw. "We trust you. You are our brother. But you are not yet certain enough of yourself to lead an army. You and your men will remain in my regiment. Garsiv's cavalry will lead the way." Tus let him go and went back to sit in his chair. He hid some of his uncertainty with a smile. "Ever eager as both of you are, I have something that might make a fine reward. It is said the princess of Alamut is a beauty without equal. We'll march into her palace and see for ourselves."
The feeling of unease that began with the calling of the war council continued to grow. Weapons, forges, siege against a city that hadn't fallen in hundreds of years, all of it simmered under Kian's skin. He took his leave and went back to find Davrin. They were not going to lose more lives than they had to, including those within Alamut. He needed to prevent a massacre.