Sultan's Legacy (The Jinni and the Isekai, #5)

By Lawrence Caldwell

The isekai Shiro and his jinni companion Jessamine must concern themselves with the war in the south—a war the Abassir Empire has been secretly losing. For Shiro, terrible events that may come to pass have in a way legitimized the previous sultan’s rule in some regards. Having killed Darius, mistake or no, Shiro and his friends now shoulder the burden and fate of a colossal empire.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lawrence Caldwell
• Release date: Mar 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005125424

Lawrence Caldwell

Lawrence Caldwell is believed by some to be a wandering samurai, or a vagrant, or possibly a ninja—though perhaps in his infinite mystery, he’s none of these things. Whichever the case, he wanders home as Odysseus did after the great Trojan War in some realm unbeknownst to our world. And—by direct theft of a quote from a certain dwarf named Varric Tethras—he "occasionally writes books."

Book preview

Chapter One—Zanjah Burning

The invaders left no stone unturned as they ravaged their way across Kalush, burning, killing and stealing.

Smoke rose far into the night sky as Zanjah burned.

Push! Push you worms! Ushtan screamed.

The pole bearers, thick with corded muscles in the shoulders and arms, did as they were commanded, grunting in unison. The sound was as if they made a battle cry, and perhaps in a way, they were. The river barge moved with increased speed as Shiro glanced across the river at the city, the screams of people in the streets and the cries of warriors on both sides heightening into a general uproar of battle.

The isekai wanted nothing more than to jump off the barge and charge headlong into the fray, to kill the invaders sacking the city. Not out of malice, but out of a need to help.

Soon, Shiro, Jessamine said from behind as she put her warm hand on his shoulder.

He turned slightly, his left hand on the hilt of his red-bladed scimitar. Her scimitar.

We’re almost there! Ushtan said. He was a tall Scorpion Guard with thick muscles, much like the shirtless rowers. In their war against the southern invaders from across the sea, they had been short of officers, and so Shiro had decided to promote him to Captain.

Shiro!

He turned at the sound of Ali calling across the water from the river barge behind them. Shiro moved across the deck on light feet, his sandals tapping against the boards of the deck with rowers on each side of him.

What is it? he called back.

Ali was wearing black pantaloons, sandals and a tunic with a leather vest containing small plates of silver armor. What is happening?

Shiro turned to Ushtan.

The Black Guard Captain nodded. Almost there, my lord. He turned and pointed over the heads of the kneeling blackguards. The river barge was packed with them, shoulder to shoulder. There must have been two hundred on their barge alone. Do you see that next tributary?

Mm, Shiro noised with a nod.

We go down that three-hundred paces then get off. The street should lead us directly where the grand vizier Jadu is being held captive.

Soon! Shiro called back. Be ready!

Ali waved him off and turned around to address his own men.

Shiro, Jessamine said. If we go now, we can beat the soldiers there.

Regarding the river and the smoke, and the people running through the streets, Shiro decided that that was not a bad idea. Let us wait until we reach the tributary, and then we will leave the barge.

Are you certain? Ushtan asked. He seemed taken aback. It could be dangerous, my lord.

Shiro nodded.

How is it that Jadu has not been taken away yet? Shiro asked. Why is he still inside the city?

Ushtan grunted. Reports from our night raiders have come to me revealing that the streets behind the satrap’s palace have been cut off by our forces. The enemy agents cannot escape until those men are dealt with, my lord.

So that was why rowers from the city kept making contact with the boat. Shiro knew they were runners, but he didn’t know they had been in contact with their elite night raiders."

Shiro was feeling impatient.

That can change on a whim.

We must hurry.

Ushtan turned to the poll bearers once more. Push, you feeble dogs, or I’ll have your livers for dinner!

They pushed and growled, their glistening muscles flexing with every movement of their ores. Jessamine sighed dramatically. "I have to say, Shiro, this is quite boring. I was hoping we would get to cut through hundreds of these foreigners to get to the palace."

He said nothing.

Jessamine was always like this. She wanted to enjoy herself, and now that she was mortal, that hadn’t changed anything.

After killing Darius, her bond with him was broken, but because she was the one to do it, that betrayed her pact with him, resulting in her loss of immortality, a gift she would have been able to give Shiro, but now could not.

He had never wanted to be immortal, so as far as he was concerned, it didn’t matter. He had asked Jessamine on occasion if her loss of immortality beset her with grievance.

I still do not know the answer to that.

She had only replied flippantly, With less time, one learns to value—to savor—that time, Shiro.

Ever the equivocating jinni.

But despite her loss of immortality, she was still a jinni and held all the other advantages of being such. Shiro’s bond with her had increased his magic tenfold—his sword skills as well.

We are here, Shiro.

Narrowing his eyes, he glanced across the smooth waters as they reflected orange and yellow light from the fires. The night was dark, but the skies blue, his ability to see by the stars in areas where there were no flames, easy.

The high buildings with their many awnings and verandas and domes spires, was a majestic sight. Where the city wasn’t burning, the dark silhouettes in the starlight painted an ominous picture of contrast between peacetime and war.

With a strong nod, Shiro said, Then let’s go!

He jumped off the barge and onto the quay, his body flying over the water ten paces where he landed almost soundlessly on the wooden boards of the docks.

Jessamine never jumped like that.

Instead she dematerialized in a plume of blue smoke and rematerialized in a whirl next to him.

Don’t lose the lamp, she said with a smirk.

He smiled. Never.

Shiro! Ali called.

Glancing back, he heard Jessamine sigh heavily as Ali waved his arms in confusion. "What are you doing?

Stick to the plan, he called back. I am going ahead.

His trustworthy friend and ally made a noise of frustration, waving a hand dismissively. Shiro barely paid him any mind.

Ali was a complainer by nature.

Well? Jessamine asked.

Shiro drew his scimitar—the one with the black-ivory hilt and the red metal. As Jessamine dematerialized again, Shiro ran between the structures in the dark alleyway far faster than that of a normal man.

He ran in search of danger.

In search of the grand vizier of Zanjah.

Chapter Two—Sand Snakes

Shiro ran across the rooftop, his sandals pattering furiously before he jumped over the alleyway and onto the wall of domed palace. As he got up, he glanced through the parapets at the gate further ahead.

Jessamine materialized beside him and leaned up against the parapet. "Not bad, Isekai."

Shiro glanced at her, her full lips and big brown eyes distracting him from his quest. They are trying to get through the gate.

She moved away from the wall. And so they hammer on that door, she said, her tone bored. But they will never get through. Not in time.

So negative.

She laughed, a musical sound, playful in its intent.

This is serious, he said.

Indeed.

You are mortal now and yet you still treat everything as a game.

She shrugged. Would you prefer a bit my nails and worried until my hair went grey, Shiro?

He looked at her askance. Sauntering over to him, she touched his bare shoulder with her finger, dragging it across his skin.

What is she doing?

Perhaps we should take a moment, Shiro.

Growling inside his throat, he said, I told you not to read my thoughts.

She laughed. But we are bonded.

Yes, and I still want my own mind to myself.

She sighed heavily. Very well, Shiro.

And we will not ‘take a moment,’ jinni! We have work to do. The satrap is about to be captured. We must rescue him at all cost.

Very well, she said, her form dematerializing in a puff or blue mist as she sauntered away from him.

Shiro glanced through the parapets once more. The walls had been utterly abandoned on this side of the palace to reinforce weaker areas—that much was certain. How the invaders managed to get in here and hold the satrap hostage, Shiro didn’t know. But as it stood now, they were defending the fortress against the satrap’s army.

Perhaps they had attacked too quickly. Now the enemy was hemmed in.

Even so, Shiro didn’t have enough men. The army outside was not under his command, and if he took the time to find their commander, tell him what was happening—by then it might be too late. The attackers might surely find a way to escape.

I need a better view of the situation.

He hopped up onto the wall and sprinted to the minaret where he tried the door. It didn’t move, so he kicked it in, the wooden boards shattering into splinters. Normally to knock down a solid wooden door with iron bracers would require a battering ram.

But with Jessamine’s powers strengthening him through their bond, Shiro was stronger and more powerful than he had ever been before.

He ran into the minaret and up the twirling stairs. The steps leveled out into a landing where murder holes could be used to loose arrows down on enemy attackers.

This minaret was abandoned right now and so Shiro took the stairs up to the next level, then the next, and continued until he came to the top. He was barely winded from the climb. The domed roof was supported by intricate pillars surrounded by ancient entablature.

The vast majority of architecture in the empire was not of Abassir origin, Shiro had learned, but actually belonged to a completely different civilization that worshiped entirely different gods.

Ashahnai, it was called. A powerful—more advanced kingdom in its golden age farther to the east.

But the empire—the Abassir caliphate—had conquered some of its lands long ago, annexing this part of its culture, most visibly the architecture, as its own.

Shiro glanced over the palace, at the walls and the minarets, at the golden dome of the main structure. The satrap was inside somewhere.

To the north—or rather the true south—the invaders marched onto the city. The city of Zanjah was still putting up a fight, but the main walls had been breached. Fires raged, smoke wafted into the night skies, blacking out most of the stars.

From the looks of it, the first part of the outer wall to fall had been the one on the river. It was utterly in ruin with two enemy ships just outside of reach of any siege within the city.

Quite a sight, Jessamine said as if she were perusing a particularly interesting bunch of rare flowers in some shop. I’ve seen similar such sights in my years, especially when Darius conquered the outlying lands around the empire. He more than doubled it in size, you know?

I did not know that, he said absently as he walked about the rail. He continued regarding the city as the attackers invading Zanjah fought within half a dozen districts. Some sections were untouched, while others were seeing furious fighting with the Kalushani army holding the advantage in some areas and the invaders in others.

Shiro moved to the other side to get a look at the river that travelled from the north to the south—the very same river that travelled through Darshuun where the enemy ships were.

It was a worrying sight.

If the invaders had a strong navy, they could sail up Urmia River, laying siege to every city and town along the way, sacking them for what supplies and gold they had to offer—until they finally reached the capital.

Darshuun is weak now…

The empire is in very real danger, he said.

I know, Jessamine said. "Perhaps we should let it burn, Shiro. Let’s go across the sea—to this other nation. Perhaps we will find something there that can reveal the nature of who isekaied you here?"

And let these people suffer and the hands of these conquerors?

Empires rise and fall.

He glanced down at the river, where the sloops were. Ali and his men had disembarked now with his Scorpion Guard—the enemy ships unconcerned. There were almost a thousand Scorpion Guards in total. Perhaps that’s why the enemy did not attack them from the water.

They will surround the palace, Shiro said.

And by then the satrap will have been moved by the enemy.

He made a sound of frustration. He needed to get in there, find the satrap and get him out before the invaders had time to find a way to do that on their own.

We will slip in like sand snakes. We are going.

I’ve been waiting for you to say so, she said with a smile.

"You are a war monger, aren’t you?"

With a shrug, she said, Perhaps. Then she ran, jumped over the