The Sultan of Darshuun (The Jinni and the Isekai, #4)

By Lawrence Caldwell

With the help of Ali and Debaku, Shiro has found the top-tier adventurer, Razul in the dungeon of Azurbadan. Now with the strength to fight Darius and his Scorpion Guard, it is time for the group to come up with a plan to get into the Sultan’s Palace to find the lamp and rescue Jessamine.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lawrence Caldwell
• Release date: Mar 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9780463262337

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—Bashur and Bashur…

Well, Ali said with a chuckle. We have our man.

"Kami-sama…" Shiro breathed.

He watched Razul moved the fish-fin blade about in the light. It sparkled iridescently as he smiled with a face full of greedy teeth.

Master Bashur! one of the other men said.

Ali and Razul turned as one.

Yes?

Yes?

They looked at one another and Shiro’s eyes, for a moment, widened, then narrowed to slits.

We have all the jewels!

Nani desuka?

Excellent! Razul said. The sword and the jewel will stay with me. You two—he waved a dismissive hand at them—may have those jewels.

The two men’s eyes widened. Thank you, Master Bashur!

Ali turned to Shiro and chuckled lightly with a shrug.

What is this, Ali?

Razul turned back to them as Ali began to speak. Well, Ali said, "he may be my brother—but just barely. You see—"

Ali! Are you telling me we came all the way out here to Azurbadan to save your brother?

Save me? Razul asked. Ha! Is that why you came, little Ali?

No, Ali said irritatedly to Razul. Then to Shiro he added, That is not why we came. Shiro, you must believe me. I didn’t bring us here so I could save my brother at the expense of finding valuable members to add to our party.

Oh, I see, Razul said. "So that is why you have come. Because you need me. Of course. All right, little brother. Tell me what it is you need, hmm?"

Not now, Ali said. We should leave this place.

Ah, Razul said. Agreed! He turned to his men. Stop lingering you fools and come!

They obeyed and scampered close to their leader. They muttered what sounded to Shiro like short prayers as they passed the fallen forms of the other men that had adventured with them into Azurbadan.

Razul wasted no time, and stalked past Shiro and Ali and out through the drop gate that Debaku, the tall Mar’a Thulian who had saved Shiro, was still holding open.

This dungeon had captured Razul and his party, many of his men being killed in the process. When Ali, who said Razul was a friend led them here, they had found the man and his party in dire need of rescuing.

Though Razul now seemed extremely cavalier about the whole thing.

Is he that powerful? Shiro wondered. Could he have escaped without our help?

He was taller than Ali and twice as handsome—and certainly twice the adventurer. He also had an overabundance of the Bashur personality Shiro was used to dealing with from Ali.

Despite all these things, he was clearly more of a rogue—more of a cutthroat, capable of dishonor. Shiro didn’t know whether he should be excited or angry.

As they all came out of the boss room, Debaku lowered the gate. Razul didn’t even look his way when he stepped through the chamber.

So this is your friend? Debaku asked, nudging his friend toward the man’s back as Ali looked at him.

Razul turned and looked at him for the first time. He made a face. Ah, a Mar’a Thulian. What are you doing here?

He’s with us! Ali said defensively.

Razul tossed the glowing orb he had ripped out of the aquatic dungeon boss into the air and caught it. So this is the kind of company you keep? To Shiro he said, And where are you from, strange man?

Far away from here, Shiro said. We can speak of it later.

Indeed! Razul exclaimed as he led the way out of the dungeon, his upper body completely bare and scattered with runic markings. As he walked, his shoulders swayed with excessive swagger.

Shiro almost rolled his eyes.

After a time they were able to come out of the dungeon where they found themselves in the outer cave. Razul stalked to a pile of crates Shiro hadn’t noticed on their way in.

Opening the lid, Razul found himself a thick leather coat lined with fluffy wool and put it on. Did you know, he said, that this wool is from the fabled sky sheep of this region?

It is very nice, Razul, Ali said. But we did not come here to chat. We have an important quest.

Oh? Razul asked lazily, then he got distracted. Akh! I don’t have a proper scabbard for this new sword.

Raz, Ali said. You will like this one. I promise. But we need you to come back to Darshuun with us before the passes are completely overrun.

That is right, Razul said. There is a war on. He laughed. I had almost forgotten. Gods, Darshuun doesn’t sound half bad right now. I am so tired of this cold!

So you will come?

I do not know, Ali. I hear you are rich now, though. Is it true?

Yes, Ali said, trailing his half-brother. Yes it is. You can come to my house.

Oh?

Shiro shared a glance with Debaku, who looked at him with a skeptical eye. Shiro shrugged. I do not know, he said quietly, if we have made good use of our time.

I am feeling the same way, Shiro.

Almost snarling, Shiro blurted at Razul’s back, Listen, you fool!

Razul turned slowly as Ali’s eyes connected with his, his glance that of a startled animal.

Yes? Razul asked.

We have a dangerous quest, Shiro said. The rewards will be great.

Looking at Shiro intently, Razul said nothing. Ali glanced between them, then shook his head at Shiro.

Suddenly Razul laughed heartily. Great rewards, you say?

Shiro nodded.

You are speaking my language, strange foreigner. Ali, can you vouch for this infidel?

Yes, Ali said. Shiro is my friend. We can trust him.

Ha! Razul scoffed. I can barely trust you, Ali. But if the rewards are indeed ‘great,’ then I will hear you out, Shiro. But let us be off. I have had enough of this accursed dungeon. Our animals are hidden in a cave nearby.

But the storm? Ali said.

It is no matter.

Razul spoke in a thick Abassir accent, much like Ali, and much like Ali, he was a handsome swashbuckling adventurer.

Except Razul came across to Shiro much more like an irresponsible prince.

Kami-sama, he thought. This better not have been a waste of our time…

Chapter Two—Blades of the Sultan

Darius strode across the polished titles in his red upturned shoes to put some distance between him and this vicious slaves trying to kill him.

They had come from the pits, the barbaric sport he invented and allowed to continue throughout his empire. This fighting sport kept the peoples of the empire distracted.

But more importantly, it was a way to train swordsman and other fighters for his practice sessions, which always ended in death.

Some of these slaves were inducted into the Scorpion Guard to become part of his Blades—his elite group of bodyguards.

He twirled across the floor, almost toying with these three slaves as they lunged and slashed at him with their curved scimitars.

Most of these men had been allowed the privilege of watching their families be torn to pieces by lions.

They wanted nothing more than to see Darius bleed out on the tiles. Concern for their own lives was a distant memory, and now they fought the sultan with vigor and vengeance—fully expecting that their own lives would be over, regardless of the outcome of this fight.

They lived for a chance to slay Darius.

And now they got it.

Snarling, he almost laughed as he reversed his retreat, the blades in his hands slashing deadly arcs through the air as he came into the physical space of one fighter who had strayed from his fellows too far.

As he cut the slave down, hot blood spurted into his face and over the tiles, making them slick.

It mattered not.

Darius, instead of slipping though the tiles, he jumped, summersaulted though the air and landed behind the other two vengeful warriors and cut them down in short order.

As they died, clutching their wounds and gurgling blood in their throats, Darius made a distasteful sound that echoed through the chamber.

The warm breeze blew through the open space as the diaphanous curtains fluttered about in the late noon sunlight.

This is too easy! he complained. I need more of a challenge. I need to be ready when Shiro and his friends come to assassinate me.

My lord sultan, Hahkari, his head vizier said. These… adventurers. They pose you no threat.

I must be prepared! Darius snarled.

Mushkah, his top general and Kahnassi, the court battle mage, said nothing.

But my lord, Hahkari said. You have the Scorpion Guard here in the palace! Not to mention a powerful battle mage at your beck and call—including those Hajja sorcerers.

Them? Darius said. "I cannot rely on them, he said with a wave of his hand. I am holding those sorcerers here against their will. If they could, they would probably kill me in my sleep. I should have them all executed."

Hahkari’s eyes widened. In his silk pantaloons and his white shoes and jacket, he almost glimmered in the sunlight that came into the chamber. They are a powerful resource, my lord—even if they do not always comply with the same gusto as your subjects.

I only keep them in the palace so that if Shiro and his friends come to kill me—mayhaps they run into the sorcerers and are killed themselves. They have powerful magicks.

Indeed, a wise plan, my lord, Hahkari said as he dry washed his hands obsequiously. May I… suggest another… ploy?

Ploy? Ploy?! Darius shot back, spreading his arms, the blood dripping off his blades scattering about the floors in heavy droplets. Realizing this, he tossed the blades aside. Kalina! he screamed, his voice echoing through the chamber.

The pathetic head servant came running, her sandals slapping against the tiles. When she saw the bodies, she came up short and covered her mouth, either through shock or attempting not to wretch, Darius didn’t know.

Clean this up! he said, gesturing to the dead bodies.

She nodded vigorously, turned and left the chamber.

Then to Hahkari, he said, I am the sultan of the Abassir Empire. I do not need ‘ploys.’

Perhaps a poor choice of words, my sultan. What I meant to say, was indeed a trap.

A trap? he asked, feeling intrigued.

Yes, Hahkari said with a smile. Throw a grand ball. Make it looks as if the palace is insecure. Lure them in. He smiled like a spider.

Narrowing his eyes, Darius too began to grin maliciously. You have a devious mind, my vizier. Just like a spider.

He bowed. Battles are not only won with a solid sword arm, my lord sultan.

Indeed, Darius said. But we do not know when Shiro will attempt to take back Jessamine.

Ah, but I have this worked out as well, Hahkari said as he pointed to his temple. Though the parties will be ostensibly for the empire’s recent victories, no doubt—

Darius cut him off. Shiro will know their other purpose.

Other purpose?

He was thinking out loud, changing the plan as he went.

Yes. I throw the parties to announce the possession of my jinni—of her return! Hahkari looked confused for a moment—as if Darius was changing his plans and that he was being wronged somehow. But the sultan didn’t care. It will incense him into attacking me sooner. And then I will crush him.

Nodding the grand vizier smiled. It is perfect.

Mushkah! Darius barked.

His general stepped forward. What is your wish?

Secure the palace, Darius said with a grin. But do not secure it too well. Shiro needs a way to slip inside—otherwise we will never find him until he chooses to find me.

Mushkah nodded. I will do as you bid me, my sultan.

And you, Kahnassi, will be in charge of my personal guard. I will give you command of my Blades to do with as you wish.

The court battle mage, a tall man with white skin—the product of an ex-slave with blue eyes no doubt, narrows his eyes and nodded silently as he put his fist to his chest.

The court mage, Kahnassi was completely loyal—had been since his early years. Otherwise Darius would not allow him to be so close.

When Shiro comes, he will think to sneak into my palace and take Jessamine back.

And to kill me.

But it is he who will meet the edge of my blades.

Darius grinned like a madman, his eyes flicking to the pedestal where the lamp sat. It was rarely out of his sight—and would never be stolen from him again.

Chapter Three—Homecoming

They had come up short across the street from Ali’s manor. Tired from travelling, Shiro just wanted a meal, a hot bath and a good night’s sleep.

But they had been wary when travelling back into Darshuun.

We must be careful, Ali had said. I never gave them my true name, but still they may know who I am.

Shiro had nodded his ascent.

Razul was quite cavalier about their return, but he did not know about the events preceding their departure. At least not the details of which.

The sun was setting, casting hot bars of bright orange clouds across the skies and a dark purple began to seep in like dye spreading through water.

They crossed the busy streets together. As a group of four men, it wasn’t out of place to be as they were, with their faces covered.

All right, Ali said as they approached the door in the alleyway. We must check the house. Be ready.

Shiro nodded. He thought it wise that Ali had chosen the side door inside the alley. They were less conspicuous and if things went poorly, they could climb the vines running up the sides of the buildings and get to the first story roofs in the area for a quick escape.

Ali touched the hilt of his scimitar and tried for the door handle. Of course, it was locked. Turning, he said as much. Shiro, do you know how to pick a lock?

I do, Razul said.

Ali frowned. Truly?

Indeed, Razul said. Watch!

He lunged at the door, connecting his heel with the part near the handle. There was a loud crack and Ali back-stepped.

What are you doing?!

I’m picking your lock! Razul said, then kicked the door again. It broke in half and fell inward, revealing the entry corridor.

You said you could pick the lock! Ali yelled as he gestured to the door. You did not say you would start smashing my door!

You’re rich, Razul said in way of explanation. You can buy another door. Then he stepped over the broken wood and went inside.

Debaku went next, turned and shrugged at Ali. You can buy a new door.

Gods, Ali muttered. I cannot believe this. What part of careful do you not understand?

He glanced at Shiro, but he didn’t know what to say. A broken door was better than being stuck outside trying to figure out a way inside.

Shrugging, Shiro stared at his friend, who shook his head and followed Debaku and Razul into the manor.

Someone screamed—a woman.

A horrible thrill seemed to shoot through Ali, because he jumped. Oh no! He ran forward.

Shiro passed Debaku as he trailed Ali into the house. But it was only Kuafa, screaming in fright at the unknown face of Razul.

Nonono! Ali said, raising his hands. This is Razul! He is a guest!

Aaaahhh! Kuafa screamed and recoiled. Do not come any closer, you devils!

Oh! Ali shouted and removed his face covering. Kuafa! It is me! It is Ali!

She froze, eyes wide. Master Ali?

Yes!

Then her face went from fear and shock to stupid, before a huge smile came out. Master Ali! You have returned!

Master? Juri asked as she entered the room, a knife still in her hand. She had been the mistress of the house staff as far as Shiro knew.

Yes, yes, Ali said. I am back. You can all settle down, he said. Then he turned to Razul. Lower your face covering, you fool.

With a relaxed gesture, Razul did as Ali bid, but he ignored the servants and Ali’s’ homecoming and walked past the two women and went into the kitchens.

Then someone started stamping down the steps. They were heavy footsteps. Not that of the servants.

Shiro’s heart jumped in his chest and his hand instinctually went to his sword. A raspy scream followed as a cat eye lunged into the main corridor with his sword out.

Revealing his blade completely, Shiro and Debaku both moved as the cat eye lifted his arm to slash at them, but