“Yes. His estate is on the eastern border, but he’s in this region recruiting warriors for his new garrison.”
“This man would even hide her from your Thakoor?”
“He said he’d do anything for her and meant it. That particular favor I think he would do just out of spite.”
“He is a man of honor?” Karno asked, suspicious, because those were few and far between.
“Very much so, Protector. His name is Jagdish.”
Chapter 36
It was a clear dawn, but something in the air told Devedas that the weather was about to change. He thought about it as he sat next to the campfire, drinking his morning tea. Perhaps it was the sharp edge to the wind, or the way it caused waves to move across the endless fields of grass below, but there was definitely an energy, a tension, to the air. In the far south where Devedas had grown up, one needed to pay close attention to the weather, because if you were caught out in a storm in Devakula, you were usually never seen again.
It had been a fruitless season. While they’d searched for Ashok, the grass had grown tall and turned to gold. Spring had turned to summer, and in these lands that was a time of wind, lightning, and fires. He and his Protectors were camped on a rise at the edge of the western Akershan hills. To one side were steep mountains, still capped in snow, and to the other, were plains as far as the eye could see, only interrupted by the tents of the warrior caste, who had been obligated to be Devedas’ hounds.
The hounds had lost the trail, but Ashok was close. Devedas knew that the same way he knew the weather was about to turn evil.
By the time they had left Chakma, wind, rain, and migrating herds had obliterated any trace of Ashok’s passing. Without an indicator of where to go, they had begun a systematic search of the most likely region. They were checking every gully, ravine, cave, or hill, and questioning every shepherd, farmer, slave, and casteless they came across.
It was a terrible waste of ten Protectors. The Order wasn’t very big to begin with. While they searched uselessly here, surely criminals elsewhere flourished. Or worse, criminals who should have been caught by them were being dealt with by the Inquisition instead, which made his order look ineffectual in comparison.
Unable to sleep, Devedas had risen early, so he had seen the tired warrior on a haggard horse ride into the camp long before dawn. Wherever the man had come from, he had been riding hard because his animal was lathered in sweat. He had ridden right to the phontho’s tent to give his report. One did not wake a high-status man lightly, so it must have been important.
Since Devedas was above yet outside their official chain of command, he had not bothered to walk over to see what was going on. It would either concern him, or it would not. Whatever the news, he would deal with it after he broke his fast.
The Protector who had been on watch had been more curious than his commander, however. With Ashok’s gang making a habit of ambushing warriors at night, Devedas had made sure that there was always at least one Protector with his augmented senses watching over the camp in addition to guards placed by the regular warriors. This shift belonged to six-year senior, Usman Thao.
“There’s been a messenger, Lord Devedas.”
“I saw. What was that about, Usman?”
“Word from the Capitol. The casteless extermination begins anew.”
Devedas closed his eyes and swore. What in the salty hell were the judges thinking? There was no time for such foolishness. All they would accomplish was driving more desperate fools to join the rebels. When he opened his eyes again, Usman was still standing there, looking pained. He was a lanky young man, and obviously not wanting to give his commander news that was sure to upset him.
“There’s more.”
“Sorry, sir. Yes. They’ve expanded the scope of their killings and added three more regions, including the one we’re in now. Our escort has been recalled and reassigned to help the culling. We’re losing all our warriors.”
Devedas’ initial reaction was a flash of anger. Finding Ashok was far more important than massacring helpless fish-eaters. He didn’t need them for the fight, but he needed scouts. He needed numbers to watch the plains and keeps their ears open. This was an insult. He was the Lord Protector. In this situation there were only a few people who had the authority to take away warriors he had already obligated. “Was this the Grand Inquisitor’s doing?”
“No, sir. It’s by orders of the highest Akershani judge in the Capitol, a man named Faril.”
Omand may not have put his stamp on it himself, but since it was one of his lackeys he might as well have. Even when they were nominally on the same side, it was as if the Grand Inquisitor couldn’t help himself. The nefarious mask was compelled to sabotage others. In his search for power Devedas had allied himself with the Grand Inquisitor, a decision which he had come to regret, but there was no turning back now. Frustrated, he wanted nothing more than to punch something, but it wouldn’t do to show such emotion in front of his men.
“Oceans. Do these fools not realize they’re only going to make things worse here?” But even as Devedas said it, he already knew the answer. Omand did nothing without weighing all the risks and rewards first. He had a reason. It was more than likely a selfish and evil one, but the reason would be there.
Usman continued his report. “They’re going to break camp and then ride to the next town to put the casteless there to the sword…Or at least the ones stupid enough to stay put who didn’t flee across the border weeks ago. I can’t imagine there’s too many left anywhere in the north of this house.”
“You’d be surprised. A Protector has no home except where the Law tells us to be that day, so we forget most are not like us. They are creatures of habit, even the non-people. Leaving a home is hard when it’s the only thing you’ve ever known, even when it’s just a casteless shack where you sleep next to your pigs to stay warm. I imagine there will still be a great number of them available to kill pointlessly.”
Yet that reminded him of a prediction he had made when they’d first arrived in these lands and seen the butchering of the casteless firsthand. His former brother wouldn’t be able to abide such a crime, and let’s be honest, whether the Law approved or not, this was a terrible crime. Devedas might not like the Great Extermination, but Ashok would despise it.
They were both children of the Law, but Devedas was also the son of a disgraced bearer and a conquered house, and that drive to regain what had been taken had shaped him into the man he was. Ashok had only the Law, and now that he had been stripped of it, would be compelled to create his own new Law. For without Law, Ashok was empty. He would not allow this crime, of that Devedas was certain, because they had been brothers once, closer than blood. Ashok was perhaps the finest killer who had ever lived, but he never delighted in bloodshed. He did what needed doing, and never more. The sheer excess of the Great Extermination would offend him to his core.
The slaughter had drawn Ashok out of hiding last time. It would surely do so again.
“This isn’t right, sir,” Usman said. “A Capitol judge may outrank you, but he’s far away, and you’re here. If you tell the warriors we still need them, they may balk at disobeying their house, but most of them would rather have the honor of hunting the Black Heart than the indignity of chopping up helpless untouchables. By the time word gets back to the Capitol, surely we’ll have found the rebel’s hiding place.”
“No. Let them go.”
Usman seemed uncertain. “I know you think he’s near, but there’s still a lot of mountains to search. Without our scouts, how will we find Ashok?”
“Don’t worry.” Devedas threw the last of his tea into the fire, and watched it hiss into steam. “He will find us.”
Chapter 37
In a life filled with turmoil, the last few months in the Cove had been a rare season of peace. It had actually been…happy.
Such an unfamiliar feeling made Thera nervous.
She sat on the flat roof of what had once been t
heir hospital, watching the warm glow of the sun rise over the eastern rim. This particular building was mostly empty now, avoided by most of the faithful because of the great many deaths that had occurred within its walls, but she’d never bothered to pick different quarters. She’d seen no need. Besides, the superstitious religious fanatics thinking the place was haunted gave her a little more privacy.
Living in a giant bowl surrounded by mountains meant the sun appeared late and set early. An extra hour of shadow was a small price to pay for food, warmth, and security. Since summer had come, she found sleeping beneath the stars more comfortable than sleeping inside a featureless stone square.
Ashok lay on the blanket next to her, still fast asleep. The man had a remarkable ability to go several days without stopping, and then sleep whenever the opportunity presented itself for as long as possible. She found it was better to let him rest while he could.
Thera watched Ashok’s chest rise and fall with rhythmic breath. He was covered in scars, dozens of them. Punctures, lacerations, and burns, but whatever strange healing power the Protectors had had made all of those fade until they were little more than lighter traces on his deeply tanned skin. However, the biggest and most unfaded was the grisly mark where a molten shard of Angruvadal had been buried in his heart. He’d been cut so many times it was like reading a map, and every road had been a fight. Ashok’s body was a testament to just how durable a body could be.
He’d received many of those trying to rescue her. This man had died trying to rescue her. Thera was too old and jaded to harbor a silly girl’s ideas about romance, but say what you will, there was something about having a man willing to kill and die for you.
What had begun as a reluctant obligation, had turned into an unlikely partnership, and now…she didn’t really know what to call it. For years she’d had to be suspicious and hard. It was the only way to survive. She could never relax, never relent. It was all strife, as people—or gods—tried to use her. The bolt had taken her health. Her arranged marriage had taken her pride. Wizards had taken her freedom. And demons had taken her hands.
Now, for the first time in a long time, the only thing anyone was taking from her was what she was willing to give. Ashok would never betray or abuse her. It was difficult for someone like her to admit, but she thought she might actually love him. Perhaps some of that silly girl lived in her still after all?
Life was good. So she feared it would not last.
She was a woman, but a warrior caste one. Thinking about emotions was complex and messy. Thinking about conflict was straightforward, and strangely enough, soothing. So Thera turned her attention to the far side of the crater where one newly formed unit of her newly formed army was already up and training.
Sixty men were practicing maneuvers on one of the terraces. She watched, fascinated, as lines of figures marched back and forth. From here they didn’t look so different from when she’d grown up in Vane, seeing her father’s troops practice. Only most of these weren’t from a warrior bloodline and raised on stories about their valorous ancestors, they were casteless. And the poles in their hands weren’t spears, but rather the incredibly deadly Fortress weapons.
Though they had trained with them according to the instructions Ratul had left behind for Keta, they had only been able to actually fire their devices a few dozen times. Since the rods were so loud, Ashok was worried about the echoes catching the keen ear of any Protectors who might be nearby. So they had waited until the summer storms had begun to move through the mountains, and then they joined in during the thunder. Even those brief displays had been rather impressive, and though most of them missed, a volley of lead balls was still sufficient to obliterate their targets.
The rest of the time the gunners, as Ratul had called them, practiced moving, pretending to load and fire their devices, per the commands of their newly obligated commander, Gupta, who had once been a miner in Jharlang. Ashok had picked the worker for that duty, because in his words, Gupta has no respect for traditional ways so will not mind violating them, as well as a great desire to cause destruction. It had seemed odd to her that Ashok would choose a worker for a warrior’s rank, but Ashok didn’t really see the Fortress rods as proper weapons anyway. They were simply machines that performed a task. Who better to manage machines than a worker?
Regardless, Gupta seemed remarkably well suited for the assignment, and the workers and casteless beneath him seemed eager to put their marvelous devices to the test.
Gupta hadn’t been their only promotion. Since their number of able-bodied men had grown into an actual, respectable force, they needed leadership and supervision. Ashok had given the infantry to Eklavya, Shekar their skirmishers, then named three new risaldars. The already-mentioned Gupta, Toramana was given the archers, most of whom were his loyal Wild Men anyway, and Ongud would command their cavalry. Some of them lacked in experience, and Ashok worried that he might have promoted them beyond their capabilities, but each was still the best choice possible.
Thera mostly considered herself a figurehead, but she’d grown up in the house of Andaman Vane, genius tactician and legendary war leader. She knew what real warriors looked like. She’d come to know each of those fanatically dedicated men and approved of Ashok’s picks. When the Law came for them, they would do. If the Cove was besieged, they could hold out for a very long time. Even if the tunnel was dry, it was a chokepoint that could be easily blocked. Their greatest danger was from above. Sikasso was more than likely dead, but she’d seen what his people could do. A handful of wizards could fly in one night and effectively decapitate the entire rebellion.
It was odd, that even in a peaceful, contemplative moment, her thoughts turned toward their inevitable destruction at the hands of the Law.
There was some commotion on the rim. Someone was running and waving their arms. It was too far away to hear, but she had the impression they were shouting.
Ashok stirred awake next to her. “The spotters have seen someone camped in the valley below.”
She marveled how even while asleep, he was more alert than a longtime criminal. “Someday you will have to tell me how you can hear so well.”
“You know I cannot.” Ashok sat up and squinted toward the rising sun. “They’re saying it’s our expedition Keta sent to purchase supplies, returned. They’re going to drain the tunnel to let them in.” He reached over and began gathering up his clothing.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ll be there when they arrive to make sure it really is our people coming back, and not assassins.”
“It’ll take hours for the lake to go down. No one is pestering either of us yet. It’s a beautiful morning. There’s no need to rush off. Slow down and appreciate life, Ashok. There will surely be another crisis for you to worry about soon enough. Stay. Enjoy the morning with me.”
“I already enjoyed the evening with you.”
Even a woman who spoke on behalf of the gods could blush. “That you did. It’s just that…”
“What?” he asked, genuinely concerned.
Thera tried to find the right words. “A feeling is all.”
“The Voice?”
“No, nothing like that. It’s been quiet. There’s something else though. I had a dream last night, nothing prophetic mind you. The gods haven’t had anything to say since they showed me the pattern to stop the plague, this was just an uneasy dream. I can’t even really remember what happened in it, but it left me with a feeling that all this? It’s about to change.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.” Though obtuse to the subtle ways most amorous couples communicated, Ashok was a straightforward sort, so she’d found the best thing to do was just be direct with him. “And that scares me.”
“Then I will stay as long as I can.”
She leaned into him. Human affection was an unfamiliar thing for Ashok, and it still didn’t come naturally to him, yet he put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. He didn’t even seem
to notice the scar there that had changed her life.
Funny. Thera rarely thought of the bolt from heaven as changing her life. She usually thought of it as ruining her life. But today, briefly, it hardly seemed ruined at all.
“I don’t want things to change, Ashok. I’d spend the rest of my life here with you if I could.”
The man who’d had nothing except his oath to live for, surprised her then by saying, “I would like that too.”
Perhaps there was some romance in Ashok Vadal after all.
✧ ✧ ✧
The news from the outside world was dire.
Half the men Javed had dispatched had returned, ashen faced and shaken. The three who made it back had been born of the worker caste. The other three had been casteless. They had not been so lucky. Despite the different stations of their birth, they had all been united, brothers in the faith, dedicated to Keta’s vision. The paltan of warriors who had come upon them on the plains had not cared when the workers claimed these casteless were their property, and their labor necessary for the survival of their settlement. The orders were clear. The Law had spoken. And the casteless had been dragged from the supply wagons and hacked to pieces, as their worker friends had watched, helpless.
Keta listened to the horrifying tale unfold. He was sick to his stomach. It had been he who had ordered their mission. It had been Javed’s idea, but Keta was the one ultimately responsible for sending those freemen to their doom…But that wasn’t all. Oh no, the situation was much worse than that.
“The extermination’s not just a few places like before. As far as these warriors knew, it was all over the northern half of Akershan. They’re killing all the casteless. We saw smoke plumes across the plains, ’twas gray homes burning.”
All of the rebellion’s leaders had gathered in the chapel to hear the report. They were sitting in a circle and exchanged nervous glances as the tale continued.
“When the warriors attacked the casteless in the spring, it was in small groups. Not no more. Now the warriors go about in great big groups, hundreds of men from place to place, because they’re scared of the Sons of the Black Sword coming after them. And before, most of the warriors were happy to let the casteless who ran off get away. If they crossed into the next province, it weren’t those warriors problem no more. Now, they kill all the casteless, and look beneath every basket and bushel for them hiding. And any who try to get away, they run them down. We saw them crushing women and children beneath their horses’ hooves with our own eyes!”
Destroyer of Worlds Page 35