“Yes, kar-vessár,” we answered in unison, though of everyone present, I’d be the only one affected by this decision. With two anaphylaxes happening within the last day, I didn’t blame them for extra caution. But no matter how hard I tried to convince myself of that, I couldn’t help a pang of anger. It was my food about to go up in flames.
Contrariness, I told myself. A childish obstinacy of someone who can’t have their way. I should be above that…
“Aldait Han.” I flinched again, wondering what new accusations he had against me. “As soon as we return to Sfal, you will retake your first aid course. I know operating a syringe may seem folly to you, but it affects more lives than yours, and I won’t tolerate any ignorance in that matter.”
“Yes, kar-vessár,” I murmured. That phrase seemed to be the only thing I was capable of saying. My cheeks heated as I wondered what he—and all the others—must have thought about my intelligence.
“Did you at least collect the fresh adrenaline shots?”
I gritted my teeth. How did the bastard know? I guess it was his job to oversee everything happening in Mespana. Still, didn’t he have more pressing matters than caring about my medicine stash? Who was I to deserve his attention anyway?
Vessár of the Seventh Cohort. A chill ran down my spine as the realization dawned upon me, as if only now did I understand what his words meant, the silver sash on my chest, the necessity of replacing Laik Var. Tears prickled my eyes, and I did my best to push the last thought away.
“Yes, kar-vessár,” I replied, mentally thanking the gods that the medics pushed the new meds into my hands when I delivered Tayrel Kan into their care. Then I cursed myself, realizing I used that damn phrase again. Had he anything else to flay me for, or could we move on?
“Finally, we’ll attack tonight.”
I almost wished he kept flaying me. A cacophony of voices exploded around me, with every vessár set on expressing their displeasure.
Myar Mal silenced them all by banging his fist on the table. “We’ve been stalling long enough!” he said sternly.
“We were just attacked, Myar Mal,” protested the new woman. Marks on her arm identified her as the vessár of the Sixth Cohort. “Many people died or were wounded.”
“That’s why Tarvissi won’t expect us to move now.”
“And we still don’t have any way of protecting ourselves from their bolts,” added Tyano Har.
“Kiarn At and his men are working on an advanced version of a blurring spell. The Tarvissi can pierce our shields, but they can’t hit something they don’t see clearly.”
“If we try to storm their mansion, all they have to do is shoot at the incoming mass,” noted Ayrela Va-Roma, vessár of the Tenth Cohort. “Your spell won’t make any difference. More people will die.”
“And if we keep on debating, they will have more time to prepare the next attack,” said Adyar Lah in unexpected support for Myar Mal. “They made it pretty clear they’re not interested in a peaceful resolution. By stalling, we’re only giving them an opening.”
“And even if we do get to the mansion, then what?” asked Raison Dal, vessár of Eleventh Cohort. “They still have the numbers. The training. The magical weapons. They can swat us away like annoying flies.”
“We have our training, too,” replied Myar Mal. “And our magic. And ssothians.”
“We used to have kas’shams too,” added Raison Dal and the kar-vessár paled.
“We have to devise a tactic that will allow us to maximize the effectiveness and minimize the losses,” he said, perfectly collected despite the adversity.
“The losses you speak of are human lives,” remarked Ayrela Va.
“They are inevitable. We didn’t start this fight, but we have to finish it.”
“One way or another?” asked Raison Dal.
Myar Mal looked him in the eye. “If you have any objections to my leadership, you can take them to the Directory.”
“I object your recklessness and arrogance,” he snapped, and I barely held back a gasp at his insolence, “is it true it was you who devised that disastrous spell?”
Kar-vessár paled even more. “Yes.”
Raison Dal scoffed. “You got drunk on the power Tayrel Kan gave you; so much so that you never stopped to consider if it was worth taking.”
I was stumped. How dare he speak like this to Myar Mal? Was he immune to our leader’s strength?
Or was I the only one susceptible? I tried to discretely look around, for the first time wondering how other people acted in his presence, but the continuing argument made it hard to focus. I’d have to go back to it later.
“I took a chance, I failed. It won’t happen again.”
“I bet you were saying the same while leaving the Academy.”
“At least I graduated.”
Now Raison Dal’s face turned red. I recalled he studied both medicine and psychology but finished neither. What about the kar-vessár? The hole in the knowledge implanted by Tayrel Kan jarred me again, but a second later thinking about the sorcerer sent a wave of guilt down to my very core.
“Are you going to try to veto me?” asked Myar Mal after a moment of silence. Both men were staring at each other, neither willing to give up and despite not being the object of the scrutiny for once, I felt uneasy.
“I would if I had any chance,” replied Raison Dal without hesitation. “But you put in three new vessár-ai in this room, they’re not going to stand against you.”
“Those of us who know what we’re doing won’t either,” said Vareya Lyg coldly.
“Myar Mal is right, we need to finish this rebellion. The sooner we do that, the better,” added Innam Ar.
“What would you propose, Raison Dal?” asked Tyano Har, “stepping back and letting them do as they please? Trying to wait them out? Should I remind you about the potential involvement of Tarviss that we still aren’t sure of? Every moment we waste here is another moment they have to gather their army and lead it on Dahls.”
My heart jumped to my throat at the mention of Tarviss, but before I gathered courage—and words—to speak, Innam Ar was already talking.
“Besides, the rebellion here may serve as inspiration for others. It’s no secret that some settlers are not happy with Dahlsian domination. If they see they can just fight us without facing retribution, they won’t hesitate.”
“The rebels must die,” stated Myar Mal, the weight in his voice crushing. “All of them. They must die, their mansion must be blasted to pieces and covered with salt so that nothing grows here, and everyone can witness what happens to those who oppose Dahls.”
“I’m not denying that, I just can’t support the mindless charging,” said Raison Dal. “Especially from you, Innam Ar. You trained every single soldier you’re now sending to die.”
The vessár of the First Cohort looked him in the eye. “I sent them to die when they left my Cohort,” he replied calmly. “I gave them the best training I could; what they do with it is their responsibility.”
“Is that what Iria In taught?”
Innam Ar leaned back in his chair. “I already saw leaders who spent their lives contemplating every single death, wondering if there was anything they could have done to prevent it. It consumed them.”
“Ah. It’s good to hear our leadership is holding human life in such high esteem.”
“We’re wasting time,” said Myar Mal. His tone made it clear he was not interested in further objections. “The losses are inevitable and if you have a problem with that, I suggest changing your line of work.” He drew his gaze over all of the vessár-ai. “I want you to survey and regroup your Cohorts. Engage your haip if you must.”
Haip-vessár-ai were first in every dozen. It was a semi-official position at most times but it had its uses. If only I had any idea who the fuck my haip-ai were…
“I expect to see your reports in an hour. Keep them short. Also, tell your people to start preparing. Those with medical training stay with the woun
ded. All sorcerers with a score of one point three and above are to report immediately to Kiarn At in Cohort Four to prepare the blurring spell. Now come on, move it!” He made a shooing motion and the vessár-ai scrambled from their chairs. “Aldait Han, you stay.”
Fuck.
Myar Mal waited until everyone else had left, so I had a few seconds to figure out what to say. But every option that came to my mind seemed worse than the previous one. When the tent flap fell behind the last vessár we sat in silence for an uncomfortably long moment.
“Is that girl a friend of yours?” asked Myar Mal finally.
I shuddered. Not the question I expected, but no less terrifying.
“We grew up together.”
Too late, I remembered I was supposed to pretend she lived here.
“And I guess you’d be terribly sad if something bad happened to her.”
I clenched my teeth. She was my compatriot, if nothing else, and I didn’t wish her harm. On the other hand, she made her choice—she was a rebel, and according to Myar Mal’s own words, they all had to die. I didn’t want to die with her. I didn’t want to die for her.
But then I already decided to lie. Should I change my story now? Admit to my lies? I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So, I kept my mouth shut and waited for the kar-vessár to elaborate.
He didn’t.
“All right,” he said instead, “let’s get back to more pressing matters.”
Maybe it was because of his macabre look, but there was only one other pressing matter on my mind. I exhaled nervously and started speaking:
“Myar Mal, I assure you, I had nothing to do—”
“If I had any doubts, you wouldn’t be here,” he cut me short, stern and to-the-point and I felt a pang of annoyance. “Sit back.”
I obliged automatically, slumping into my chair and clasping my hands together.
“If there’s one thing that incident taught me, it’s you would never be able to plot,” he said, despite his half-closed eyes managing to look at me as piercingly as before.
Despite the paralyzing anxiety, I felt a pang of annoyance. “You think I’m too stupid?”
“More like… too straightforward. But someone heard you threatening me.”
Annoyance melted into embarrassment. I started wringing my hands under the table. “I’m sorry, kar-vessár. It was inappropriate of me. I want to assure you—”
“That you don’t know when to shut up. Yeah, I noticed. But I need you to do it now. Yesterday in the hangar. Do you remember who was there?”
I paused my wringing, taking a moment to consider. “Vessár-ai, me, the kas’sham… but I doubt it’s them.”
At moment like this I was glad that Dahlsi-é had no grammatical genders, because I had no idea how to tell kas’sham men and women—and others—apart.
“Why not?”
I scoffed. “Everyone knows Tarvissi are speciesists. I can’t imagine non-humans working with us.”
“Who said Tarvissi had anything to do with that?”
I snapped my head up, my hands frozen in place. “I beg your pardon?”
He put his mask on and inhaled deeply before his next words. “Do you know what happens when kar-vessár dies?”
I hesitated, not sure what answer he expected. I had some ideas. We would be left without leadership, without direction. No attack could be planned, and we would become open for an enemy charge.
But his reply came before I could say any of this.
“Another one gets appointed. It’s even better when the whole thing can be blamed on someone they already hate. I mean, he’s Tarvissi, he has been seen arguing with current kar-vessár, he has the means. It’s all too perfect, don’t you think?”
I tensed. Previously, I reached a similar conclusion, but I still assumed all of this led back to the Tarvissi. Was I wrong? Did the conspiracy originate within our own ranks?
“No offense, kar-vessár,” I asked weakly, “but could any Dahlsi handle carai-nut?”
“Some of us are more resilient than others. Some of us have good relations with non-humans.”
I remembered the other person that was in the hangar. “You mean the kas’sham—”
I stopped abruptly. I realized I didn’t even know his name.
“Dria’ri Na.” He waved his hand dismissively. “He died in yesterday’s charge. But it doesn’t matter, really. At best he was just a pawn. It’s the head I want to get to.”
Understandable. But…
“What do I have to do with it?”
“Well, I always thought you quiet types know more than you let out.”
At first I was surprised, but that quickly passed and I couldn’t help a bitter smile. “That’s a nice sentiment, Myar Mal, but I’m afraid in this case, you’re wrong. I’m just a shy guy with no social skills. People only think I’m interesting because of the times we live in.”
He gave me an inquiring look, and I knew he was wondering if I told the truth. But I was. For Vhalfr’s sake, without magic aid, I couldn’t even remember the names of the vessár-ai. How could I know which of them would be most likely to wish the kar-vessár dead?
“So, you don’t sit in shadows, watching everybody and gathering information to use later on?” He sounded almost disappointed.
I chuckled self-depreciatingly. “I can’t imagine why anyone would want to displace you.”
But before I even finished speaking, memories came back.
“Raison Dal…” I started.
Kar-vessár nodded. “Opposing me doesn’t mean he’d like to kill me. Frankly, I doubt he has it in him… but he would have no problem obtaining the nut. I’ll keep him in mind. My top pick was Sanam Il, it’s a shame rebels got him. Wouldn’t it be a wonderful irony if he died along with me, leaving the position he craved so much up for the grabs?”
The only answer I could offer was a blank stare. I knew Sanam Il—a Tarvissio-phile who recently shaved his beard, but for the life of me, I could not remember having any type of interaction with him.
“He was the one who suggested Adyar Lah for vessár of Seventh Cohort,” Myar Mal offered.
“Perhaps he confined in Adyar Lah?” I hazarded a guess.
Kar-vessár shook his head. “I doubt that. You should see his face when I commissioned him to lead Seventh Cohort. No, he wouldn’t be able to keep the secret. He’s a decent guy, all things considered. Just needs a little shaking up now and then.”
I remembered Adyar Lah’s beaten-down appearance at the meeting. It made me almost feel sorry for him.
“He reminds me of you a bit, you know. Quiet, withdrawn. I bet if you met under different circumstances, you’d get along pretty well.”
Yeah, I could imagine that: two quiet guys, sitting in awkward silence, trying to figure out what to say.
“I’m going to drill him later on,” kar-vessár continued, “but I think there’s no point. If it was Sanam Il, the conspiracy died with him. If not, I suppose they will try again.”
I felt as if someone punched me in the gut. I should know. All this talk about respecting Laik Var’s wishes was just a ruse. Myar Mal had to have a better reason to keep me here, to promote me. Something personal.
“And you think next time they will go for me,” I guessed. “That’s why you put me in this position.”
Myar Mal rolled his lips in a dark parody of a grin, then reached out to pat my shoulder. “See? You’re not as dumb as you seem.”
Chapter 19
For the second time that day, I stood before my Cohort. Now officially, with the silver sash burning at my chest. It didn’t feel any less uncomfortable.
I tried to recall all the grand motivating speeches I’d ever heard, be it from Innam Ar, Laik Var, or even Adyar Lah, and come up with my own. My mind was blank.
“Kar-vessár gave new orders,” I stated lamely, shame and self-loathing churning in my guts. “We’ll be storming the mansion tonight. I want you to suit up and be ready in an hour. All sorcerers with a score
of one point three and above are to report to Kiarn At in Cohort Four for a special assignment.”
“Yes, vessár!”
The answer came without hesitation, and with it the tightness in my shoulders loosened a bit.
I looked around. The Seventh Cohort consisted mostly of Dahlsi. There were three Xzsim, one human woman whose origin I couldn’t place, plus a handful of nonhumans. There used to be a few kas’shams… I tried not to think about them.
I cleared my throat before continuing: “Also, due to the recent increase in the number of life-threatening allergic reactions, we are to hand over all of our natural food products. The decontamination team will be making rounds around the camp and I ask for your full cooperation.”
“Yes, vessár!”
This time the answer was less enthusiastic. The Xzsim were glaring at me with murder—although that could be their default state. They had those round, yellow eyes that seemed evil, and lining them with kohl didn’t help. Nonhumans were unreadable. I’d heard chavikii could go for days—and that’s Dahlsian days—without food, so I wasn’t expecting too much resistance from them. Ssothians on the other hand, could be unpredictable, and given their size and aggression, I couldn’t imagine anyone bullying them into submission.
Well, the decontamination team would deal with them.
There was still one more thing. I scanned the crowd, looking for familiar faces. But most people I knew were either dead or wounded.
“Saral Tal,” I called finally
He stepped out, not smiling, but the corners of his mouth were twitching.
“I want you to be my nami.”
He wasn’t able to hold it any longer and his face brightened with a smile. I breathed a sigh of relief at how quickly he got over Ellare. Maybe Myar Mal’s acceptance of my lie banished all traces of distrust.
“Yes, vessár!” he exclaimed happily.
He was the last person I knew—save for Dalyn Kia, but her opinion of me was pretty low and I had no intention of decreasing it even further. At least Saral Tal seemed incapable of meanness, so I could pretend that he liked me. Anyway, there was no one else I trusted. Argan Am would probably be a better pick, with the experience he amassed leading our dozen, but I wasn’t going to drag him out of the hospital.
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