Episode Forty-Four: Wolves at Their Backs, the Pursuit of Stragglers
“In the Persian Market: The Roar of an Empire”
Episode Forty-Four: Wolves at Their Backs, the Pursuit of Stragglers
1. Sounds That Vanish into the Sand
The night desert is a place where sound goes to die.
Marching in darkness, even a campfire forbidden, Cyrus guarded the rear of the column, his senses fixed on the void behind them.
“…Lord Cyrus, the air has changed.”
Kabir whispered beside him. Inheriting his brother Shahab’s keen hearing, he caught the foreign presence hidden beneath the wind.
It was not the sound of hooves. It was the eerie approach of military boots, carefully killing their footsteps, keeping a measured distance.
“Not Alexander’s main force… Stragglers, or mercenaries turned looters.”
Cyrus tightened his grip on the broken dagger at his waist. The king had promised to “let them go,” but every great army carried uncontrolled claws of its own.
2. Prelude to the Ambush
The moment the moon slipped behind the clouds, those claws bared themselves.
Arrows sliced through the darkness.
“Gaaah!”
A porter at the rear collapsed, an arrow piercing his shoulder.
“Enemy attack! Everyone—take cover behind the rocks!”
At Cyrus’s shout, more than a dozen riders charged in with torches raised. They wore Macedonian armor in disarray, faces masked—pure looters.
“Hey, Persian sheep! Hand over the gold you hid! Give us the queen and we’ll spare your lives!”
Vulgar laughter tore through the silence.
They did not know the treasures had already been buried in the sand. They chased only the rumor of a royal caravan.
3. The Defensive Line of the ‘People of the Market’
“…Gold? Too bad. It’s already part of the desert.”
Cyrus rose from behind the rocks.
“All we carry now is the obsession to reach the east alive. …And that won’t come cheap.”
At his signal, Kabir moved.
He could not fight like his brother, but he carried the art of blinding. From the sand, he hurled Inaz’s special chili powder straight at the noses of the charging horses.
“Hiiiii!”
The horses reared and screamed, throwing their riders one after another.
Then the strong men—once porters of the market—leapt out wielding clubs and balance poles, their tools of trade turned into weapons.
“You think we’ll let filthy hands touch our queen?!”
“We’ll show you the pride of the market!”
4. Nilfar’s Light and Shadow
Amid the chaos, one looter raised his sword and rushed toward the rocks where Queen Nilfar hid.
“Found you, Your Majesty…!”
A cold blade slid against his neck.
Nilfar herself had drawn her sword.
“…I am not a princess who is merely protected. I chose to live by staking the lives of my people as collateral.”
In her eyes dwelled not only mercy, but the ruthless strength of one who had lost a nation.
A single, decisive thrust. The man fell soundlessly into the sand.
5. Blood-Stained Desert, a March of Resolve
The brutal clash lasted for hours, but before the desperate resolve of the people of the market, the looters were gradually overwhelmed.
They had misjudged the madness of those who had something to protect.
“…Any pursuit, Kabir?”
Binding a cut on his shoulder, Cyrus stared into the dark.
“…No. The survivors fled west.”
Before dawn.
The desert lay strewn with the bodies of looters and their own fallen comrades alike.
Cyrus bowed once to the dead, then faced forward again.
“Carefully now… step by step. …The trip isn’t over until we get home, right?”
Nilfar wiped the blood from her blade with sand and took her place beside him.
They were no longer mere fugitives.
They had become a new caravan—one that carved its own road through the world.
