“Yes,” Uwan said. “The people have seen that Tempus is at work in their lives. He reserves a place for everyone”-he put a hand on Ashok’s shoulder-“even those who believe they have none.”
Ashok said nothing. The shadar-kai cheered for him, accepted him. They thought he was an emissary of Tempus. Ashok could feel himself sweating beneath his armor. He glanced at the brothers and Chanoch, expecting to see resentment. They had had as much a part in the mission’s success as he. He would be dead without them. Why should the people not cheer them-the city’s true sons?
Yet they cheered Ashok, messenger of Tempus, slayer of his own people. He was a hero and a traitor.
Cree and Skagi came to him, but instead of resentment there were only hearty grins and slaps on the back. Chanoch’s reaction was the most disturbing of all. He stared at Ashok with an awe usually reserved for Uwan’s presence. That he directed the feeling at Ashok was more than he could bear.
Ashok stepped back and stammered, “Vedoran should give you his report. His leadership was crucial to our success. We would all be dead without his guidance.” He shot Chanoch a meaningful look meant to wipe the awestruck fervor off the young one’s face.
It worked. Chanoch ducked his head and nodded, acknowledging Vedoran’s contribution along with Skagi and Cree.
Uwan nodded. “Vedoran will be well rewarded for his service. In the meantime, I will let you all go for some much-needed rest. Visit Makthar and accept healing. We’ll speak again soon,” he said, looking at Ashok.
When Uwan had gone, Cree said, “That’s done it all, hasn’t it? You’ll be accepted into the city for good. All that’s left is for you to take Tempus’s oath.”
Ashok didn’t know how to respond. His head was full of the crowd’s noise. He couldn’t think beyond the cheers.
Chanoch said, “You are taking the oath, aren’t you?”
“Come on, Ashok, don’t make the little one cry,” Skagi said, and dodged a swipe from Chanoch. “Of course he will.”
They all looked at him expectantly. In Ashok’s mind, the images ran together: Ilvani’s skeletal form huddled beneath his cloak; Reltnar’s desperate, hungry gaze as he reached for her; the split-open bodies of the shadar-kai. And he heard the screams of his dying enclave as he trampled through the tunnels of his home carrying death’s flaming banner.
By the time Vedoran waded through the crowd of shadar-kai, he was at the point of collapse from his wounds and exhaustion. Finally he reached the trade district, and Traedis’s small temple to Beshaba loomed before him. The green door opened before he could knock.
“I saw you coming,” Traedis said. “The whole city is afire with talk of your mission.”
The cleric helped him to one of the cots and immediately began seeing to his wounds. Vedoran stared blankly at the altar to Beshaba while Traedis prayed over him.
“They chant his name,” he said when the cleric had finished. “I can still hear them. They chant Ashok’s name and Tempus’s.”
“Of course they do,” Traedis said. “I told you this would happen, Vedoran.” He took Vedoran by the shoulders, but the shadar-kai was lost in his own thoughts and didn’t immediately acknowledge the cleric.
When he did look up, he saw Traedis’s holy symbol wavering before his vision. The gods were everywhere, he thought. He couldn’t escape them.
“Why do they follow him, Traedis?” Vedoran said. “Why do they love him so much?”
“Not all of us love Uwan and Tempus,” Traedis said. “You are not alone, my friend. Come, unburden yourself. What happened on your mission?”
Lost in thought, Vedoran told the cleric everything. He left nothing out, including a suspicion he’d been nursing in his mind during their long journey back to the city. When he finished, Traedis’s eyes were lit with triumph.
“This is more than I could have hoped for,” he said. “Now we must plan.”
When they had recovered from their mission, Ashok and his companions took up their training again as if nothing had changed. But there were subtle differences Ashok could not ignore.
His Camborr training resumed, for one. Olra came to fetch him without ceremony one day from the training yard. She said only, “Come,” and jerked her head toward the forges and the pens.
There was no nightmare to train, and Ashok found himself missing the beast’s presence without meaning to. But Olra started him working with the hounds and shadow panthers, the stalking beasts of the Shadowfell. They were no replacement for the nightmare, but they were deadly enough to satisfy him, Olra said.
Ashok worked by lantern in the caves where the animal pens were kept. Most of the time, he had only the beasts for company. The forge smoke hung heavily in the air, stinging his eyes, and the flickering light made them water, but Ashok never complained. He kept his mind focused obsessively on his work so that the deep tunnels only occasionally transformed into the blood-soaked passages of his enclave. He banished those images as soon as they intruded on his thoughts and accepted them as the price of solitude.
Anything to be away from the rest of the shadar-kai.
Ikemmu regarded him as more than one of their own. Strangers greeted him on the tower steps with warmth and deference. Ashok heard them whispering when he was not quite out of earshot. He hurried his steps to get away from their words. He didn’t want to hear himself called Tempus’s emissary.
A tenday passed, and Ashok had not spoken to Uwan again, nor had he seen any sign of Vedoran either at training or in the trade district.
He was surprised then one day to be summoned to Uwan’s private chamber, where he found not only the shadar-kai leader but Vedoran as well.
Ashok glanced at Vedoran as he entered the room and saw that the warrior’s wounds had been healed, and there were no visible scars from the battle in the tunnels. Vedoran looked healthy and strong-a sharp contrast to the way he’d appeared outside Negala’s bog. He met Ashok’s gaze and nodded. Ashok returned the greeting, but there was no time to exchange words.
“Thank you for coming, Ashok,” Uwan said. The light in his eyes, the enthusiasm he’d expressed a tenday before was absent from his demeanor today. His face was subdued, his tone business-like as he came around the long table to face Ashok and Vedoran.
“Vedoran has made his report,” Uwan said, “and he’s brought a disturbing accusation to my attention. This concerns your escape from the shadar-kai enclave. Do you know what I’m referring to?”
Ashok glanced at Vedoran, but the warrior’s expression revealed nothing. He felt panic clawing the pit of his stomach. Did they know? Had Vedoran seen through Ashok’s pretense in the caves and realized he’d known them as his own home?
If so, he was lost. Ashok bowed his head, and was preparing to confess, when Uwan spoke again.
“In your report, you failed to mention Chanoch’s actions in the tunnels,” Uwan said. “Vedoran claims that he defied orders, and in doing so endangered Ilvani and the rest of the group. Is this true?”
Ashok felt a dizzying mixture of profound relief and trepidation. His shameful secret was safe, but Vedoran had not forgotten Chanoch’s insult.
He chose his words carefully. “It’s true that there was a confrontation,” he said. “Chanoch went back to retrieve an item that was obviously important to Ilvani. I do not believe he acted out of malice-”
Uwan held up a hand. “Did he or did he not disobey Vedoran’s orders?” he pressed.
Ashok felt the weight of the leader’s gaze. “There were many disagreements during the journey,” he said. “The storm, the bog, the illusions … All of it took a toll on us.”
“Answer yes or no,” Uwan said flatly. “If the next words from your lips are any other words, you’ll be disobeying my orders, and punishment will follow accordingly.”
He spoke calmly, but Ashok heard the threat underlying the words. It was a side to Uwan he’d never seen before-a coldness as forceful as his words in the training yard.
That was the ruler of
Ikemmu speaking, Ashok thought. The Watching Blade who had executed countless warriors for disobeying orders and endangering shadar-kai lives.
Desperately, Ashok looked to Vedoran, but the shadar-kai’s face remained a neutral mask.
“Don’t do this,” he begged Vedoran.
“Damn you!” Uwan cried, slamming his fist down on the tabletop. He drew his greatsword and put the blade’s edge against Ashok’s throat. “Answer or die.”
“No,” Ashok said. “Chanoch didn’t disobey any order.”
Uwan’s face went livid. The blade quivered at Ashok’s throat. “Are you calling Vedoran a liar? If you are, the punishment will be the same for him, for bearing false witness against Chanoch. Consider your answer carefully, Ashok.”
Ashok clenched his fists. He was trapped and damned, and Uwan knew it. He half-expected the leader to slit his throat, but he held the strike. Of course Ashok knew why. The chosen of Tempus, he thought bitterly. The gods preserve my life once again.
“Vedoran does not lie,” Ashok said through gritted teeth. “Chanoch disobeyed orders. But I beg Lord Uwan’s mercy. We would never have made it out of the caves without Chanoch’s blade. He is a true warrior of Ikemmu and a devoted servant of Tempus.”
Uwan lowered his sword and stepped back. “True words,” he said. “Do you think I don’t realize Chanoch’s worth?”
“Then spare him,” Ashok said. “Forgive him.”
Uwan shook his head. “Chanoch knew his responsibility to himself and to his comrades, and he chose to ignore it. My responsibility is to uphold the laws of this city.”
“By killing one of its protectors?” Ashok shouted. “Is that Tempus’s word or Uwan’s?”
Uwan’s jaw tightened. Ashok thought he would raise his blade, but he did not. Deliberately, he sheathed the weapon. “Wait outside, Vedoran,” he said.
Vedoran nodded and left the room. He did not look at Ashok.
When he’d gone, Uwan went to the table. He pulled out one of the large chairs. “Will you sit?” he asked Ashok.
Ashok shook his head. Uwan sighed and sank down in the chair himself. He let his elbows rest on his thighs and his shoulders hunch. It was the first time he’d ever shown a hint of weariness, but Ashok saw it, in the posture and in the dullness of his black eyes.
“Cree told me what you saw in the enclave’s dungeons,” Uwan said. “How you found Ilvani. That can’t have been an easy sight.”
“It wasn’t,” Ashok said tightly. He tried not to conjure the faces of the dead shadar-kai, but they came anyway, and he was conscious of the empty dagger sheath at his belt. His blade had been so much a part of him that he hadn’t yet removed it.
“If I had seen that …” Uwan said. He cleared his throat. “A room like that would have driven me mad.”
“So I was,” Ashok said. And he’d reveled in the madness.
“That place where you found Ilvani-those were shadar-kai, but they were not our people,” Uwan said. “They’d lost themselves, driven mad by the lurking shadows.”
“Such a thing,” Ashok said slowly, “would never happen in Ikemmu.”
“Not while I live,” Uwan agreed fervently. “But you must understand … The line we walk … That thread is so delicate as to be terrifying, Ashok. We could become them so easily-without order, without discipline to govern our passions.”
Ashok rubbed his bare wrist. “We cut ourselves, and when it’s not enough we cut each other,” he said.
“Yes,” Uwan said. “Without laws to govern us, we would slay our rivals, then our allies. We would do unspeakable things, just to grab whatever bit of life we could. Our city, our community would destroy itself, just as the shadar-kai in the caves did.”
“They could have allowed themselves to fade,” Ashok said. “I would welcome my soul’s flight before I became master of that slaughter room.”
“Perhaps you would,” Uwan said. “You’re strong. But to give yourself up to nothingness-the shadar-kai are made to resist that fate with everything inside us. It’s not so easy to give up your existence.”
“No,” Ashok said, remembering the misery, the near hysteria in Reltnar when he’d realized Ashok intended to take Ilvani-his lifeline-away. “But Chanoch is different. He made a mistake.”
“He crossed that line,” Uwan said. “We can’t afford to forgive, Ashok. Our nature doesn’t allow it.”
“So that’s it, then,” Ashok said bitterly. “Tempus or the shadows? We’re damned?”
“No. We are shadar-kai,” Uwan said.
Vedoran was leaning against the wall when Ashok stepped outside Uwan’s chamber. They looked at each other across the small span. Ashok tried to control his rage, his desire to hurl himself across the space and take Vedoran by the throat.
“None of the others spoke against Chanoch,” Ashok said.
“I didn’t expect they would,” Vedoran replied. “Tempus’s flock spoke as one.”
“Uwan says you’re to be rewarded handsomely for your service to the city,” Ashok said. “Does it make you happy?”
“Do you know what the ‘reward’ for a sellsword’s service is worth?” Vedoran said.
Ashok shook his head. “I don’t care,” he said, starting for the stairs.
Vedoran’s voice carried after him. “Uwan instructed my master to fatten my purse for a month, to show his appreciation,” he said. “That’s what Vedoran’s honor is worth: a handful of coin.” His voice rose. “What else should a godless sellsword want in life but more coin to please him? He can never be Tempus’s emissary.”
“Cease!” Ashok cried. “That is nothing to me, and you know it. Will Chanoch’s death satisfy your honor?”
“Chanoch is nothing to me,” Vedoran said, mimicking Ashok with a sneer. “Do you think I give a thought as to how that dog sees me? No, this was for Uwan and his god. You and I are Blites, the other races are coin slaves, and Tempus’s followers sit above us all in judgment and contempt. Fine, then. Let them look down from their high places. But by the gods, let Uwan be bound by the same laws that damn me. Let him see how his own faith will be the downfall of his city.”
“What are you talking about?” Ashok said.
Vedoran laughed. “You’ve not lived in this city long enough, Ashok. Do you think there aren’t others who feel as I do? Did you imagine Tempus was the only god in Ikemmu? There are others, and we’re tired of being silenced.”
“You once told me you didn’t want to be controlled by the gods,” Ashok said. “Forgive me, but this newfound empathy is unconvincing.”
“Maybe,” Vedoran said. “But you should think of your own position in this city and where your loyalties lie.”
“I’ve sworn no oaths,” Ashok said. “Nor will I swear any-to Tempus, or to the other gods.”
“Then what will you do, Ashok? Return home?” Vedoran said. His shrewd gaze made Ashok go cold inside. “Do you have a home to go back to anymore?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Vedoran Left Tower Athanon and weaved slowly through the trade district. He picked a random path and checked often to see if he was being followed. Not that he expected Ashok to try to come after him. He’d been too shocked when Vedoran had left him.
Smiling to himself, Vedoran cut across the stone remains of a cluster of dwellings and ducked inside a two-story building marked as a warehouse belonging to his master’s trade consortium. It was not a warehouse, but his master often used the building in discreet business transactions and encouraged those closest to him to do the same.
Inside on the upper story, there was a room with no windows. A candle burned in a copper dish on the mantle of a boarded-up fireplace, and several chairs were arranged around the fireplace as if it were still a source of heat.
Traedis sat in one of the chairs. He looked up when Vedoran entered the room.
“You’re late,” he said.
“Forgive me,” Vedoran said. “I was meeting with Uwan and Ashok.”
Traedis’s eyes narrow
ed. “And is it certain?”
“Yes,” Vedoran said. “I confirmed it just now.” The look in Ashok’s eyes had told him all he needed to know. “Ashok’s was the enclave that slaughtered Ilvani’s scouting party. He knew the trail and those tunnels far too well for it to have been otherwise.”
“Amazing,” the cleric said, shaking his head. “Why did no one else have your insight? There were others with you in the caves.”
“All of whom believed they were following a vision sent by Tempus,” Vedoran said. “But if you take the god out of the mission, it was easy to see who was truly leading us.”
“Yet he helped you,” Traedis said. “Ashok betrayed his own people. Why?”
“Because he wanted a better life,” Vedoran said quietly, “an existence that wasn’t shameful to him. I could have given that life to him. But he chose Uwan instead.”
That part burned inside Vedoran almost more than anything else. He’d asked Ashok to consider his loyalties, but in his heart he knew Ashok had already chosen.
“Your life has been touched by many misfortunes,” Traedis said, drawing Vedoran out of his memories. “But this will be a new beginning for Ikemmu and for Vedoran.”
Vedoran nodded. “There is still an obstacle,” he said.
“Natan,” the cleric said. “Yes, I’d thought of that.”
“His visions are disturbingly accurate,” Vedoran said. “He could uncover our plans before we carry them out.”
“If that’s true, have you considered that Natan may already know Ashok’s true identity?” Traedis said.
“If he did, he would have told Uwan long before now,” Vedoran said.
“Not necessarily,” the cleric said. “Not if it meant he could have his sister returned to him safely. We can’t know what knowledge he has of Ashok.”
“I’ll speak to him,” Vedoran said, “find out what visions he’s received. Then I’ll decide how to proceed.”
“Wait,” Traedis said when Vedoran moved to the stairs. “I will not see you again until the thing has been set in motion. You must swear the oath before you go, and accept protection.”
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