The Castes and the OutCastes: The Complete Trilogy

by Davis Ashura

  Rukh silently wished for the arrival of autumn's monsoon season even as he pressed a spyglass to an eye. He swore when a bead of stinging sweat dripped into it. As far as he was concerned, the monsoon season—though months away—couldn't arrive quickly enough. Not only would it provide a break from this unholy weather, but the rain would also slow whatever the Chimeras were doing out there on the plain.

  Rather than share in the wisdom of all the world's creatures—the ones who were waiting out the day's heat in cool shade—the Chimeras had chosen to spend their hours working as industriously and busily as ants. They chopped, hammered, and sawed a veritable forest of trees into strange structures, and Rukh wondered what they were.

  Jessira studied the situation as well and wore an identical expression of puzzlement as she set aside her spyglass. “Do you have any idea what they're doing?” she asked.

  Rukh shook his head. “None,” he answered.

  “Siege engines,” Li-Choke grunted.

  Rukh looked his way, perplexed. “What are siege engines?”

  Choke took the spyglass away from his eye. “Before Hammer, when the Fan Lor Kum attacked a city, we would bring these structures—rams, towers, and catapults—to breach a city's wall. I don't know how it was done—no one does,” the Bael said. “We had thought all accounts of how to build such structures—as well as how to attack a city with them—had been lost.”

  “Apparently someone remembered,” Marshal Ruenip Tanhue said. The commander of the expeditionary force against Suwraith's breeders looked relatively unchanged from when Rukh had last seen him. Maybe a little more gray and a few more wrinkles, but otherwise, Marshal Tanhue remained the tall, slim, strong warrior who had commanded the attack on the Chimera caverns two years ago.

  *Is there any chance we'll get to go swimming soon?* Aia complained.

  *It's too hot up here, and I'm bored,* Shon whined.

  Rukh glanced at the two Kesarins. Both lounged in the shade of a nearby battlement with tongues lolling out and looking miserable.

  *We'll be done soon,* Rukh replied, feeling pity for the cats. *We can go swimming then.*

  *You said that an hour ago,* Aia grumbled.

  Jessira smiled. *Hush,* she admonished.

  *You hush,* Aia huffed. *I'm hot. I'm thirsty. And I'm bored.*

  *We'll be done soon,* Rukh promised once again.

  Marshal Tanhue looked his way. “Is there something wrong?” he asked.

  Rukh shook his head. “It's just the Kesarins complaining about the heat.”

  *You would complain too if you had fur,* Shon muttered.

  Marshall Tanhue muttered something under his breath about spoiled, overgrown house cats before turning to Choke. “Do you recognize any of the Baels?” the Marshal asked him. “The one with the red feathers. He should be the SarpanKum, right?”

  Choke nodded before looking through his spyglass.

  “I thought you said all the Baels had been killed,” Jessira said.

  Choke shrugged. “I thought so as well, but it seems I was wrong.” He hissed a moment later, and his spyglass began darting about, focusing on various Baels.

  “What is it?” Tanhue demanded.

  “The one with the red feathers, the SarpanKum—he isn't Li-Shard. He isn't even Li-Brind, the SarpanKi. He's Li-Boil, my VorsanKi. He was the second-in-command of my Shatter.” Choke frowned in consternation.

  “But what does that mean for us?” Rukh asked, trying to make sense of what had Choke so agitated.

  “The one wearing the feathers of the SarpanKi is Li-Torq, Boil's crèche-mate,” Choke explained.

  “How did your VorsanKi become the SarpanKum? Did he kill Shard and take his place?” Jessira asked.

  “Would this Boil really be capable of murdering his commanding officer?” Rukh asked, sounding surprised.

  Choke didn't answer at first. Instead, his spyglass darted about as he appeared to search out individual Baels. Eventually, he sighed in disappointment and disbelief. He looked crushed. “Yes. He could have killed Li-Shard,” he said in answer to Rukh. “Boil barely believed in fraternity. He always sought the easy path for his life's salvation, and too many of the Baels I see down there thought much like him.”

  “You're sure about this?” Rukh asked.

  Choke nodded. “The brothers who were the most faithful to Hume's teachings—none of them are down there,” he said with a snarl. Anger replaced his earlier grief. “They're all likely dead because those Baels down there chose the path of evil.”

  “That's a lot of supposition and guessing,” Jessira said.

  “It's also likely the truth,” Choke replied.

  Tanhue stared at the Bael with an enigmatic expression before turning away. He stared out at the field through his spyglass and said nothing.

  Rukh knew the Marshal doubted Choke's words.

  “He speaks the truth as he knows it,” Jessira said into the noiselessness.

  The Marshal sighed. “Even if I accept that, it changes nothing.”

  “It changes everything,” Jessira said in disagreement. “If Choke is right about the nature of this Li-Boil, then that is a far different commander we'll be facing compared to a Bael like Li-Shard.”

  “What do you mean?” the Marshal asked.

  “Shard would have led the Chims in a way guaranteed to maximize their losses and minimize ours. If Li-Boil is the kind of Bael Choke describes, he won't. He'll lead the Chimeras with competence.”

  The Marshal cursed. “Just what we need,” he muttered.

  “I don't recognize that Bael talking with Boil,” Choke said.

  Li-Grist gazed upon Ashoka's impressive fortifications and felt hope. Even from a distance, he could see the many catapults and ballistas upon the battlements that were undoubtedly manned by the city's famed warriors. Grist nodded in satisfaction. Even if the two or so Plagues gathered beyond Ashoka's walls were led with competence—which would not be the case—they would not find it easy to penetrate such stout bulwarks. Grist almost grinned. As they had since Hammer's fall, the Baels would maintain morality and justice by subverting Mother's wicked will.

  He glanced at the camp of the Eastern Plague. It was a riot of movement, sound, and dust. Balants, Braids, Ur-Fels, and Tigons rushed about in a state of harried hurry. The smell of cut wood overwhelmed all scents, and sawdust clogged the air. Grist's nose itched, and he sneezed.

  Just what were the Chimeras constructing? What were they doing with all those strange wooden buildings?

  A flash of red caught Grist's attention. It had been the flash of red feathers denoting the SarpanKum. Grist turned to face the Bael he had been expecting to meet, Li-Shard, the brilliant commander who had likely done more to further the ideals of fraternity than any Bael in history. Grist frowned as the SarpanKum came closer. He was older than Grist had expected. Li-Shard was said to be young for his rank, as young as a Levner, but this Bael looked to be as old as a veteran Vorsan. Grist shrugged and disregarded the oddity as Shard arrived.

  “It is good to meet the Bael whose plan set Mother's schemes back for decades,” Li-Grist offered in greeting.

  Shard gave him a cursory examination before breaking into a self-deprecating smile. “I wish I were as brave and honorable as the one of whom you speak,” he said. “Sadly, Li-Shard and his SarpanKi, Li-Brind, along with many of our brethren were killed several days past. It was on the day when Shard's plan bore fruit. She knew it had been he who had seen Her breeders destroyed. She came to us in a fury, demanding the death of all our brothers.”

  Grist nodded and his head drooped in sorrow. Shard's end wasn't unexpected, but it still stung to know that such a great Bael had been cut down so young.

  “I am Li-Boil,” the unfamiliar Bael introduced himself. “And you must be Sarpan Li-Grist, once of the Northern Plague of Continent Catalyst, but now assigned to the Eastern Plague of Continent Ember.”

  Grist tilted his head in surprise at the other Bael's knowledge of him.

&nbs
p; “Your broken horn,” Boil explained with a smile. “All of us know the story of your battle with the coral buffalo.”

  Grist shifted in embarrassment. “It is a story I would rather forget,” he said. “The stupid beast thought I meant to steal his cow.”

  Boil laughed. “Regardless, welcome to the Eastern Plague of Continent Ember.” His smile faded. “Your Chimeras are arriving rather later than I expected.”

  “The hills and forests slowed our progress to a crawl,” Grist replied with a grimace.

  “We had the same issue,” Boil said, “but Mother cleaved a path for us so we could arrive more quickly.” The SarpanKum hesitated. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

  “Please do.”

  “How did you survive Mother's wrath?” he asked, his expression intense and curious. “We only did so by killing a number of our brothers and pretending we had ferreted out traitors to Mother's cause.” Boil shuddered. “She was foolish enough to believe our ruse.”

  “You killed Shard and the others?” Grist asked, confused as to what Boil's admission meant.

  Boil wore an unhappy frown. “It was Shard's plan. When we sensed Mother's anger, he told us what he had done and what had to be done. Until then, only he and the SarpanKi knew of the plan to destroy the breeding caverns.”

  Grist nodded in understanding. “I only knew the vaguest outline of what Li-Deem, my SarpanKum, intended. He planned on destroying the northern breeding caverns while also sending a number of Baels and Bovars to Hanuman and Kush. They were to have begged for sanctuary in the name of this new Human hero, Rukh Shektan.”

  Boil's eyes narrowed. “Was the plan to send Baels and Bovars to Hanuman and Kush successful?”

  Grist shrugged. “I had already arrived on Continent Ember when that portion of the plan was to have been executed.” He returned his gaze to Boil, and his hold on his trident involuntarily tightened. “Why did you kill Shard?” he demanded.

  “As I said, it was Li-Shard's plan,” Boil began. “After what he and the other SarpanKums did, he said that the only way for the Baels to survive Mother's retribution would be to kill all the high-ranking brothers. We were to then tell Her that we had discovered treason amongst the senior commanders and, as a result, had killed them for their betrayal.”

  A brave, courageous plan from a bold, worthy Bael. Grist lifted his face to the heavens and offered a silent prayer for the fallen SarpanKum.

  “Now, what of you?” Boil asked. “How did you survive?”

  “Mother came to us, the same day that Shard's plan unfolded,” Grist said. “She said that if we didn't level Ashoka, She would eradicate the Baels for all time.”

  Boil smiled just then, seeming happy. “Then you understand our predicament.”

  Grist nodded, discomfited by the intense expression worn by the SarpanKum. The older Bael looked . . . hungry. Sweat suddenly broke out on Grist's forehead. It had nothing to do with the humid heat. “We have to help Mother level Ashoka,” he began carefully. “But if we do, then we would be authors of the inconceivable. Instead, we should hold tight to what we know is true and pray for Devesh's comfort.”

  Boil's smile held frozen on his face, and his hungry look faded. “Exactly,” he said a moment later.

  Grist tried to put the SarpanKum's somewhat odd attitude from his mind and stared toward Ashoka. “Did Shard send Baels and Bovars to the city?” he asked.

  “If he did, they likely weren't granted entrance into Ashoka,” Boil replied. “Just as the Baels begging for sanctuary in Hanuman were likely cut down, I imagine any of our brothers sent to Ashoka were killed out of hand. The Humans don't believe in fraternity as we do.”

  Grist hoped the SarpanKum was wrong.

  Jessira frowned when she saw the SarpanKum speak to a Bael who had horns festooned with a number of white feathers. It meant he was a Sarpan, the leader of a Dread. Jessira set aside her spyglass and chewed the inside of her cheek. “Do you recognize the Sarpan?” she asked Choke. She pointed him out.

  Choke gazed through his spyglass and grunted. “He is likely Li-Grist. Shard told me he had been sent to accompany the Chimeras that Mother sent west from Continent Catalyst.”

  “Are you sure it's him and not some other Bael who took over like you claim this Li-Boil did?” Marshal Tanhue asked.

  “It's him,” Choke answered. “His right horn is pitted and the last foot of it is broken off. According to Shard, Grist earned the scar in battle with a coral buffalo.” Choke frowned just then.

  “What is it?” Rukh asked.

  “The postures between Grist and Boil”—Choke gestured to the Baels—”I don't believe they like one another. It's evident in the stiffness of their postures and the angle of their horns.”

  The marshal rubbed his chin in thought. “If this Sarpan doesn't like Boil, that could be a good thing for us,” he noted before turning to Choke. “What do you know about this Grist?”

  “He is said to be devout in his piety and a clever commander,” Choke replied. “Beyond that . . .” The Bael shrugged.

  “If he's devout, then why isn't he dead like the rest of the Baels are supposed to be?” the marshal asked, studying the far-off Bael through his spyglass.

  “I couldn't say,” Choke said with a huff of frustration.

  Rukh turned to Choke. “What was the threat Suwraith used against you when She forced you to go to Hammer?”

  “She promised to kill all the Baels and all the Bovars if I disobeyed Her.”

  Jessira's eyes rounded in speculation. “Then if that is Li-Grist the Pious . . .”

  “I said he is devout in his piety,” Choke complained. “I didn't mean that was his title.”

  “Of course,” Jessira accepted with an amused smile. “At any rate, maybe Grist and his Baels from Continent Catalyst were faced with the exact same threat that you were.”

  “Then maybe we should show them the Bovars?” Rukh continued, picking up on her thoughts. “Who knows how they'll react if they know their race isn't doomed.”

  The Marshal smiled in satisfaction. “I like that idea,” he said, before calling out orders to a nearby aide.

  “The Bovars are penned in a nearby field,” Choke said. “It should not take long to bring a few of them up here.”

  *Good. After they're brought up here, can we go swimming in their watering hole while you waste away the afternoon?* Aia asked.

  *Only if you promise to behave,* Jessira said.

  Shon sighed. *We will,* he replied as he padded over and pressing his forehead against Jessira's chest. *Why don't you ever trust us?*

  Jessira chuckled and rubbed her Kesarin's chin.

  Aia, on the other hand, rose regally from her lazy, laid-back position with a back-arching stretch. She took a few steps toward Rukh and sat down in front of him with her tail wrapped neatly before her front paws. She blinked.

  Rukh rubbed her chin.

  *Better,* Aia murmured, sounding content.

  Marshall Tanhue had watched all this with a look of bewilderment before he finally shook his head in disbelief and turned to Li-Choke. “We'll bring up a dozen Bovars, and then we'll send up a signal flare, one that will have every Bael staring up at us.”

  Li-Grist walked back to his camp with head bent in disquiet. The Chimeras of the Eastern Plague rushed about raising these weapons of war that Mother had tasked them to build. The use of the structures would take time to master, but it wasn't the challenge ahead that had the Sarpan feeling uneasy.

  Instead, it was the off-putting affect of the new SarpanKum, Li-Boil. He had a strangeness to him, an oddness to his demeanor. He smiled too widely when pleased and frowned too deeply when unhappy. Worse, had Grist not known better, he would have guessed that Boil had been happy at the prospect that no Baels had been offered sanctuary in Ashoka.

  “What was Shard like?” asked Li-Drill, the SarKi, the second in command of the Dread.

  Grist pulled up short. He had been so focused on his thoughts that he hadn't
even noticed the approaching Baels of his Dread. With Drill were several of the Vorsans: Li-Jull, Li-Meld, and Li-Cord. They waited expectantly for Grist's response.

  “It wasn't Shard,” Grist said, going on to explain what had happened to the Baels of the Eastern Plague of Continent Ember.

  “And Li-Boil, the new SarpanKum, what do you think of him?” Li-Jull, one of the Vorsans, asked.

  Grist worked to keep the frown from his face. The Baels of the Catalyst Dread should form their own opinion of Boil. They shouldn't have it tarnished by his uneasy assessment. Anything less would be unfair to the new SarpanKum. After all, his own opinion of Boil might be tainted by the disappointment of knowing that Shard was dead.

  “He is a Bael we will all need to get to know better,” Grist answered.

  “That's not much of an answer,” said Li-Cord, another Vorsan.

  “It's the only answer I can give,” Grist replied. “You need to form your own opinion of our brother.”

  The other Baels fell into a thoughtful silence, apparently understanding Grist's unspoken concerns.

  The Sarpan mentally sighed. He hadn't intended for his brother commanders to think poorly of the new SarpanKum without first meeting him.

  “What about Li-Choke?” asked Li-Meld, the oldest of them. “Did he survive Mother's wrath?”

  Grist shook his head. “Boil believes that the Baels and Tigons—”

  Drill barked laughter. “It still defies belief that a Tigon—of all creatures—learned and accepted the beauty of fraternity,” he said. “And that both were able to claim the friendship of two Humans.”

  “It wasn't just one Tigon, either,” Cord added. “According to Shard's missives, this Chak-Soon had an entire claw of Tigons who thought as he did.”

  “It is a miracle,” Meld intoned.