Son of the Black Sword

by Larry Correia

  BOOM!

  Part of the hillside disappeared in a spreading cloud of dirt. Thunder rolled across the checkpoint. The young warrior jumped back and crashed against one of their wagon wheels, covering his face as bits of rock and bark rained from the sky. The oxen lurched forward, bellowing in consternation.

  “What was that?” the nayak screamed.

  BOOM!

  The second blast was just as big as the first. Whatever Thera had ignited on that hillside was rather impressive.

  “Vadal battle wizards!” Keta pointed at the hillside as debris pelted their canvas. “Come to kill us all!”

  A noxious gray smoke was rolling through the checkpoint. It burned the eyes and stung the throat. Within seconds Ashok could barely see past the oxen.

  The warrior drew his sword and exclaimed, “Get out of here. We’ll stop these bastards!”

  Keta snapped the ropes hard. “Yah!” The oxen heaved and strained and the cart started forward.

  They rolled through the stinking haze. Soldiers were running to engage the imaginary foe. There was some swearing and exclamations as untouchables and warriors both had to get out of the way of their oxen before being trampled. Ashok smiled. Every man had his place, but eighteen-hundred-pound beasts of burden didn’t care what anyone’s social status was.

  Bowstrings thrummed as archers fired at shadows on the hillside. The risaldar was doing a very good job organizing a counterattack against their imaginary foes. A merchant’s wagon not paying its toll was the least of their worries. They were most of the way through the encampment before Thera reappeared and caught the back of their moving wagon. She sprang up onto the boards and ducked under their canvas.

  “How long will that smoke last?” Ashok asked.

  “Not long.”

  Keta thumped the oxen again, not that the frightened beasts needed much motivation to get away from the thunder.

  “What was in the jugs?” Ashok demanded.

  “Fortress alchemy.” Thera was breathless, flushed and excited. “This mix looks like coal dust but blows up like a volcano. Everything it sticks to burns and makes that nasty smoke.”

  He’d figured as much. Ashok had never dealt with such things himself, but some of his brothers had. They’d faced terrible fire and thunder, capable of ripping through armor like it was cloth. Between their strange powers and their island’s location, Fortress was the only place in Lok that had never bowed to the forces of the Law. “Witchcraft.”

  Thera laughed. She was actually enjoying herself. “It’s ground-up stink rock and salts and bird shit. There’s nothing magical about it.”

  “Witchcraft . . .” he muttered to himself again.

  Keta saw Ashok’s dark expression. “Did you have to kill any of those innocent warriors today, Protector?”

  “No,” he had to admit. “No, I didn’t.”

  It wasn’t until later that Ashok realized that Keta had called him by his old title.

  * * *

  They’d not seen a warrior for hours. The roads had been empty as clouds had rolled in and a light rain had begun to fall. The slow bump and sway of their wagon gave them time to talk.

  “So, you’re the priest’s bodyguard?”

  “Something like that,” Thera answered.

  Ashok appreciated economy of speech as much as the next man, but she’d not answered his question. With nothing better to do, and many long miles ahead of them, Ashok decided to try again. “It seems strange to hire a woman to guard a man.”

  She was still trying to be evasive. “There’s more to keeping someone safe than swinging a sword. I know my way around and I know the right people.”

  “Meaning you willingly associate with criminal scum,” Ashok meant it more as a statement than an accusation, but Thera stiffened. She was sitting next to Keta on the driver’s bench. It was hard to tell since every time he’d seen her she’d been wearing a cloak, hood, and scarves, but she appeared to be tall and strong for a woman, but even then, a very strong woman could be physically overpowered by an average man. Keta was a priest, and priests were supposed to be important. This rebellion couldn’t have lasted as long as it did if they were stupid. “Do you have any other witchcraft?”

  “So anything you don’t understand is witchcraft? Then I’ve nothing of note to you, Inquisitor.” The way she spat the word left no doubt as to her feelings about that Order. Their methods were harsh and unforgiving, but there was no room for error when dealing with treason or forbidden magic.

  “I was never an Inquisitor.”

  “But you killed people on their behalf.”

  Ashok didn’t dignify that with a response. Of course he had. That had been his obligation.

  “She’s more dangerous than she looks,” Keta supplied. “And I don’t just mean the alchemy.”

  He couldn’t tell if Keta was complimenting her because women were supposed to enjoy that sort of attention, and though the priest had tried to hide it, Ashok had seen earlier that he was genuinely concerned for her, or maybe Keta was being sincere and she actually was dangerous. Ashok decided to push her as a test. “She has no real magic and can’t fight. What good is she?”

  Ashok was riding in the back with the cargo, so for a moment couldn’t tell if it was the oxen or the woman who snorted, and then he decided it was the woman. “I’ll tell you, Ashok, I like to let the well-muscled fools like you stand there and hack each other to bits while I hang back and look nonthreatening. I prefer surprise—” Thera spun and lashed out with one hand. The knife flashed, flicking end over end. It would have stuck into the barrel next to him, making for an impressive display, except Ashok effortlessly snatched the knife out of the air before it could reach its target.

  Thera was surprised by the inhuman reflexes. Her mouth hung open, and that expression gradually turned into a frown. “So much for getting the drop on the likes of you.”

  He tested the balance of the little blade. It was more of a spike, sharpened on each end, and heavy enough to cause a serious puncture wound at close range. He wouldn’t want to catch one in the skull. “Very nice. I’ve been told the warriors of the Ice Coast like to play games with these.” Then he tossed it back.

  Thera caught it and quickly hid the spike inside one of her voluminous sleeves. “More practical than darts and keeps the forts free of vermin. A running rat is a much harder target than a man’s throat.”

  “So you were born of the warrior caste.” No house sent their women off to fight unless they were extremely desperate, but that didn’t mean their women didn’t know how to. It fell to the warrior caste’s women to protect their lands from raiders when most of the men were off raiding other houses. So Thera would have at least had had some training, and depending on the house’s traditions and her teachers, she might even be useful in a battle. “Good.”

  “I didn’t say I couldn’t fight. I’m just not an idiot about it. The last time some bandits threatened our good Keeper here, I pretended to be his wife and scared out of my wits. I let their leader drag me off by the hair thinking he’d have his way with me, but it doesn’t matter how much stronger you are when the knife you didn’t see cuts off your cock.”

  “True.” Keta shuddered. “Seeing that unnerved me, and I was a butcher.”

  “Then we dropped the other two while they were distracted by his screaming,” Thera proclaimed, obviously proud of her work. “If my enemy sees me coming, then I’ve not done my job.”

  In combat you needed to work with your strengths and avoid your weaknesses. Thera was pragmatic. Ashok approved of such philosophy. “You must have belonged to a house once. Why would you leave it to become a lawbreaker?”

  “If I wanted to be interrogated I’d turn myself over to the Inquisition.”

  “I’m sure they’d enjoy that, but you don’t seem naïve enough to believe in these fools’ false gods.”

  “False?” Keta sputtered. “They were real enough to guide us to you in time to save your ungrateful life!”


  Thera laughed. “Calm down, Keeper. You’ll spook the oxen.” She turned back again, this time with a malicious gleam in her eye. “I’m not insulted, but as for the Forgotten? Keta will talk your ears off on the subject if you let him, but I pay him no mind. I don’t believe in such things.”

  Perhaps it was the flick of her eyes to the side as she said it, or something else that gave it away, but she was lying to him. He had interrogated far too many criminals not to sense it. He just wasn’t sure if she was lying to him or to herself on this particular topic, so he let it go. “Then why join with the rebels?”

  “I’m not inclined to believe in things I can’t see with my own eyes, but this invisible god’s rebellion has money to spend, and money buys power.”

  “And what does power buy?”

  “Revenge.” Then Thera paused, scowling, as if she’d realized she’d said far too much. She turned her attention back to the road.

  Keta was studying her as well with a strange look on his face, and those were emotions that Ashok couldn’t decipher. But Keta composed himself and said, “Personally, I believe the best thing power can buy is freedom . . . What do you say, Ashok? With that sword of yours you’ve got more power than any of us. What do you hold dear enough to purchase with it?”

  Ashok had no answer.

  Chapter 34

  Ashok lay on his blanket, looking up at the clear night sky and its millions of stars. The others thought he was asleep, but in truth he was eavesdropping on Keta and Thera’s whispered conversation. The two of them were on the far side of the wagon, out of range of normal hearing, but with the Heart of the Mountain aiding him could still make out their words over the crack and pop of their fire.

  “Are you certain?”

  “Yes,” Keta hissed. “In the heat of the moment, Ashok mentioned having orders. I’m surprised you didn’t catch that.”

  “I was a little preoccupied trying to pick out the right jugs. It isn’t like we label our contraband, and some of those detonate the second they catch fire. Blowing myself to pieces might have still made a great distraction for you two, but for me that plan had a few drawbacks . . . What kind of orders?”

  There was a long pause. Ashok assumed Keta was shrugging or giving a perplexed look.

  “I’ll tell you what his orders probably are,” Thera stated. “Destroy the rebellion. Bring back the prophet’s head in a sack . . . Don’t look at me like that, Keeper, you know I’m right.”

  “But the Voice of the Forgotten was clear—”

  “Clear?” Thera raised her voice in anger, then quickly lowered it so that Ashok wouldn’t hear. Not that it mattered, though she had no way of knowing that. “There’s nothing clear about that thing. Assuming the Voice isn’t just the result of some crazed fit from an addled mind—”

  “Thera, please,” he pleaded. “I’ve heard it. If you could hear it yourself, you’d know too. Don’t let the words of the doubters shake your faith.”

  “So let’s say you’re right, and it is the Forgotten taking hold and speaking. It didn’t come out and call Ashok by name. If you’re wrong, you’re endangering everything you’ve accomplished in Akershan. You’ve created something great. True or not, the people listen to you, and they’re changing the world. Are you really going to lead a monster right through the front door to threaten everyone you love?”

  “I will keep you safe,” Keta vowed.

  For some reason, despite knowing it was correct to maintain every tactical advantage, listening in on this particular conversation made Ashok feel dishonest. He tracked the path of the smaller moon, Upagraha. The small bright dot moved leisurely along its regular nightly trajectory as Ashok waited through their awkward silence.

  Thera sighed. “He’s not taking orders from the Forgotten, Keta, but he’s certainly taking them from someone. I’m not saying we have to kill him or anything like that, but the next city we reach, it would be really easy to just disappear. Ashok would never find us. Then we can go where the Inquisition can’t catch us. No more of their castes, no more of their Law . . . You’ve carved out a home, why not go back?”

  “How long will that home survive, Thera? The Law will never rest until it has control of everything. It can’t abide even a taste of freedom. We’ve drawn the Capitol’s ire, and they’ll find our people eventually. The Voice can guide our spirits, but it falls to us to protect our flesh and blood. We need a general to lead our rebellion or we will fail. Finding him is my responsibility. Mine.”

  “You’re blinded by your own stubborn belief. If you’re not going to listen to me, why should I even bother being here? Maybe I’ll just sneak off at the next town and leave you and the Protector to continue on your merry journey. Then when he slaughters all of you like pigs, it won’t be on my head.”

  “You can’t. The rebellion needs you. I need you. You’re too important. You may doubt the gods, Thera, but they believe in you.”

  “If we’re both so special, then maybe I should wait until you aren’t paying attention, then set another one of those Fortress bombs on fire and roll it over to Ashok’s bedroll. Then we’ll see which one of us your gods believe in more.”

  Before his fall, he wouldn’t have cared what they thought of him. For some reason, now they actually mattered. Plus, Ashok didn’t like the idea of being blasted into a cloud of bloody chunks in his sleep. It was time to deal with this foolishness. He got up, walked around the wagon, and approached the campfire. The two conspirators were sitting next to each other, wrapped in wool blankets to stay warm.

  Thera saw him coming. “You’re awake.”

  Keta couldn’t help but look guilty. “We were just—”

  “Talking. Yes.” Ashok sat on another fallen log and studied his companions. “About my orders.”

  They shared an uneasy glance. Thera shifted beneath the blanket, probably to put a hand on one of her many concealed knives. “Oh?”

  “I like your bomb idea. Pragmatic, but unnecessary.” Ashok forced himself to smile, but from their reaction that actually made things worse, so he stopped. “You are correct. I was given orders as punishment for my crimes, but I am forbidden from ever speaking of them.”

  “Convenient,” Thera said.

  “I keep my vows. On the barge I made an agreement with the Keeper, and I am just as bound by that agreement as any that came before. You have my word that I intend no harm to you, your compatriots, or your prophet. I will not expose you nor will I hinder your goals.”

  “That’s an easy thing to say,” Thera muttered.

  Ashok met her gaze and locked onto her eyes. “Do you doubt my word?”

  She didn’t look away. There was strength there. Very few people could stare down a Protector, but she watched him for a long time, surprisingly defiant. Finally she admitted, “No . . . I don’t.”

  “Good.” It made him wonder just what kind of life Thera had lived to be able to stand up to him like that. She was angry, but she’d found power in it. He continued looking at her until the wind shifted and the smoke stung his eyes. “If you don’t believe me, then use that knife you have in your hand and drive it into my heart now. I won’t stop you.”

  Keta cleared his throat. The Keeper had almost been forgotten in the exchange. “Ashok, may I ask—”

  “No.”

  “What do you intend to do when you meet the prophet?” Thera demanded.

  “Offer my allegiance. If accepted I will serve to the best of my abilities for the rest of my days.”

  “And if denied?”

  “Then I will leave my ancestor blade on the shore and wade into hell.”

  “For your sake, I hope the gods are less suspicious than I am.”

  “I’m certain that an inspired judgment will be made once we reach Akershan,” Keta interjected.

  Thera nodded slowly. “I’m sure it will.” Beneath the blanket, Ashok could tell that Thera let go of her knife.

  Ashok felt like they’d come to an understanding.

  Ch
apter 35

  It was a strange sensation being the bait in a trap, terrifying, yet exhilarating at the same time. As Rada walked through the busy streets of the Capitol, she knew she was being watched by Inquisitors. Rada would not have agreed to this if she’d not had complete faith in Devedas’ promise to keep her safe.

  The large man next to her was supposed to be her slave. His thick arms were loaded with books taken from the library, none of which were special or of any real value, but the men tailing her wouldn’t know that. All they would see is that the archivist they’d warned to remain silent was approaching the estate of the presiding judge in broad daylight, without having been summoned, carrying lots of evidence. Devedas had told her that the conspirators would assume the worst—that she was about to present the true report on the casteless question—and try to stop her. That had not been very reassuring.

  It was early morning. The streets were crowded this time of day, as everyone tried to get their business done before the desert became too hot. A network of massive aqueducts divided the Capitol into six different districts, and Rada was walking toward the richest one, where the estates made her father’s house look tiny and poor in comparison. By now the men following her would know that there was only one possible place she could be going and they would be prepared to act. Rada paused under the shade of a great stone wall to collect herself. If everything went according to plan, within a few moments someone would try to murder her.

  “Are you all right, Senior Archivist?” her slave asked.

  “I’m fine, Karno,” she assured the Protector. In humble gray robes and a wide straw hat, he was not nearly so intimidating as when they’d first met. He might not have been carrying that ridiculous hammer, but by the way he’d hauled such a heavy stack of books all this way without ever so much as the slightest sign of exertion or so much as a bead of sweat on his face, she could only assume he didn’t need a hammer to hurt anyone.