He’d made a vow after that. There would be no more lost opportunities. Unjustly deprived of his father’s ancestor blade, his family lands, his birthright throne, he’d then been given to the Order, which had told him how to live, who to kill, and it wouldn’t even allow him the woman he loved.
Devedas was done being the servant of lesser men. It was his place to rule.
“There are things I cannot tell you, Karno. You must understand that there are forces who would use Rada against me. I’m not commanding you to do this as your superior. I’m asking you to do this because I trust you more than anyone else. Protect her. Please.”
Karno sighed. “For how long?”
“Once Ashok is dealt with, I’ll reassess the threat.”
“Very well.” Karno was solemn as he picked up his glass to make a toast. “To an old friend.”
“To an old friend.” Devedas raised his glass. “May we kill him speedily.”
Chapter 7
“Behold, Risaldar Jagdish. I give you Neeramphorn!” Gutch declared as they rode around the bend. “Three Corners City, the jewel of the mountain on a mountain of jewels.”
The warrior stood up in his stirrups to get a better view. All he could see were the outer walls, and they weren’t even a true city wall, just one massive gatehouse blocking a narrow mountain pass. From here Neeramphorn didn’t look like much.
“Come now, Gutch. This can’t be all that. You’re from Vadal City, the only thing fancier than it is the Capitol.”
“True, true. Vadal is the greatest house in Lok, with the nicest weather, the best food, and the prettiest girls, without doubt, but it’s said a city where the borders of three great houses intersect, there’s three times the risk yet three times the profit.” Gutch inhaled through his nose, taking a massive breath, and expanding his already gigantic chest theatrically. “You smell that?”
“Coal smoke?”
“Opportunity!”
Jagdish pulled his precious pocket watch from where he kept it safe inside his coat and checked the time. It had taken an hour of calm riding from where Ashok and the others were encamped. The locals kept the snow tramped down, so they could probably make it back in half that time if their lives depended on it. This particular entrance to the city was supposedly the least used of the three gates, and the only things they had passed on the way in were side roads leading to various mines and miners on their way to deliver wagons of ore. To Jagdish, who had been raised on horseback beneath the sun in a land of plenty, everyone in this part of the world seemed to want to dig in the dirt like a mole.
The air was tinted brown from the smoke. Mountains which should have been beautiful and crystal clear appeared fuzzy to the eye. Gutch had said it was because in the winter the air got trapped in the valleys and that this wasn’t even that bad yet. It would grow worse and worse until cleaned out by a storm, and that some days it was like walking in a caustic fog, but coughing fits and runny eyes were a small price to pay for such industry.
“We’re in luck, from the yellow sun on that flag, this is still the Thao gate. They’re the easiest to work with.”
“You didn’t know for sure?”
“I haven’t been here for years. This gate will be boring and staffed by dullards. The Kharsawan gate will be manned by sticklers for good paperwork, and the Akershan gate is always run by greedy pigs. But don’t worry. Regardless of which house is controlling which gate now, the tax collectors and guards all bribe the same.” Gutch laughed. “Don’t let that hurt your feelings. Most folks don’t take their honor as serious as you do.”
Low-ranking warriors were underpaid and underappreciated, of course they tried to make a few extra notes off the weaker castes whenever given the opportunity. Some graft was to be expected. Jagdish didn’t care how bad other houses’ soldiers were about it because they weren’t under his command.
“Now swallow that Vadal pride and try to look like an outcast, booted from his army and making his way as a poor disgraced bodyguard—”
“Such a far-fetched act.”
“A bodyguard serving a magnificent merchant of wealth and distinction.”
Jagdish snorted. “Where are we going to find one of those at this hour?”
“Kiss my vast buttocks, fish breath! I am too a merchant of wealth and distinction, or at least the man at that gate stamping these traveling papers I forged had best believe so, or we will have a very exciting time.”
A half an inch of fresh snow had fallen during the night. They had been following hoof and wheel tracks all morning. Ahead of them a wagon, heavy with coal, had been stopped and was being searched by a pair of guards.
“What do you suppose they’re looking for?” Gutch asked.
“Ashok, more than likely.”
“There is quite the bounty on the head of our illustrious general.”
Jagdish glanced over at his traveling companion. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Me? I’m above temptation, even though that money would go a long way toward my goal of buying my own palace. But I’m still unclear why you’d throw your lot in with him anyway. You want to clear your name and go back to your pretty worker wife, joining up with the most wanted criminal in Lok isn’t going to help. Me and you could find those wizards just fine on our own.”
It was a valid point. “I’m a good soldier, but killing powerful wizards is Protector work, and do you know any other Protectors who are going to go out of their way to help the likes of me? Besides, you speak of honor, but in his own peculiar way Ashok is the most honorable man I know. He may be a criminal, but because he was betrayed by fate, not by any failure of character.”
“Like the Law gives a damn. I’m just saying—”
“And I’m saying that I’m beginning to enjoy your company, so it would be a real shame to have to run you through with my sword for wagging your big mouth.”
Gutch sighed. “Fine, be that way.”
“Just remember our deal, I restore my name and get a new command, you get rich and do whatever it is rich workers do.”
“Pleasure women.” Gutch muttered under his breath. “Lots and lots of pleasure women.”
Then they had to be silent because they were nearing the cluster of haphazard trade stands that inevitably sprang up outside any city gate. Merchants whose papers were denied for whatever reason simply set up shop outside until their wares were gone or until they’d sold enough of their inventory to afford the entry bribes. It was early enough and cold enough that there was little traffic yet, so most of the hawkers were still warming themselves by their fires.
A single casteless woman was pouring out a piss pot by the side of the road. For a moment Jagdish was worried that she would somehow recognize them, like the many casteless they’d seen on the journey here, but their celebrity must have been limited to Ashok and Keta, because she kept her eyes averted to avoid offending the whole men.
The guards were still listlessly poking spears into the coal pile, so Jagdish and Gutch dismounted and waited their turn. There was a water trough for the horses. Somebody had even broken the ice already, so they let the animals drink their fill.
Jagdish did his best to look like he didn’t care, but inside he was judging the Thao soldiers, from their sloppy uniforms, to their unpolished boots, to their careless demeanor. It was one thing to be slow but good, or fast but sloppy. But slow and sloppy was simply unforgivable. He could have snuck a sea demon in under that coal from how little effort they’d put forth searching it. If they’d been his men, he’d rip them, and then have his havildar, Wat, make them unload and load the whole wagon, coal by individual painstaking coal, until they learned their lesson. Except Wat had been murdered by wizards, the poor dead bastard, which was what brought Jagdish all the way here to scowl disapprovingly at these Thao amateurs.
Thao liked to brag about how they were one of the few landlocked Great Houses, like their distance from the evil ocean somehow made them better than Vadal men with their long coa
stline, but whenever their warrior castes clashed in a raid, Vadal always won. That’s what happened when trumped-up terrace farmers clashed with professional soldiers. His people might not be proud of him, but Jagdish was still exceedingly proud of his people.
When the gate opened, Jagdish got his first real look at Neeramphorn. This part looked like a bunch of shoddy buildings stacked on top of each other, climbing up the mountainside, all connected by walkways held together by chains, rope, and faith. There were smokestacks everywhere, and a multitude of workers were moving about, probably burning things or melting things, or whatever it was workers did here. Once the wagon was through they were signaled to approach.
Sadly, the gate closed. These Thao weren’t that lazy. “Traveling papers, please.”
“I’m a forge master smith of Great House Vadal, here to arrange the purchase of ingots.” Gutch handed his forgeries over. That soldier carried the papers through the small side door to whatever minor official was stuck manning this post.
“Do I look like I care, worker? You. Bodyguard. Come here.”
Jagdish obediently approached. Since he was no actor, he was still wearing his battered traveling uniform, in the blue-gray and bronze of Great House Vadal. It wasn’t like he could fake the accent of a different house anyway, but he had removed his rank and insignia. It was common for warriors unwanted by their house to hire themselves out in the service of workers. Even the lowest of warriors still had to eat.
Two Thao soldiers studied him. Proud Jagdish knew he could beat them both, but he let them sneer. They weren’t Vadal men, so their opinions were basically worthless. They looked to Jagdish, and then to their sheet of paper which had obviously come off a printing press, then back to Jagdish.
They were trying to decide if he matched the description of Ashok.
He couldn’t help himself. “Don’t worry. You’ll know the Black Heart when you see him.”
“How do you know that’s who we’re looking for?” asked the older of the two, who was about Jagdish’s age. He wore the rank of a havildar.
“That’s who everyone is looking for nowadays, greatest criminal in the land and all that. But he’s a tall fellow, few inches taller than me, lean but strong as an ox, and faster than a tiger. They say he’s killed over a thousand men in combat, and brother, when you see his eyes you know it’s true.”
The younger soldier was barely more than a boy. “You ain’t met the Black Heart.”
He was tempted to tell them that the Black Heart had once broken his leg in a duel that had since become famous. There weren’t very many men in the world who could claim to have fought Ashok Vadal and lived to tell about it. Only Gutch had been taken off to the other side to be questioned as well, and he was silently pleading for Jagdish to keep his mouth shut. One of the hardest things in the world for a warrior was to refrain from bragging, especially when he’d actually earned it.
“I only met him in passing once, Nayak, but he makes an unforgettable impression.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure you did. We need to see your sword,” the havildar ordered. “Draw it, slowly.”
Jagdish did as directed. If they were still checking swords, then the soldiers here had not yet heard about the destruction of Angruvadal. That was good. Ashok may have been painfully honest, but Jagdish liked the idea that anyone tempted to hunt them would do so fearing certain death. That was just good tactics.
They stopped him when it was half free and obviously made of plain steel. “That’s fine. Sheath it and wait here for your charge.” The havildar took a deep breath, then delivered a list of rules in a manner that suggested he had given this speech hundreds of times. “The city is divided into three sections. Warriors may travel freely within the section controlled by their house. Members of the warrior caste not obligated to those three houses—that means you—must remain close to whoever holds their contracts at all times. Unaccompanied warriors not of the three houses are subject to penalty.”
“Flogging?”
The nayak chuckled. “For a Vadal man in these mountains? More like hanging.”
“Ha! I like your attitude. When I was a nayak I thought I knew everything too. You come to Vadal City sometime and I’ll buy you a drink.”
“If I ever visit the land of the northern swine herds it’ll be because I’m leading a raid.”
The havildar just sounded bored as he ignored the back and forth. “No unsanctioned dueling. No fighting or drunkenness outside of sanctioned venues…”
While the list of prohibitions and punishments droned on and on, he noticed that a few more warriors had come out of the side door and escorted Gutch inside. “Where are they taking my merchant?”
The havildar obviously had no idea, but had at least gotten through the memorized portion so he could speak normally again. “That’s no concern of yours. Stay with your horses. If the Inquisitor needs to question you too, they’ll send for you.”
“There’s an Inquisitor here?” Jagdish tried not to show any reaction, and failed. Damn it, Gutch…
“Not a friend of the Law, Vadal man?”
“Oh, I love the Law, brother. I’ve just learned it’s best for a simple soldier to keep his head down when its chief servants are around.”
The older of the pair appeared to appreciate that sentiment. “You and me both.” It didn’t matter what house you served, all soldiers shared that opinion. Sometimes the question wasn’t so much who was guilty or innocent, but who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. “I can tell you’ve not always been stuck serving portly merchants. What was your rank?”
In reality, Jagdish had been of greater status, but he lied. “I was a havildar like you, before my risaldar made a bad decision and needed someone to blame for it.”
“That’s what we’re here for, making officers look good…But you understand that when the first caste who wear the Law over their faces or their hearts ride into town, nobody tells us why.”
“There’s Protectors here as well?”
“Three of them arrived yesterday,” said the nayak. “Never seen more than one at a time before.”
“It must be something serious then.” Jagdish looked toward the door. Gutch was still in there. A criminal being questioned by someone who made his living catching liars? This was bound to end badly. Would the worker talk? Would he sell them all for a fistful of notes? “Three Protectors…What manner of hard bastard criminals do you grow in these mountains anyways?”
“As if you can talk! It’s your Vadal criminal whose got the Thakoor so worked up they’ve got us searching every single cart big enough to smuggle a goat in. Sure, we got crime, but it isn’t like our house gave its ancestor blade to a casteless so he could go about massacring whole villages.”
That was rather insulting, even if true. “Come now, friends. It could be worse. At least the criminal you’re on the lookout for isn’t from House Sarnobat. Then he’d massacre the village and molest all the livestock.”
The three soldiers had a laugh. “You’re alright for a Vadal thug,” said the havildar.
Jagdish liked them too. So he was really hoping he wouldn’t end up in a sword fight with them in the next few minutes.
Other travelers arrived, so Jagdish had to step aside. Still no Gutch. But also no Inquisitor coming outside and ordering his arrest. He checked his pocket watch. The one hand was still ticking along. Trying to act nonchalant was making the tension worse. If something happened he had to decide whether to run or fight. The answer depended entirely upon the unknown of whether Gutch was busy betraying him or not. How did real criminals do this sort of thing? At least battle was honest. After what felt like forever, Jagdish checked his watch again, and found that only a few minutes had passed.
Gutch came back outside, his expression unreadable. There was no one bellowing for his arrest though, but knowing the sneaky Inquisition they would probably just surprise him with arrows to the legs so he couldn’t escape, then torture him at their convenience. His fake merchan
t waved for him to approach the gate. Still no shouts or arrows, so Jagdish took hold of the horses’ bridles and walked them over.
The havildar looked at the fresh stamp on Gutch’s forgeries. “Everything seems to be in order and your taxes are paid. Have a pleasant stay in beautiful Neeramphorn, merchant.”
“I’ll pass on the beauty as long as it is a profitable stay,” Gutch responded. He gave Jagdish a nod as if to say everything was fine. Jagdish would believe that once they were through.
The gates were opened. Gutch went through, acting casual as could be. Jagdish followed. The stonework inside was even shoddier than expected. A proper battering ram would make short work of it.
The havildar caught his look of disgust. “Don’t judge, Vadal man, the city just keeps growing so fast and filling new canyons, we just keep adding new gatehouses to accommodate it. By the way, if you’ve got any pride left after having to serve a worker all day, Canda’s Favor is the best place in the city for you to lose all your notes in a game of dice. And it’s one of the few establishments those colors you still wear won’t get you stabbed.”
“Thanks for the warning, Havildar. May your mandatory wagon searches bring you great glory.”
The Thao gave him a profane gesture indicating where Jagdish could stuff that opinion, but he did it with a smile.
Once on the other side, there was still no alarm, no waiting paltan of deadly Inquisitors, no trio of merciless Protectors, just hundreds of workers doing worker things. The narrow streets were snow churned into mud, and around them were a multitude of buildings constructed of wood and brick, belching smoke from great round chimneys. They walked for a time without speaking.
Like every worker’s district Jagdish had ever been in, there was a great deal of hammering, banging, shouting, and haggling. All the noise was making their horses nervous. Once Jagdish was certain they weren’t being followed and no one would be able to hear them over the racket, he asked, “What happened inside the gatehouse?”
“Even when being questioned by a fearsome Inquisitor, Gutch remains a man of his word. Don’t worry, Jagdish. I honored our bargain.”
House of Assassins Page 7