by Davis Ashura
Rukh suppressed his anger and instead leaned back on the habits of a lifetime of training, of how to respond when speaking to a superior officer. “I understand, sir,” he replied, speaking in a clipped, even tone as he responded to the lieutenant’s previous statement.
“Glad to see you still have some sense,” Lieutenant Danslo said, his hand slowly lifting from the hilt of his sword. “I have new orders for you. We’re still too far out from the caverns to be certain of the numbers we might face. We need to know the makeup of their defending force.”
“Yes sir.”
“This close to the caverns, we’re not sending the scouts too far ahead of the main column. Only a few will be penetrating deep. You’re one of them. Scout as far ahead as you can. Confirm the caverns are where we think they are. Get us numbers on who and what we’ll be facing when we get there. Mark us a path to their doorstep.”
Rukh smirked. Where we think the caverns are? Fragging hell. Did the dumbass even know how stupid he sounded? Where did he think the information came from anyway?
“The expedition will be right behind you,” the lieutenant continued, apparently not caring about the expression of contempt on Rukh’s face. “The Marshall wants us on the march through the night and most of tomorrow. If we’re right, we…” there it was again, the ‘we’, “…should be in position to attack them tomorrow night. Kill them all in one fell swoop.”
“How many should I take with me?”
“You’re on your own. Less chance for the Chims to find us out that way.”
“Understood,” Rukh said, tonelessly. The lieutenant was sending him on a suicide mission. “Will I have time to eat before I head out?”
“Supper’s on the pot,” Danslo said uncaringly. “Have your fill.”
Rukh grabbed a bite to eat and restocked his supplies. Given the cook’s cool response when he had asked for food – the man looked like he wanted to spit in Rukh’s stew – it was probably better he was on his own anyway. He’d rather be killed by the Chims then by one of his own.
He also wrangled a fresh mount out of the sour-faced supply sergeant. Too bad the one he was given farted constantly. Smelly bastard. It seemed an apt metaphor for his life as it was now.
Jessira tied off the last knot. There. Her rucksack and supplies were ready. Tomorrow morning, she’d be leaving Ashoka and heading for home. It would be a rough trip, but she was confident she could make it. She had plenty of supplies, and a new bow to replace the one she had lost in the Flats. She even had a sword – better than her old one – and a brace of throwing knives. Her shoulder still bothered her, but it felt good enough. It was long past time to get going.
Though she would have to sleep outdoors on the hard ground and make do with bland trail food, given the alternatives, she wouldn’t have it any other way. She smiled. It would be good to feel the rough ground beneath her boots and see the stars of the unfiltered night sky. She looked forward to smelling something other than the press of Humanity. Rukh’s home was too dense and populous. Jessira paused in the organization of her supplies. She thought about the city she would be leaving in the morning. She realized with a start that she would miss it. Ashoka’s vibrancy, its life, not to mention the mouth-wateringly delicious food – all of it had been an eye-opening experience, and she was glad to have had it.
As she stacked her packs by the door to her room, she briefly wondered how Rukh and the expedition were doing. They’d left a few days ago, but before his departure, Rukh had still been angry with her. Or maybe not angry with her, but simply upset she had been so correct about Mira and Jaresh. Rukh hadn’t said she’d been right, but Jaresh’s sudden moodiness and general despondency as well as Mira’s absence from the seat of House Shektan had told Jessira all she needed to know. As a result, on the last day before Rukh left, relations between the two of them had been tense, and she regretted they couldn’t have departed from one another’s lives on better terms.
A knock on her open door, and a servant poked his head in, letting her know Rukh’s father wanted to talk to her in his study.
Jessira nodded acknowledgment and set aside her final pack. In the ‘El’s office, she found both Rukh’s nanna and amma. Both looked distinctly unsettled and unhappy. Satha, Rukh’s amma, had red eyes and her face was puffy, as if she had been crying.
“Can you delay your departure?” Dar’El asked without preamble.
Jessira closed the door to the study before answering. By their expressions, she knew something bad had occurred. She hoped it wasn’t the expedition or something to do with Rukh. Her heart began thudding in her chest. “What happened?” she asked, managing to keep her voice calm and level.
“The Chamber of Lords has seen fit to banish Rukh,” Satha Shektan spat, furious and anguished at the same time.
Jessira frowned, confused by what Rukh’s mother was saying. From her own perspective, she was actually relieved in a way. At least Rukh wasn’t dead, but whatever this expulsion meant, it had to be something terrible judging by Satha’s grief. Jessira looked to Dar’El for explanation.
“The Chamber of Lords is how the Houses decide what is best for Kumma society as a whole,” he said. “An emergency session was called today. Somehow, one of the ‘Els learned of Rukh’s new Talents.”
“It was that pig, Hal’El Wrestiva,” Sophy growled. “He was the one who brought it up. When I find out who told him, I will wring that person’s neck.”
“The Chamber has found Rukh to be Unworthy…”
“We should be grateful they didn’t mark him with the Slash of Iniquity,” Satha broke in.
“At any rate,” Dar’El said, continuing on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “The Chamber has decided Rukh can no longer be accepted in Kumma society.”
“It wasn’t their only reason,” Satha muttered angrily. She flashed an unfathomable look at Jessira before turning to stare out the windows and fold her arms across her chest.
Dar’El shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what their rationale,” he said. “The point is when Rukh returns from the expedition, he will not be allowed to step foot within the Oasis or join one of our caravans. He can try to make his way to some other place and hope they will accept him there, but it won’t happen. Once a man has been expelled, no other city will accept him.”
“But Stronghold will,” Jessira said, guessing the reason for this meeting. “That’s why you asked if I could delay my departure.”
Dar’El nodded. “How long can you wait before the snows close off the mountain passes to your city?”
“I can wait maybe another ten or eleven weeks, but it would be cutting it close.”
“If all goes well, they should be back by then,” Satha said. “Will you wait for him and take him with you?”
Jessira sat down. So much was coming at her at once. Something Satha had said, her expression…oh no. Jessira realized what Rukh’s amma had meant when she said there had been another reason for the Chamber’s decision. She felt sick. “It was because of me, wasn’t it? You said his new Talents weren’t the only reason for his expulsion. It’s because of the time he spent with me.”
Satha nodded. “Nothing was alleged but enough was implied.”
Jessira covered her face, appalled by what had happened to Rukh and her role in it. “I should never have gone with him to that play.”
“The play and dinner were fine since Bree was with you,” Satha said. “It was what came after, when Bree left. Your romantic evening stroll through Dryad Park was noticed and remarked upon. If I wasn’t so afraid for that stupid boy, I’d box his ears for what he’s done. The brainless fool!”
Dar’El looked angry as well. “Rukh can be so stupid sometimes. He never sees how his actions can appear to others. He’s blind to the obvious until it smacks him in his idiot face. The evening the two of you spent with one another could have been excused, but add in his Talents, and it became the final reason for the other ‘Els to expel him.”
Jessira slumped in
her chair. Her head fell forward as she stared at the floor. This was all her fault. It was what Dar’El and Satha knew to be true, but for some reason were too kind to say so. Jessira had been so selfish, demanding Rukh’s attention when she should have dealt with her loneliness on her own. If she had, tomorrow morning, she would have left Ashoka, and Rukh would have gone on to live his life as he would have wanted.
“I am furious with Rukh, but my anger doesn’t matter, and neither does yours,” Satha snapped at Dar’El. “We still need an answer from you, Jessira Viola Grey. Will you take our son to Stronghold?”
Jessira nodded. “Of course. I owe Rukh my life,” she said. “But you’re asking me to stay in Ashoka for the better part of three months. Where will I live?” She felt guilty thinking of herself at a time like this, but the question needed asking.
“Where else but here?” Dar’El asked, sounding surprised.
“What about Bree and Jaresh?”
“What about them?” Satha asked.
Jessira licked her lips in nervousness. “When they find out about Rukh’s expulsion, especially my role in it, they won’t be very happy. They’ll blame me. I’m surprised the two of you don’t.”
Satha laughed bitterly. “I wish I could blame you for this disaster, but Rukh wasn’t your responsibility. He was ours, and he’s become a victim to our House politics.”
“This is not House politics,” Dar’El growled. “It is war, and if it is war House Wrestiva wants, it is war I will give them. When I’m finished, House Wrestiva will be liquidated, and their ruling ‘El will be left impoverished and despised for his incompetence.”
Just then, seeing the hard, cold determination on his face, Jessira was certain Dar’El Shektan would try to do exactly that. It was an expression mirrored on the face of Satha Shektan. Jessira was suddenly glad Rukh’s parents weren’t her enemy.
“We’ll deal with Bree and Jaresh,” Satha said. “And we’ll make sure your time here won’t be unbearable. But the House seat is the safest place for you to stay until Rukh returns.”
Jessira nodded. “I’ll wait for him,” she said before leaving the study. Time to unpack. What a fool she had been. On her way up the stairs, she sent a silent prayer to Devesh. She prayed for Rukh’s safety and also that he would find a way to forgive her once he learned what had happened.
After Jessira left the study, Dar’El walked to the door and closed it behind her.
“Are you certain of this path?” Satha asked. “What if she learns the truth?”
Dar’El glanced at his wife. “Which truth? How we just manipulated her, or the near-certainty that Rukh would have been found Unworthy regardless of their night time stroll through Dryad Park?”
“Either.”
“Jessira will learn nothing, and even if she does, by then it will be too late. It’s already too late. Our course is set.”
Satha sighed. “I don’t like lying, but we do what we must.”
“Rukh’s fate was sealed the moment Rector Bryce learned of his new Talents. I severely misjudged the man,” Dar’El said with a grit of his teeth. He wasn’t sure if he was angrier with himself or with Bryce.
Satha grimaced. “Speaking of the Watcher, what do you intend to do about him?”
“He will pay for what he has done. He will pay the harshest price I can devise.”
“Bree?” Satha guessed. “He’s already lost her. She knows Rector’s actions in all this.”
“No,” Dar’El said. “Bryce will lose something he treasures far more deeply: his moral certitude.”
Satha shrugged. “As long as he learns never to cross this House,” she said. “And speaking of our daughter, has Bree forgiven you yet?”
Dar’El shook his head. “No. She hates her role in Rukh’s banishment, and she blames me for it.”
“Suggesting the walk in Dryad Park?”
“She immediately knew what would happen, but that’s not why she’s unhappy with me,” Dar’El said. “She’s convinced we should have told Rukh the truth.”
“About the politics of the Chamber?” Satha barked in laughter. “And then he would have told Jessira…”
“Who we wouldn’t then be able to guilt into taking him to Stronghold,” Dar’El finished for her. “And Rukh likely would have refused to join the expedition to the caverns. He would have stayed here in Ashoka, determined to fight the charges and would have instead been branded a coward. Yet another reason for the Chamber to find him Unworthy.”
“You still cling to that hope?” Satha asked, sounding surprised. “The possibility that Rukh’s actions with the expedition might be so extraordinary that the Chamber rescinds their decision?”
“It’s the only way I can see him one day returning home to us.”
“And if he dies?”
“Death is always a possibility in the Wildness.”
Satha didn’t answer. It was an old argument between the two of them. Instead, she stood and paced the room. “What a mess,” she said, rubbing her shoulders.
The room quieted.
“I’m going to tell him about the Book,” Dar’El said into the silence.
“The Book of First Movement?” Satha rolled her eyes. “Ever since you joined that stupid society…”
“The Rajans were the ones who told us…”
“I know about the Rajans,” Satha interrupted. “But we’ve manipulated our daughter, Jessira, and Rukh in order to grant him a future where he might be happy. And you want him to risk it all for some book no one has ever been able to read. Do you realize how dangerous such a journey will be?”
Dar’El suppressed his irritation. This was also an old argument. “The risks won’t be as great as you think,” he said. “Rukh is a Kumma who can Blend. If anyone can salvage the Book, it will be him.”
Satha didn’t reply. Instead, she seemed to scrutinize Dar’El. “You really think this Book is important enough to risk our son’s life over?”
Dar’El stared out the window. Risk his son’s life? Was anything worth such a price? The answer was obvious, but nevertheless, he hated voicing it. He hated having to make these decisions. Life would have been far easier if he could have remained a simple warrior, never becoming the ruling ‘El of House Shektan or joining the Rajans. Then these soul-twisting choices would have never been required of him. “When the Book fell into Raja’s hands two thousand years ago, he was opaque on so many items, but on the Book he was clear: it is our best hope to defeat Suwraith.”
Night cloaked the column as it wended its way along the shingle beach marking the eastern bank of the Slave River. The water funneled through a long, narrow canyon, hammering and roiling across heavy boulders and rocks in a steep descent before finally thundering over the Tripwire Falls a mile or so to the south. High cliffs extended north and south, enclosing the gorge in gloomy shadow even under a noonday sun. At night the darkness was stygian, with water-slick gravel and stones creating a high risk for a turned ankle. The expedition had to proceed carefully and quietly, even though the sound of pounding water helped disguise any noise the warriors might have made.
So far they had avoided detection, swiftly silencing any Chimera scouts and warriors who might have given warning. It was surprising how lightly defended the breeding caverns were. Hardly any Chims whatsoever, but there had been enough to ‘interrogate’ – and a bloody, awful mess it had turned out to be. From them, the Ashokans had gained a fairly accurate picture of the cave system they planned on invading. According to the Chims, the breeders were housed in large caverns, widely dispersed throughout the cave system and guarded by roughly five thousand of their fellows, just as Li-Dirge had said.
Five thousand Chimeras… On an open field, two thousand Ashokans could have easily taken them, but in the tight quarters of the tunnels and caves, it would be a painful, deadly slog. Kumma speed and power would count for so much less in such narrow confines.
And since a man could easily get lost in the confusing warrens, the Marshall had in
sisted each warrior be given a map of the caverns and tunnels. If anyone got separated from their unit, they had to have a way of getting out of there.
As for the plan of attack, there were three entrances to the caverns, and the Ashokans already held them, having quickly overwhelmed the small defending force of Chimeras. Now it was time for the rest of the warriors to get in there and get the job done. Marshall Tanhue had split his command into three equal columns of just under seven hundred men each. Rukh had been assigned to the unit tasked with entering the southernmost entrance.
“I can’t believe we’re going into those caves,” a warrior walking near Rukh murmured to a companion. “We have no idea what we’ll find in there.”
“We’ll be fine,” his friend replied. “That claw of Tigons and those traps of Braids we captured told us all we need to know.”
“You think we can trust the word of a Chim?”
“No, but they only told us what we already figured to be true, like the Baels all being dead,” the second warrior replied. “Or how the Sorrow Bringer killed all them horned bastards Herself and put the Tigons in charge. Just like the Shektan said.”
“You mean the Hume Champion. Can’t forget what a great warrior he is,” the first man said, a sneering tone to his voice. “Naaja bastard.” He spit to the side.
Rukh clenched his fists. He was about to speak up, but almost immediately, he swallowed any harsh words he might have said. What was the point? Even if he put a beatdown on those two, nothing would change. The others wouldn’t care. The casual slurs would continue.
At that moment, he wished he’d never been chosen for the expedition. As for the two men in question – a Muran and a Rahail – they had no idea who it was walking right next to them. It was the Tainted bastard himself. He supposed they thought he was just another Kumma.
“He is naaja,” the second warrior said. “But I wouldn’t rile him. Word is he’s tough as nails.” He glanced at his friend. “You hear how his lieutenant sent him scouting ahead without backup?”