A Warrior's Path (The Castes and the OutCastes)

by Ashura, Davis

  It was with these thoughts in mind that Rukh stretched and reached for the plate of food the warrior held. Only then did he realize who had brought his evening meal.

  “Lieutenant,” Rukh said, feeling stupid and suddenly unsure. What did Danslo want? He couldn’t be here on his own. One of the commanders must have either ordered him to bring Rukh his meal, or the man had lost a bet or something. Either way, he fleetingly wondered if the food would even be safe to eat. Poisoning was dishonorable, but so was sending someone on a suicide mission. But even Danslo – untrustworthy though he was – wouldn’t do something so insane. He had to know that Rukh was the only person standing between life and death for so many of the brothers.

  “Your supper grows cold, warrior,” the lieutenant said. “You should eat. Our brothers need your strength.”

  Rukh reached for the plate and canteen of water, not sure of Danslo’s motive.

  “I asked for the opportunity to bring you your evening meal so I could speak with you,” the lieutenant said. “I was wrong about you, and I guess I wasn’t alone, either. All of the warriors have treated you poorly, but we’ve also watched you. You fought through in the caverns, never giving up on your mission. And afterward, you’ve nearly killed yourself keeping our brothers alive. You’ve shamed us, and I’m speaking for all the men when I tell you this.”

  Rukh took a swallow of water, confused by the unreality of the whole situation. Danslo sounded surprisingly sincere. What could have changed the man’s opinion of him so completely?

  He was about to answer when the lieutenant spoke again. “For myself, I wish to apologize to you. The way I’ve treated you and spoken to you has been Unworthy and unforgiveable. But I have to ask: will you accept my most humble apology for all the ways I’ve wronged you? Will you allow me to stand with you once again as your brother, as all men should when we are on Trial?”

  Rukh didn’t know what to say. He knew what he wished he could tell the lieutenant, but the hurt was too near, and touched as he was by the lieutenant’s words, he didn’t have it in him to forgive what had been done. “Thank you for the food, lieutenant,” he said, unable to muster up anything kinder.

  “I understand,” Danslo said with a sad nod. “And thank you, Rukh Shektan. Devesh protect you.” The lieutenant stood, bowed briefly, and left.

  After the meeting, Rukh took a more careful note of the warriors and saw the respect in their eyes when they met his glance. He’d grown so used to their contempt and dislike that he never expected to see such an approving emotion on their faces when they looked at him. For the first time in weeks, he smiled.

  Perhaps there might be hope for him in Ashoka after all.

  The next morning, he learned just how fleeting his hope would prove to be.

  *****

  “Have you heard the news?” Varesea asked,

  The SuDin glanced up. He had been waiting for her in a new meeting place, the back room of a restaurant. Neither were masked. “What news?” he asked, wondering what could have Varesea looking so happy.

  “The expedition has returned. They were successful. The Chimera breeding caverns were exterminated. Not a single one of them escaped. It turns out the young Shektan was right.”

  The SuDin smiled broadly. “That is excellent news.” His plans, so delicately balanced, were now on much firmer footing and could thus proceed forward.

  “It is a shame about the Shektan,” Varesea said. “Everyone is singing his praises, even the Marshall. They say he was the reason the Shylows didn’t attack our warriors. Apparently, his story of befriending one of the great cats turned out to be true. They also say that during the battle, he was separated from his unit and had to fight his way out all alone, and when they searched the caves he had travelled, hundreds of Chimeras lay dead. And if that wasn’t courageous enough, after the battle, he was like a Shiyen. He apparently Healed the injured warriors, saving scores of them. They’re calling him a hero.”

  The SuDin sneered. “And I’m sure his father was the one to spread such rumors. The people will be led astray by any man with a sad and heroic seeming tale.”

  “You don’t think the Shektan is heroic?”

  “Of course he was heroic, but it doesn’t change the facts of the situation. The man is Kumma who can Blend and Heal. Even worse, he brought an adult ghrina to our city, a woman with whom he may have had an illegitimate relationship…”

  Varesea laughed. “Listen to yourself. Illegitimate. What are we then? We are ghrina just as much as him.”

  The SuDin scowled in irritation. “The point being, he still falls under society’s rules. The Shektan was properly judged. We, on the other hand, have chosen a different path, and our relationship is the least of the reasons for which we would be condemned.” Varesea said nothing, but he could feel her study him as he read the daily newssheet. “What?” he asked.

  “You fear him.”

  The SuDin smiled. Varesea could see the heart of the matter as no one else did. It was why he loved her. “I feared his blade. I saw the Tournament. A few more years and a little more seasoning, and he could have bested me even when I was young.”

  “Even as you are now?”

  “My power is far greater than it ever was, but, yes, even now, the Shektan would make a deadly opponent.”

  “Then it is good he can no longer threaten us.”

  “Indeed. And if the people cry out for Rukh Shektan’s return, let them,” he sneered. “Their petty wants and desires no longer concern us.”

  “Petty? How grand is your vision then?”

  The SuDin smiled again, this time more broadly. “With the destruction of the caverns, the Queen’s plans for Ashoka will have been set back by years, if not decades,” he said.

  “And we have the Withering Knife,” Varesea said, smiling in return. “We will have all the time we need to kill and kill again, until we are potent enough to challenge even Her.”

  “You see my plan then. For two millennia the world has lacked a First Father and First Mother. I plan on rectifying that mistake,” said Hal’El Wrestiva, SuDin of the Sil Lor Kum.

  *****

  Early in the morning, a day out from Ashoka, Rukh was ordered to see the Marshall. He was feeling happy and grateful because the scouts had just now brought back a score of Shiyen physicians along with enough wagons to transport the most severely injured warriors back to the city. The Shiyens had done quick triage on all the injured, clucking in amazement at some of the injuries the warriors had sustained and survived. When they learned it had been Rukh who had Healed the men, they gave him troubled glances and sidelong looks of uncertainty. Their reactions were actually pretty mild given how the warriors of the expedition had responded early on to his Talents.

  After the physicians left, Rukh wanted to slump over into an exhausted sleep, but he had to remain at parade rest. He was still in the presence of the Marshall.

  Tanhue poured two drinks, passing one to Rukh. It smelled like whiskey. “There’s something else I need to discuss with you, warrior,” the Marshall said, sitting down, suddenly looking weary and bitter. “You must have powerful enemies, son. They’ve been busy while we’ve been out in the Wildness.” He took a swig of his drink and sighed, looking saddened.

  Rukh stared into his glass of whiskey. Based on the Marshall’s words and attitude, it sounded like he would need the stiff drink. Their commander wasn’t the sort who was easily rattled. Rukh downed the whiskey, holding back a gasp at its fiery burn. He braced himself, prepared to hear what the Marshall had to say.

  “Suwraith’s spit. There’s no easy way to say this. Based on your new Talents and your association with a ghrina, the Chamber of Lords has deemed you Unworthy. You’ve been stripped of all rank and are hereby exiled from Ashoka and her Oasis, never to return on pain of death. None of her warriors can shelter you,” the Marshall said. “I’m so sorry about this,” he added a moment later.

  Rukh’s legs buckled, and he almost fell to the ground. He stared
unseeing past the Marshall. Only yesterday evening, after speaking with Lieutenant Danslo, hope – thin and uncertain – had blossomed in his heart. For a few, brief hours, he had thought his life might not become the miserable wreck he had assumed it was doomed to be. He had allowed himself to believe he could reclaim his dignity.

  The Marshall stared him in the eye. “For what it’s worth, I wholeheartedly disagree with the Chamber,” he said. “I find you Worthy, Rukh Shektan. Without you, many good men would have died. I saw you work. I saw you give everything you had even after we gave you nothing but a heaping pile of shit. It shames me how you were treated, and I hope someday you can find it in your heart to forgive us.”

  “Yes, sir,” Rukh said, not really listening, but dimly appreciating the Marshall’s words. What would he do now? Where would he go? Once a man was exiled, no other city would take him in. A death sentence had been handed out, and Rukh never even had a chance to speak up on his own behalf.

  “There is someone here for you,” said the Marshall. “You can talk to her here, but afterward, I’m afraid you’ll have to gather your belongings and leave.”

  “Her?”

  The Marshall stood. “I’ll give the two of you some privacy,” he said, coming around the worktable and leaving the tent.

  Rukh wondered who Marshall Tanhue was talking about. Had Amma come out here to see him off? Or was it Bree? Whoever it was, she shouldn’t have left the safety of the city. Not for someone Unworthy like him. He stared at the back of the tent, not seeing or noticing anything, stunned by the finality of it.

  “You look terrible,” a voice said. He turned. Jessira. Rukh’s heart unclenched a little at the sight of her. At least he’d have a place to go. She gave him a tight-lipped smile of sympathy.

  “I feel terrible,” he said. He briefly wondered why she wasn’t already back in Stronghold. She should have been, but here she was standing in front of him.

  She must have understood his confusion. “You were exiled a few days after the expedition left. Your nanna asked me to wait for your return. I agreed.”

  “And will you take me to Stronghold?”

  She nodded. “That was the plan. I have supplies and mounts for both of us,” she said. “Your nanna was generous with his provisions. Are you ready?”

  Rukh nodded, still unable to believe the terrible turn his life had taken. He would never again see Nanna or Amma. Or Jaresh or Bree or any of his other family and friends. He was dead to them. Even Ashoka herself was forever off-limits. He’d never get to walk her beautiful hills and wide streets or witness her soul-inspiring culture and arts. He numbly gathered his belongings and followed Jessira to the outskirts of the camp where she had four horses waiting for them: two saddled and others with bulging packs. Nanna had been generous. Rukh tied off his gear and mounted up. He looked back toward the camp where the warriors of the expedition had gathered. They stared in his direction, and with a start, he realized they were there to see him off. He found Danslo, who nodded silent acknowledgement.

  The lieutenant, so long his enemy, raised a fist to the sky and shouted, “Rukh Sai!”

  His words were repeated by the rest of the warriors. “Rukh Sai! Rukh Sai!” they shouted.

  “What are they saying?” Jessira asked.

  “They are offering me the title bestowed upon the winner of the Tournament of Hume,” Rukh said, his eyes wet with tears.

  “I thought you won the Tournament months ago,” Jessira said.

  “I did,” Rukh said. “I told them my Talents on the way to the caverns. They didn’t take it well.”

  “Oh.” Jessira didn’t need him to spell it all out. She understood what he meant without him having to say anything else.

  “What they’re doing now…it’s their way of apologizing,” Rukh said. He stifled a sob. Warriors didn’t cry in public. “After what the Chamber decided, this is the most they can do. Some of the ruling ‘Els won’t like it. They might even make trouble for these men.”

  “It’s not your concern anymore, Rukh,” Jessira said, softly. “They made their choices. They’ll have to live with them.” She paused. “And we have to live with ours. It’s time to go.”

  Rukh waved to his brothers one last time before turning his horse so he could face her. “Why didn’t Nanna come out with you?”

  “He couldn’t. The House Council decided it wouldn’t be safe, and he wouldn’t let your amma, brother, or sister leave the Oasis either. I’m all you’ve got. I hope you’re not too disappointed.” She reached into a satchel. “Your family sent you letters. Here.” She handed them over.

  Rukh took them numbly as he gently stroked the paper. His mother’s handwriting was elegant and perfect as was Bree’s. Jaresh’s was so like Nanna’s: an inelegant, squared off scribbling. He put the letters away. He’d read them later. “Will we make it to Stronghold before the snows?” he asked.

  “We might get caught in a few storms, but the snows usually melt in a day or two this time of year. We should be fine if we hustle.”

  “Then we better get moving.”

  *****

  “You need to know something,” Jessira said, speaking into the silence that had settled over them within minutes of leaving the camp. It was still early in the morning, and they had a long ways to go.

  Rukh glanced over at her, but she kept her eyes locked forward, unwilling to meet his gaze. He shrugged, distantly wondering what had her so stiff. Was he forever riding away from Ashoka? It was still so surreal. How could this have happened? He vacillated between grief and a hollow emptiness, and he didn’t know which was worse. The grief let him know he was alive, but right now, he wasn’t sure it was worth it. The emptiness, though…it was what he imagined it would be like to die, to finally set aside all his burdens. It was seductive, the idea of giving up and letting it all end.

  He grimaced. It was also a coward’s death.

  “The real reason you were found Unworthy is because of me,” Jessira began hesitantly.

  With a visible effort, Rukh pulled himself out from the terrible hurt of his loss and made himself listen to her words. “What are you saying?” he asked.

  Jessira’s countenance and bearing were those of guilt and regret. “The extra Talents might have been forgiven…”

  “How did the Chamber find out about them anyway?” Rukh interrupted her, suddenly focused in on a question which had plagued him since he’d learned of his banishment. “Who told them?”

  “Rector Bryce,” Jessira answered. “He came out and admitted it. Your nanna was all set to Expel him from House Shektan – I understand it would have marked him as a traitor for all time.”

  “He would have become a ronin, an unHoused warrior. Scum. No other House would have accepted his membership, not with a stain like that,” Rukh said.

  “Like I said, Dar’El was all set to do just that, but for some reason, he didn’t. The two of them had a private meeting, and your nanna let Bryce resign instead. Bryce is now a member of House Wrestiva.”

  Rukh grunted. “It’s where he belonged all along.”

  They rode in silence as Rukh considered what Rector Bryce’s betrayal and departure from House Shektan might mean. It was no longer his responsibility, but old habits died hard.

  “What I was saying earlier,” Jessira said, breaking into his thoughts. “You were found Unworthy because of Dryad Park. People claimed we had an illicit relationship.”

  “Dryad Park? Our walk at night after the play?” Rukh realized what Jessira meant. His jaw clenched in anger, and he had to stifle an urge to scream at himself. Fragging arrogant idiot! He had airily dismissed his own worries about how others would view his time with Jessira. Why hadn’t he listened to that warning voice?

  Jessira must have noticed his anger. She reined her horse to a halt, forcing Rukh to stop as well. “It’s my fault,” she said. “If I hadn’t been so needy, none of this would have happened.”

  Rukh’s teeth ground together, and he had to force himse
lf to unclench his jaw. He was angry with himself, but there was no need to crack his own teeth. He rubbed his temples and sighed. Suddenly, the fury emptied out of him, gone as quickly as it had come. Nothing he said or felt or did would change what had happened. What was done was done He had acted as he thought a friend should, and for his gross lack of judgment, he’d been found Unworthy.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Rukh said in a flat, lifeless tone, willing himself to believe his words. “I made those choices. Not you. It was my own stupidity that caused this mess.” His eyes welled with sudden tears. Damn it! He hated crying.

  Somehow, he found himself held within the circle of Jessira’s embrace. He clutched at her, hugging her hard. He let the tears fall.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered into his ear.

  He turned his head, meaning to say something to her. Instead, his lips found hers, a brief touch. It was a soft kiss that deepened. She cupped his face, and pulled him closer. All thoughts were gone. All he knew was the feel of her in his arms, and the soft press of her lips against his.

  She trailed her fingers along the line of his jaw before pulling away. “We should go,” she said, her voice sounding husky.

  Rukh nodded, his emotions in turmoil: sorrow, pain, and a deep sense of loss. He followed after her as he left behind everything he loved. He followed her west.

  *****

  The End

  Glossary

  Note: Most Arisan scholars use a dating system based on the fall of the First World. Thus:

  BF: Before the Fall of the First World.

  AF: After the Fall of the First World.

  Adamantine Cliffs: White cliffs, about two hundred feet tall that form the southern border of Dryad Park.

  Ahura Temple, the: One of the schools of song in Ashoka. Open only to Sentyas.

  Aia: A young Shylow/Kesarin.

  Alminius College of Medicine: One of the two Shiyen schools of medicine in Ashoka.