The Exile's Redemption (The Heart of a Tyrant Book 1)

by Reece Dinn

  Shonmu tried to hide his apparent embarrassment. 'Wise words, Socrae-al,' he said, sitting back down.

  'Shall we put it to a vote?' said Lerama, doing well to keep her face calm and collected. 'All in favour of bolstering our northern defences please raise your hand.'

  Everyone except Shonmu raised their hand. After a couple of seconds he too raised his, glancing disapprovingly at those around him.

  'Then the motion is passed,' said the Qotan.

  Lerama bowed her head, then sat back down.

  The Monster turned around and beckoned Koma to come closer.

  Koma forced herself not to sigh and roll her eyes as she came closer. 'Yes, Sabu?'

  'What is going on? Are the Raginarsaru invading or not?' the Monster asked.

  Gods give me strength. 'Not yet, Sabu.' But they will. They will.

  'Ragi Limjeh, I beseech you,' Koma whispered in the Dragon's Tongue. 'Please protect my mother and sisters. Let no harm come to them. Keep them safe, for I am unable to do so. They are strong, and they give their service to you and your kin. Please, I beg you.' She bowed her head, then kissed the model of Limjeh. She placed the model back on the bed, then picked up the model of Donajeh. This model she brought down to her crotch and pressed it in hard.

  'Ragi Donajeh, I beseech you. Please keep my sisters fertile so they can continue the Telah family, and provide strong sons and daughters to serve you and your kin. Our blood is old and pure, our love and devotion to you, your kin, and the Saru, runs in our veins. Please, keep my family alive and healthy.' She brought the model of Donajeh up to her mouth and kissed it, then too placed it back on the bed. Opening the pouch she kept her models in wider she pulled two more models out. She only prayed to these two in desperate times.

  Sonajeh, He Whose Eyes Do Not Falter, a yellow scaled dragon with blue hair running down his back. She held the the model to her forehead, pressing it in hard.

  'Ragi Sonajeh, I beseech you. Please grant me the focus of a hunter. To stay true to my mission, and claim my target. To not deter from the path set before me. To open my eyes to my true purpose.'

  She placed the model on the bed and then picked up the final one.

  Rakajeh, He Who Unleashes the Fury of the Flame. A black scaled dragon with red hair running down his spine. This model was twice the size of the others, and had two large red horns protruding from the sides of his head. She pressed the model into her stomach.

  'Greater Ragi Rakajeh, I beseech you. Give me the strength to strike down my enemies and expunge them. I shall give you all that I am if you would make it so. Unleash the fury of the flame. Reduce these abominations to ash and dust so that I can return to my family, or join your armies up in the heavens. Please, I beg you. Expunge them.'

  She bowed her head low, pressing the model of Rakajeh into her stomach as hard as she could, so that he could feel the fire inside her, and hopefully make it burn more fiercely.

  'It is good to see you still have faith in the Ragi.'

  Koma screeched, flinging the model of Rakajeh at the wall and scrambling back. She pinned herself to the door of her small, cramped room, suddenly panting like she'd ran across the whole city.

  From out of the shadows in the corner of the room, where the candle's light didn't quite reach, a Dragon's Shadow emerged, his black clad form barely visible.

  'What in the name of the Ragi do you think you are doing?' Koma hissed in the Dragon's Tongue.

  'Waiting for you,' said the Shadow. 'I did not wish to disturb your communion with the Ragi. I am aware of how hard it must be to keep faith when you are trapped in this uncivilised society.'

  I recognise his voice. He's one I've spoken to before. 'You are near two moons late. Where have you been? I have been petrified wondering what could possibly have happened.'

  'We are sorry. Events in Tier-Shanan prevented us from maintaining our current schedule. It was impossible to send a message to you.'

  'So has the country been purged?'

  The Shadow shook his head. 'The Ragi wished for the knowledge of its people to be preserved, and for those deemed worthy of mercy be spared. It has been a far greater feat than was first expected to achieve the Ragi's wishes. There was an unexpected resistance too. The Tier-Shanan people have not been as weak as was supposed. It required our expertise.'

  Koma picked herself up off the ground. 'My mind has been distressed while I have waited. Postulating as to what could have happened to delay you. I thought I had been abandoned, and all you can say is sorry?'

  'Calm yourself,' said the Shadow. 'There is no need for this outcry. No harm has come to you. The grand plan is still proceeding according to the Ragi's design.'

  'I don't give a fuck,' cried Koma, switching back to Predemagdan.

  'Do not use that language with me,' said the Shadow in Dragon's Tongue.

  Did he understand that, or does he just mean the savage tongue in general? Koma gathered up her Ragi models and slipped them back inside their pouch, then pushed them under the mattress of her bed.

  'What new information do you have for me to report back?' asked the Shadow, not bothering to hide his irritability.

  'What does it matter?' Koma snapped.

  'You prove tedious to talk to, Kanisha.'

  'My name is not...' she stopped herself, realising she was about to correct him.

  'Your name is not what?' The Shadow's tone lightened. She knew he was smiling at her through the black fabric covering his mouth.

  Koma rubbed her forehead. 'I forgot myself for a moment. It is a consequence of pretending to be another person every single day of this mortal life.'

  'Of course.' The amusement was still in his voice.

  'The savages are to deploy more troops to their northern border, in preparation for a potential invasion of Zanaidu. The Tekan of this city proposed that they invade Zanaidu themselves, to gain a stronger position against us when we invade, but his motion was dismissed by the Socrae-al.'

  The Shadow folded his arms. 'I see. The pieces are moving it would seem.'

  'Will Zanaidu be invaded?'

  'Yes, Rogargeh Gondi will be leading the invasion, but he shall not attack the Predemagdans.'

  'He shall not?'

  'The dragons shall deal with these people.'

  'Does Rogargeh Gondi not have dragons?'

  The Shadow shook his head. 'No he does not.'

  So this is just a feint to draw the savages' forces away from the capital? But then where are the dragons going to attack from? Over the eastern mountains?

  'Do you have any information pertaining to the purple mist?' asked the Shadow.

  Koma shook her head. 'I have heard nothing since what I last reported. Perhaps if you were to explain to me what it is I might be of more help.'

  'I have as much knowledge of it as you do. We have our orders.'

  Well that doesn't make me feel better. 'What of my family?' Koma asked. 'I have enquired numerous times now for reassurances that they are cared for and living prosperously. What has become of them?'

  'They are well.'

  Liar. 'That is all you can tell me?'

  'What do you wish for me to say? I do not know them. They are alive and well, that is all I have been told. Would you like me to befriend them? Take them out to dinner one evening and have them describe to me their innermost thoughts and feelings? Their hopes, dreams, and aspirations? Be realistic.'

  I hate you. I hate you all. 'No.'

  'Well then. Be content that they are alive and unharmed. The Ragi shall uphold their end of the bargain, if you uphold yours.'

  Bargain? There was no bargain. You took me from my home when I was a girl. Told me that if I didn't do as you say my family would be killed. 'Where is Holi. I wish to speak with him.'

  'That is not possible.'

  'He is the man who trained me. I demand that he be here when I next make my report.' The man that destroyed me.

  The Shadow snorted. 'The needs of the Ragi require him to be elsewhere.'


  'The needs of the Ragi,' she muttered.

  'We are done here. Recuperate, Kanisha. Your appearance has deteriorated since last I saw you. You look haggard. It is unbecoming.'

  'Unbecoming?' she hissed.

  The Shadow advanced on her.

  Koma staggered back into the door.

  'Do you mind?' asked the Shadow. 'I need to leave.'

  'I thought you would simply vanish into the shadows, as always,' said Koma.

  'Do not be ridiculous. Your time amongst these savages has clearly dulled your mind.' He pushed her aside and opened the door, peering out into the hall. Then, seeing no one was about, he stepped out and closed the door behind him without another word.

  'Bastard,' she spat. I've worried myself to death for a moon for that? Gods, kill me.

  She threw herself onto her bed, curled up into a ball and closed her eyes, letting out a deep sigh. Moments later she was sound asleep.

  Chapter Thirty Five

  'Look here,' said Batterox. 'The bullets are carefully crafted from sieppi stones.' He held a bullet up so Awon and Ten could see. The bullet was long, thin, and pointed. The black sieppi stone had been smoothed right down, forming it into a cylinder with a point.

  'How'd they make it without makin' it burn?' asked Ten.

  'They have to constantly pour water over it while they grind and sand it down. The craftsmen have to wear thick gloves as the stones get really hot.'

  The rifle lay in bits on the wooden table, the muzzle and barrel separated, the chamber open to reveal an oku stone at the bottom of it. Clips of five bullets lay scattered around, along with several single bullets.

  'What's the oku stone fer?' asked Awon.

  'That, lad, is what makes the rifle fire. See these?' Batterox picked up a clip. 'They slot in here.' He slotted a bullet into each hole in the barrel. 'Now when you pull the lever back it loads a bullet into the chamber. Then when you pull the trigger.' He slapped Awon's hand away as he went to reach for the trigger. 'When you pull the trigger, it pushes the bullet to the oku stone. Then what do you think happens?'

  'It shoots,' said Awon.

  'Obviously, fuckwit. But how?'

  Awon and Ten both shrugged.

  Batterox sighed. 'It's like talking to retards. And my people are the ones that are persecuted.' He held the sieppi bullet up again. 'Sieppi stones can never be cooled down past their base temperature, which is hot by the way. Feel.' He held it out to them. Awon touched it with a finger then pulled it back instantly as it burnt his skin. 'See. Some bullets are hotter than others, but they're all hot.'

  'How do you hold it?' asked Ten.

  Batterox winked, an odd gesture for a yegeyor. 'Thick skin, lad. Now oku stones, as a butcher's boy ought to know, can never be heated up, and are very cold all the time.'

  'Obviously,' said Awon with a grin.

  'Don't be smart. Now, what do you think happens when a sieppi stone comes into contact with an oku stone?'

  'Yer might as well be askin' the dogmas in the basement,' scoffed Red from the next table over as he sharpened various blades.

  'Humour me lads. What do you think happens?' said Batterox.

  'They don't like each other?' asked Ten.

  'Actually, that's sort of right. In a simpleton's sort of way.'

  'Well done, lad,' cried Red, clapping derisively.

  'Sort of?' asked Awon.

  'The two stones react with one another. The sieppi stone, reacting to the cold oku stone trying to cool it, actually heats up. The oku stone does the opposite, and becomes colder. What do you think happens then?'

  'Fuck's sake, jus' tell us,' said Awon, growing impatient.

  Batterox frowned. 'The sieppi stone gets hotter and hotter until it can't contain its heat any more. It explodes with great energy, shooting away from the oku stone.'

  'That's why they shine dead bright,' said Ten, pleased with himself that he was able to follow the lecture.

  'Yes. Now these barrels,' Batterox tapped the rifle's long metal barrel. 'These are lined with yorae. Why?'

  'Fuck if I know,' said Awon.

  'You're not even trying now. Yorae is one of the only metals that sieppi can't pierce when heated to critical. So when it shoots away, the yorae keeps it from blasting apart the rifle and forces it along the barrel, and out through the muzzle,' said Batterox.

  'That's all fascinatin',' said Awon. 'But when can I shoot one again?'

  'You don't get to. Not after what happened in the prison.'

  'Killin' that Konar? Why'd yer care?'

  Batterox frowned, making a rumbling sound. 'I gave him my word he'd live. You broke it.'

  Awon shook his head. 'Fuckin' jenni. As if he believed yer.'

  'Doesn't matter. You proved you can't be trusted.'

  'Can I use it?' asked Ten.

  Batterox shook his head. 'The recoil on it would probably break your ribs, a lad your size.'

  Ten's face sank.

  Awon slapped him on the back. 'Yer don' need a rifle. Practice with yer knife. More fun stabbin' people anyways. Gettin' up close and personal, like. Besides, yer the boss's pal now. Sure if yer ask all nice he'll let yer 'ave one.'

  Ten had been the one to warn Cutter that the Drowners were coming, and that Awon, Red and the rest of the crew had been arrested. 'When the fightin' started, I ran and hid, like you said,' Ten had told them after they'd met up again at Cutter's hideout, a large warehouse. 'I saw the whole thing. The Konar coming, that guy being shot. Them taking you away. Didn't know what to do. So I ran 'ome, told Helma the whole thing. She said I should tell Cutter. I said “dunno where he is”. She said she did. So we ran across the city, up a tier to Domestic District. When we got 'ere they wouldn't let us in. Said they were gonna beat the shit outta me. But then I said Big Red was locked up and they let us in.

  'We told Cutter everything. Straight away he acted. Sent all his crew down to Suchai and when the Drowners came to move in he battered 'em, sent 'em running. Then he came and got all of you. I told him all about you. How this all started. Thought he was gonna be mad, but he was pleased.'

  Now Ten was Cutter's favourite, although people whispered behind his back that he was a coward. Awon had to be pulled off of several people he heard calling him that. Thankfully none of them had been particularly big, otherwise he'd have been on the receiving end of a beating.

  'The hero of the hour,' snorted Red. 'Sure he'll let yer 'ave a rifle, lad.' He put down the large knife he'd been sharpening.

  Ten looked away embarrassed.

  'Jokin' aside. You runnin' away saved my skin. Don't think the boss woulda rescued us if yer hadn't. We'd all be hangin' from the city walls by now.'

  'You're probably the smart one,' sad Batterox, 'not getting involved in the fighting. Dirty business.'

  'It's a dirty business we're in. Gotta love it though,' said Red, slapping the table hard.

  Awon went to pick up one of the sieppi bullets but Batterox beat his hand away again.

  'Do you not listen, stupid fuck? Don't touch. Go wash these and get me some clean cloths. These are all dirty.' He picked up some rags from the edge of the table and threw them in his face.

  Awon caught them, and was about to throw them back, but thought better of it. He wasn't afraid of the yegeyor, but he knew his chances in a fight with him were slim at best. He walked away.

  Cutter's warehouse was smaller than Red's place, but there was a lot of tunnels under the ground that led to dugouts. He'd wanted to go exploring them, see where they all led, but when he'd tried he'd been dragged back.

  He walked across the warehouse to the back rooms, passing by table after table piled up with weapons, gang members around them checking to see what was useful and what wasn't. Knives, cleavers, maces, Konar short swords, military sabres, long swords from the gods only knew where (the Broken Kingdoms if Awon had to guess), cross bows, bow and arrows, axes, spears, clubs, bats, flails, spiked gauntlets, and of course, rifles. The warehouse was like a warrior's dream,
or at least what Awon thought one would be like. He couldn't help but imagine himself in the midst of a battle, swinging an axe into some guy's neck, while stabbing someone else through the eye with a knife. He'd be suited to that.

  There were a lot more members of the Cutters than he'd thought there were, fifty at least, and he wasn't even sure if that was all of them; the dirty homeless children Cutter used as pickpockets hanging around the place made it difficult to judge the gang's true numbers. The little shits were a constant nuisance, rifling through Awon's pockets every chance they got. Luckily he never carried anything on him except his cleaver, and usually a dagger or knife, so there was never anything to lose to them. Occasionally one would attempt to steal his cleaver, but he'd pry it out of their little fingers before they could make off with it.

  As well as those in Cutter's warehouse there were also gang members on the streets down in the lower districts, holding their turf in both Nuchai and Suchai and conducting Cutter's day to day business, gathering protection money, facilitating and brokering unsavoury deals, and of course selling whatever the pickpockets looted to those merchants who didn't ask too many questions about where the merchandise they were buying was procured. It was like being apart of an actual army. Awon liked it.

  He passed by a huge guy hacking at a wooden dummy with a giant axe, a crazed look on his face, like he believed he was in an actual battle. His large, muscular arms looked like they could rip Awon apart with ease, but he reckoned that a knife in the head would kill him as well as the next guy. He threw the dirty cloths into the corner and went on through to the back rooms of the warehouse.

  Food was cooking in the kitchen, big pots of stew that smelt vaguely of meat, the meat probably stolen from the bins of some butchers shop. In the next room people slept in bunk beds like they were in barracks, or on the floor curled up in blankets. A acrid stench hung in the air, the smell of many, sweaty, unwashed men cramped together in a small space for too many days.