Destroyer of Worlds

by Larry Correia

  Though inscrutable as always, Ashok had not seemed to mind his name being used to strike fear into the disobedient. After twenty years of collecting heads for the Law, he was probably used to it.

  ✧ ✧ ✧

  Ashok dragged the criminal into the command tent by his hair. His squealing and crying annoyed Ashok, but worse, the noise interrupted Thera’s meeting with the rebel leaders. Since he had been inside the walls of Chakma all day putting out fires—sometimes literally—Ashok did not know what he had missed, but from the raised voices he’d heard though the fabric and the angry looks he could see now, Thera had upset these men somehow.

  This was not a surprise to Ashok. She had a knack for infuriating people. He had simply become used to her obstinate ways. The rebels had just met her.

  “Ashok has returned. Please join us.” Thera clearly noted he had a prisoner, but chose not to say anything about it. “We were just discussing our next move.”

  It was plain that whatever she had declared that move to be, the rebels had not agreed with it. They had taken a city, which was quite a triumph, only they seemed angry, rather than happy. There were a dozen men assembled inside their spacious stolen tent. The bodyguard Murugan was standing right behind Thera, looking extremely nervous. Among the rebels was Pankaj Akershan, the first-caste man they had met in Dhakhantar.

  When Pankaj noticed Ashok’s captive he exclaimed, “That’s one of my servants. What are you doing with him?”

  “Master Pankaj, please don’t let them kill me,” the criminal begged.

  Ashok kicked him in the stomach hard enough to send him rolling across the fine rugs. “Be quiet. You will be judged shortly.” He turned back to the council as if he’d never been interrupted. It was plain Pankaj did not like his man being abused, but Ashok did not care.

  “Why are you treating one of my servants like this?”

  Thera held up one gloved hand to silence the tax collector. “How goes it in the city?”

  Ashok noted that she stopped the rebel abruptly, reflexively. She was settling into her role as a commander, but she was a stranger to the subtle manipulations of the highest caste. The young man seemed angrier at being cut off than his man being treated poorly. Thera didn’t seem to notice, but the First tended to remember such sleights.

  “It is disorderly, Prophet,” he reported. “The rebels bristle at the code of conduct you have set for them. Their desire for revenge has made them stupid. There have been retribution murders, looting, and arson. A riot has broken out in the market district. There have been attempts on the lives of our hostages.”

  “What? The fools. We need those warriors so we can ransom them back to their house.”

  One of the rebels spoke up. He wore the insignia of some kind of high-status worker. “It’s because the warriors in Chakma have been cruel, taking what’s not theirs, and abusing their authority. The phontho here was an old fiend who let his men do whatever they felt like. My people’s anger is a righteous one.”

  “They’ll have to get over it,” Thera said. “I need to trade hostages for the lives of the casteless.”

  As she said that, Ashok noted that though they had provided most of the bodies to the fight, there were no casteless among the rebellion’s leadership. It was ironic that even among those who brazenly defied the Law, they still instinctively followed its divisions.

  Other than Murugan, Pankaj was probably the youngest one in the tent, but he was clearly used to throwing his weight around and getting what he wanted. “If we let the warriors go, then they’ll simply return to fight us again. We must execute them at once.”

  Pankaj was not incorrect. Except Ashok had given his word to the men he’d captured that their lives would be spared. He would not violate his oath, even one made to someone who’d be dead shortly thereafter. Having already explained the circumstances of their surrender to her, Ashok looked to their reluctant prophet.

  “No,” Thera said, in a tone that said the matter was settled.

  “Before letting them go we could cut one of their hands off at least,” one of the workers suggested. “That will render them useless in a fight. And the presence of so many cripples among the warriors will remind them not to trifle with us! The Law will be too scared to come here.”

  A few of the rebels nodded in agreement.

  Ashok had to restrain himself from speaking out of turn. These fools did not understand that the Law did not forget any trespass. They could remove the limbs from every warrior in Akershan and there would still be hell to pay for what they had done here.

  “At least let us cut off their thumbs,” said a rebel. “Can’t hold a sword without thumbs!”

  But Thera was having none of it. “There will be no torture. That’s final.”

  The high-status worker spoke again, but with the tone of a sullen child. “Very well. I will tell my men to leave those prisoners alone.”

  Ashok did not tell the worker that his word would probably be unnecessary now, since Ashok had already killed the ringleader when he had refused to stand down. The mob had watched Ashok do it, and an example had been set. Then he’d left Toramana and his archers to watch over the prisoners just in case. He rather doubted it would be an issue again.

  “The rioting continues, but it is contained to one district for now. The Sons are in place to keep it from spreading. The workers blame the casteless for this battle. The casteless seem content that they are not being exterminated, but they are afraid. Word of our refugee caravan has spread, and many of the faithful wish to join.”

  “They cannot leave!” Pankaj exclaimed. “We will need them here to defend the walls if we are to hold Chakma.”

  “I’ve been trying to tell you, if the warriors lay siege to this place, it will fall,” Thera said, and from her exasperated tone, Ashok now knew what they’d been arguing about before his arrival. “They’ll surround it and camp until you starve, or if they’re in a hurry they’ll build siege engines and tear these feeble walls down.”

  “That will not happen. We have proven ourselves strong! I will declare myself the rightful judge of Chakma and open negotiations with the Thakoor. He will grant us autonomy.” Pankaj gestured at the workers. “Their demands about pay and working conditions will be met. The non-people will be allowed to live. And the faithful will be granted leniency so they may worship freely.”

  Ashok couldn’t believe his ears. It turned out a first-caste fanatic could be just as delusional as the lowest of the low. He tried to warn Pankaj. “Your Thakoor will not agree to any of that. As long as the Capitol stands, the Law will never abide such dissent. The Protectors will come for you. They will make an example of this place.”

  “How do you know this? Did the gods tell you?”

  “Your gods tell me nothing. I know that is what they will do, because it is what I would have done in their place.”

  “The gods should be guiding us!” exclaimed another worker. “Only we’ve seen no evidence this girl is the true Voice. Mother Dawn told us to watch for a prophet, but all this one has done is keep us from taking what is rightfully ours and stopped us from killing those who deserve it.”

  When several of the leaders murmured agreement, Murugan actually spoke up. “Don’t you dare speak ill of her. She’s the Voice. I’ve heard it with my own ears.”

  “Lies!” the worker shouted.

  “It’s the truth.” Murugan moved his hand to the hilt of his sword. “If you want, I’ll demonstrate my conviction.”

  The worker glared at Murugan, but though the worker was a tall, fit man, he wasn’t stupid enough to try the young bodyguard. That was wise.

  “I’ve seen it as well,” Ashok stated flatly, because even though he thought the gods were foolishness, he would not withhold truthful testimony which might aid the woman he was obligated to protect. Thera seemed thankful for him speaking up for her, though the fanatics remained belligerent.

  “Then why haven’t the gods spoken to us? This girl wants to go and hide i
n the mountains, when we just conquered the jewel of the plains. Why live in a cave when every one of us here can claim our own mansion? Mother Dawn’s prophecies came true, but we’ve seen nothing from this one. While we took the city, she was outside the walls, doing nothing.”

  “What is your name?” Murugan asked the worker.

  “I am Rohit the Miller.”

  “And the man you disrespect is Ashok Vadal, twenty years a Protector, who once bore mighty Angruvadal, who has killed more than a thousand men in battle, who came back from the dead to serve this woman. Whose testimony is worth more? Rohit the grain grinder or Ashok whom the gods chose?”

  Ashok just scowled at the bodyguard. That description was true for the most part—though it was more the Grand Inquisitor who had put him here than the Forgotten—but he did not care for the way the Sons had built him up in their heads. It still seemed inappropriate to flatter a criminal.

  “Enough, Murugan. They simply don’t realize that the Forgotten only speaks when he feels like it, he’s a lot like Ashok in that way.” There said that last bit with a lighter tone that was obviously intended to break the tension and calm the belligerent leaders. “The Forgotten will make a pronouncement when he’s good and ready. Until then, you may not know me, but many of you know Keta and trust him. You’ve heard his sermons. He’s prepared a place for the rebellion to be safe. You believed him before.”

  Pankaj shook his head. “Chakma hasn’t seen the Keeper of Names for a long time. He abandoned us. We’ve had to figure out things on our own, and we have, accomplishing more in the last day than Keta has in years. You can’t just use his name and expect us to obey. We have claimed a position of authority here. We will not throw it away.”

  “I think you are wrong,” Thera said.

  “But do the gods? Rohit brings up a good point. We placed our faith in you, but what has it gained us?”

  “A way out of this death trap,” Thera snapped. “The rebellion has survived by hiding and using hit-and-run tactics. These walls may look safe, but so does a turtle’s shell, until the bear flips it over and eats its soft belly.”

  Rohit was growing furious. “So you have warned, but in your own voice, not that of the gods. I’ve seen no vast light, no words that sound like trumpets in our head as Keta’s stories have claimed. You say the Forgotten speaks in his own time, but our time is now, and you have offered nothing. We built an army sufficient to take a mighty city, and all you brought was a bunch of starving non-people.”

  Ashok knew that he and the Sons of the Black Sword had defeated more warriors than the rest of the rebels put together, even though the rebels were far more numerous. The locals had opened the gates, but without the Sons to intercept and defeat them, the organized warriors would have crushed any resistance. To say they had brought nothing was a terrible personal insult, but Ashok held his tongue.

  “We got our hopes up expecting divine intervention, and instead we received a woman with a cripple’s hands and a coward’s heart!”

  Thera gasped at the brazen insult. But before she could respond, before anyone else could react, Ashok crossed the entire tent to grab Rohit by the throat. He choked the man’s air off before he could utter one more disgusting lie.

  The other leaders all flinched and stepped away from their unfortunate comrade.

  “Ashok, put him down!” Thera commanded.

  In his anger he had not realized that he had lifted Rohit, so that his feet were kicking a few inches above the ground. The miller’s eyes were popping out of his head. His mouth was puckering as he tried to desperately inhale. He slapped futilely at Ashok’s arms, but he could do nothing against the iron grip.

  “Offense has been taken,” Ashok growled. It was the official challenge for a legal duel, and from the reaction of the rebels, the most frightening thing that could be uttered by a man of Ashok’s dark reputation.

  “Offense has not been taken,” Thera insisted. “I’ll decide when I am offended. He insulted me. Not you. Rohit misspoke. We need to work with these people, not against them. Let him go, Ashok. Please.”

  “As you wish.” Ashok dropped the terrified worker on his ass. He had acted inappropriately and overstepped his bounds. It was his obligation to protect her life, not her feelings. But for some reason the insult against her had meant far more than the one against himself, so he addressed the rebels. “Let it be known that Thera has more courage than all of you combined. Those scars on her hands were earned fighting a battle against an evil beyond your comprehension in the graveyard of demons. If you ignore her counsel, then you are fools, and will perish like fools.”

  A few had the sense to feel shame. The others were a combination of angry and afraid. Rohit was coughing as he crawled away. But sadly, Ashok could see that proud young Pankaj took his henchman’s embarrassment personally. The young man may have been a true believer, but he also retained his caste’s exaggerated sense of importance. Thera had been trying to keep the rebellion in one piece. In his anger, Ashok had unwittingly sabotaged her. Pankaj would not, could not, back down now without losing authority in front of his men.

  Pride had made Pankaj blind to the future, but brave in the moment. “Enough of this. I am not some fish-eater to be bullied and led around. Mother Dawn came to me. Me. She said I was special. I risked my life and my name. I organized the rebels of Chakma. I bought weapons and hid them until it was time. I have the greater force. Those who fought here today are loyal to me. I will not be disrespected and offered scraps. You forget who this city belongs to.”

  Ashok did not understand these fanatics. Pankaj had seemed so hopeful when they’d first arrived. Perhaps the young man had imagined the prophet would simply tell him what he wanted to hear?

  “Pankaj, please reconsider,” Thera began. “Let us work this out.”

  “If the Forgotten is displeased by my decisions, then I am certain he will tell me himself,” Pankaj snapped. “Where is he?”

  Thera’s eyes narrowed dangerously. She had been trying hard to be polite, and she was an impolite contrarian by nature. There was no controlling the Voice, but if she could, Ashok had no doubt she would’ve made it appear right then in order to smite these stiff-necked idiots.

  With their alliance falling apart, Pankaj tried to assert his dominance. “Now that Ashok’s report has been given, I demand to know why my loyal man is lying there with his hands tied.”

  “I did nothing wrong!” Pankaj’s servant wailed.

  Ashok walked back over to him, grabbed the man roughly by his shirt, and hauled him to his knees before Thera. “He is a rapist. One of my patrols heard the screaming and found him and his men having their way with a woman they’d dragged into an alley.”

  The captive tried to plead his case. “She was a warrior’s wife. We caught them trying to sneak out the gate in disguise. We killed the man, just as we should have. She tried to run and we caught her.”

  “And then brutalized her next to her husband’s dead body.” The Sons had put arrows in the other participants, as per Thera’s orders not to tolerate such things, but they’d not known what to do with this one when he’d started crying about his high and mighty office with his pants still around his knees.

  “So what?” Pankaj demanded. “She was of lower caste and deserved it. This man is of my household. His family is wealthy and influential. He should be treated with more dignity than this.”

  Several of the workers gave their self-appointed ruler the side eye as he said that. There wasn’t much profit in rebelling against one overbearing ruler just to trade him for a new one.

  “I can think of nothing more disgusting than excusing evil just because the perpetrator has important friends,” Thera said. “My instructions were clear. He did not heed them. For that, he deserves execution.”

  Ashok pulled back the captive’s hair with one hand, exposing his throat, as he drew a knife with the other.

  “No, wait, please, I beg you! I did nothing wrong!”

  “Stop
this madness at once,” Pankaj said. “How dare you? This man is obligated to me. He’s been a loyal servant during our plots against the Law. He is valuable to the rebellion and necessary for the defense of this city. I will not tolerate such an insult. You need us more than we need you. I have an army of brave men and twenty Fortress rods. You have an army of refugees. Without what I bring, you have nothing.”

  There was an edge of anger slipping into Thera’s voice. “I said my instructions were clear.”

  “You will heed my words this instant!” Pankaj shouted. “Kill this man, and our arrangement is finished. You will be cast out of Chakma. You will receive no further aid from us. Your sick and weak will die on the plains.”

  Ashok went to kill the criminal anyway, but before the killing strike was delivered, Thera said, “Ashok, wait…”

  Knife pressed against the rapist’s neck, Ashok paused, genuinely curious. Would she back down in order to keep the rebellion unified?

  She met Pankaj’s eyes with a cold, level gaze. Thera stared him down, unblinking. “I don’t want to get blood in my new tent. Do it outside.”

  “As you wish.”

  Ashok dragged the criminal across the rugs, as he kicked and thrashed and wailed, “No! No! Please, no!” through the furs that served as a door and into the night.

  A few of the Sons were standing watch. They saw their beloved general pulling the pathetic wretch along but said nothing. Once he was far enough away to not get arterial spray on the fabric, Ashok jammed his knife beneath the rapist’s ear, and then yanked it out in a spurt of blood. The pathetic mewling died off as he flopped over, clawing at this wound. Ashok wiped his knife on the dying man’s shirt, then left him there to water the grass.

  “Like us to carry the body off after he quits twitching, General?” Gupta asked.

  “No. Leave him so as our guests depart they can see what happens when one does not follow the rules.” Ashok reasoned it was good for the Sons to see this as well. Though faithful thus far, they had been growing in numbers and it would be good for them to be reminded the value of maintaining discipline. He sheathed his knife and went back inside.