Unbroken Chain (single books)

by Jaleigh Johnson

  “Because Tempus spoke to me,” Natan said. “My vision was proved true. Ashok is no longer a stranger.”

  “But you remember the way he was when he first arrived in Ikemmu, don’t you? Dangerous, half-crazed? We were among shadar-kai like that in the caves where we rescued your sister,” Vedoran said. He reached up and caught a tongue of hot wax dripping down one of the long candlesticks. He wiped it across the altar. “They made your sister rut in the dirt with them like an animal.”

  Vedoran heard Natan’s sharp intake of breath. He turned to look at the cleric and shamefully enjoyed seeing his serenity shattered. Tears filled Natan’s eyes, and he put a hand against the stone floor to steady himself.

  “I didn’t see her there in that cage,” Vedoran went on. He stepped back from the altar, offered a mocking bow to the sword on the wall, and came to sit beside Natan, who was trying to compose himself. “Ashok did, and I’ve never seen a hardened warrior look the way he did when he came out of that place. If your sister were to take her own life because of it, I would not condemn her.”

  “Why?” Natan said breathlessly. He put a hand over his face, as if he were in physical pain.

  “I don’t know why,” Vedoran said. “Maybe they required a stronger hand to lead them. Maybe shadar-kai can’t live in dark holes without some madness seeping in with the shadows. If you really want to explore the motives, why don’t you ask Ashok?”

  “What do you mean?” Natan said. Confusion and wary fear swam in his eyes. “Why ask him?”

  “You sense it, don’t you?” Vedoran said. He felt a mixture of pity and disgust for the small cleric cowering before him. Why had he ever feared the servants of Tempus? Even in the chapel they had no power over Vedoran. “That small doubt buried in your mind.”

  “No, not anymore,” Natan said. He shook his head vehemently. “Uwan believes in him, and so do I.”

  “But it was terribly convenient how Ashok led us straight to where Ilvani was being held,” Vedoran said. Natan tried to turn away from him, but Vedoran moved closer; his presence shrank the cleric further. “As much as I would love to take credit for my leadership,” his voice dripped spite, “it was Ashok who got us in and out of that place alive, and he accomplished it because he’d been in that enclave before. I’ll wager he was born there.”

  “It makes no sense,” Natan said. He looked up at the altar and to the sword. “If they were his people, why did he not betray you to them? Why did he help Ilvani?”

  “For the same reason he’s still here among us,” Vedoran said. “He’s fallen under Ikemmu’s spell. He thinks this is a better life.”

  “It is,” Natan said. He touched his chest and his voice came stronger. “It is better. Ashok must have seen the path of destruction his people were set upon. He chose a different path. For that he should be commended.”

  “In any other city, perhaps he would be,” Vedoran said. He savored the next breath as he prepared to deliver the final blow. “But Ikemmu-Uwan-cannot forgive traitors.”

  “Ashok is not a traitor,” Natan said. “You said it yourself. He brought you all out of that place alive.”

  “He did, but previous to that act, he planned to betray the city to his own enclave. I have proof of this,” he said before Natan could refute it. “I intend to present my accusation to Uwan.”

  He waited for Natan’s reaction, but the cleric said nothing. He stared blankly at the sword on the wall as if waiting for it to offer an answer. Finally, he said, “Why are you doing this? I thought Ashok was your friend.”

  “That doesn’t negate the law of this city,” Vedoran said. “The law created by your beloved leader will condemn Ashok to death.”

  Natan shook his head. “He is Tempus’s emissary. The god will forgive. He has a purpose in mind for Ashok.”

  Vedoran felt the rage boiling up inside him, but at the same time he felt a strange detachment, as if he were merely a spectator at the scene instead of a participant. He leaned forward and felt the skin of Natan’s throat beneath his fingers.

  The cleric’s eyes widened, but Vedoran tightened his grip so Natan couldn’t speak. He didn’t want to hear any more of the hypocrite’s words.

  “Uwan does not forgive,” he said in a quiet, spitting voice against Natan’s ear. “Chanoch was executed at my word. Ashok will not be elevated for his actions while Chanoch died for them. I will see this city destroyed before that happens.”

  Natan’s body had begun to twitch. His legs slapped against the stairs like a fish trying to get off the land. Vedoran, watching the scene from a distance, thought that Natan probably wasn’t able to hear himself raving, not with blood and fear roaring in his ears.

  It was over soon after that, and Vedoran slowly drifted back to himself. When he could recognize his surroundings again, he saw that Natan’s body lay on the stairs. His neck was mangled, his hand outstretched toward the altar. The sword of Tempus cast a band of shadow across his face.

  For a long breath the horror didn’t sink into Vedoran’s mind. He felt only the breathless satisfaction that comes from muscles held too long without release. He’d been holding back for years, and finally all the rage, pain, and injustice had come roaring out of him. With the violence in him spent, he felt light-headed, free.

  And with the freedom to think rationally came the recognition of all that he had just lost.

  As the group strode up the long tunnel toward the surface world of Faerun, Vedoran found himself in the most unlikely position imaginable. He was walking up a tunnel, with nothing ahead of him but darkness, and he had only faith left to him that they would reach their destination at the end of it. On the other side of the Veil, he’d been forced to place his faith in a cleric of Beshaba, goddess of all the misfortunes in the world.

  “Go,” Traedis had told him, after Vedoran had hidden Natan’s body and contacted the cleric to tell him what had happened. “Leave the city and carry out the plan. I will make certain Natan’s body is discovered at the appropriate time. Your crimes will become Ashok’s. You’ve sworn the oath to Beshaba. I will protect you.”

  He’d sworn the oath, and whether it was a trick of the cleric’s magic or his own mind trapping him, Vedoran felt the presence of the gods around him, directing him to a fate that was no longer of his own choosing.

  “Rest here,” Ashok called out from the front of the group.

  Vedoran could see that they were near their destination. He didn’t know why Ashok had stopped until he saw Ilvani swaying on her feet and breathing heavily. A stab of hatred for Uwan went through him. Ilvani was in no condition to undertake this journey. She would return to Ikemmu weaker than she’d ever been to find her brother murdered.

  I will make amends for your loss, he promised her silently. He couldn’t undo his instant of madness, but he could give her justice for the violations she’d suffered.

  You’ll have one of the animals before you, helpless, and you can punish him however you choose, Vedoran thought. No one will begrudge you taking back that control. It was a more fitting death for Ashok than fading away into shadow.

  Tatigan was speaking to Ashok, probably about the city, Vedoran thought. Ashok’s attention was focused more on Ilvani and her comfort. She ignored them all.

  “Ashok,” Vedoran said. He moved to the front of the group to join Ashok and Tatigan. “I suggest we scout ahead, you and I, to make sure the passage up to the surface is clear. It’s a customary action we take to prevent us walking into an ambush.”

  “Once we’re at the surface, I’ll join a caravan a mile west and take it back to civilization,” Tatigan said. “In a month or more, I’ll come back, once I’ve filled all the orders I’ve taken in Ikemmu.” He patted a pocket in his vest.

  Ashok nodded at Vedoran. “The rest of you stay here,” he said. “Cree, keep watch behind us.”

  They started up the tunnel together. Vedoran was struck, suddenly, by the familiarity of the two of them together. Warriors of almost equal skill, they had comp
lemented each other well. Vedoran felt that Ashok understood him better than any shadar-kai he’d ever known. If it had not been for the cold set of Ashok’s face, and his silence, such a scout would have been routine for the two of them, perhaps for years as they fought together.

  It was Tempus that had come between them, Vedoran thought with renewed bitterness. Tempus and Uwan.

  They reached a bend where a rock slide had caved in a portion of the passage. There was enough room for the group to pass the obstruction and little more to contend with than rocky terrain, but Vedoran hesitated and Ashok stopped too.

  “Was this here the last time you came through?” Ashok asked.

  “No,” Vedoran said. As he spoke he saw movement in a crevice near the top of the slide. Ashok saw it too and motioned Vedoran back.

  They didn’t speak until they’d retreated several steps back down the tunnel, out of sight of the fallen rocks.

  “Did you see it?” Ashok said.

  Vedoran nodded. “Spider,” he said. “Hound-sized or larger. It was hard to tell how far the crevice went back.”

  “Probably made itself a good ambush spot after the rockslide,” Ashok said.

  “We should deal with it now,” Vedoran said.

  “Why not bring the others up?” Ashok said. “Between the four of us, we should be able to dispatch it with little effort.”

  “So can you and I,” Vedoran pointed out. “And with minimal stress put upon Ilvani. If she feels pressured to use her magic in defense of the group, it could weaken her further.”

  “You’re right,” Ashok said. He took out his chain. “We’ll deal with it now.”

  “Wait here,” Vedoran said. A plan had begun to form in his mind. “I’ll draw it out, and you can finish it from afar.”

  “Be careful,” Ashok said. “If it jumps, you won’t have much time to react.”

  “Don’t worry. It won’t touch me,” Vedoran said.

  They moved cautiously back up the tunnel, watching the crevice for movement. After several breaths they saw hairy brown legs feather gracefully across the stone. Pebbles knocked loose by the movement tumbled down the slide with the faintest of sounds. The legs drew back out of sight.

  “Go,” Ashok said.

  Vedoran darted up the tunnel, keeping his body as far away from the crevice as possible. He was almost past the slide when the spider popped out. As Ashok had predicted, it was a deathjump spider, a creature with an incredible ability to leap on its prey from a distance.

  Watching the spider prepare its attack, Vedoran caught his foot against one of the loose stones. He uttered a cry and went down hard on his knees, exposing his back to the spider.

  Like a dream, everything fell into place. Vedoran heard Ashok’s chain whistling as it flew through the air. The spider leaped for Vedoran, and at the last possible breath Vedoran spun and put his hands up to block the bite attack he knew was coming.

  Ashok’s chain got to the spider first. The end stuck in the creature’s abdomen and dragged it back several feet.

  The spider immediately changed its attack course and leaped on Ashok, covering his torso with its body and knocking him to the ground. While Vedoran pretended to recover, the spider sank its mandibles into Ashok’s shoulder.

  Vedoran got to his feet and limped toward Ashok. He waited until the spider had delivered its poison before he drew his own sword and came at the creature from behind.

  Ashok raked the chain across the spider’s abdomen so he could push it off him and draw out the poisoned mandibles. He got his boot under the creature and levered it off him, just in time for Vedoran to put his blade through the spider’s body.

  Legs jerked and twitched as the spider tried to move, but Vedoran’s sword held it in place like a pin until it died with Ashok’s blood still dripping from its mouth.

  Ashok cursed and sat up gingerly, wiping blood from his neck and chest. His wounds bled and oozed poison liberally. Vedoran saw Ashok’s face crease in pain.

  “You were right. We should have waited for the others,” Vedoran said. He hooked the end of Ashok’s chain with his boot toe and dragged it out of reach. Ashok heard the metal links clink against the stone and looked up at Vedoran.

  “You were clumsier than usual,” Ashok said. He tried to gain his feet, but Vedoran stepped close, into his space, and Ashok was too unsteady to rise without making himself helpless. “I always thought you were the picture of grace-a true, cold warrior.”

  “And you are the opposite,” Vedoran said. “You fight with too much passion and too little regard for yourself.”

  “Is this where it ends then?” Ashok said. “You kill me for taking your place as leader?”

  Vedoran laughed. “I gave you credit for being smarter than that,” he said. “I told you: you and Chanoch are nothing to me. This is much bigger than both of you.”

  “Yes,” Ashok said. “It’s about the gods. Neither of us can control our fates.”

  “I can take the burden out of your hands, at least,” Vedoran said. “It’s time for the truth to come out. It’s time for you to claim your heritage.”

  Ashok’s mouth tightened. He held a hand over his bleeding wound. “Whatever you think of me, I didn’t kidnap Ilvani, and I didn’t have anything to do with her torture.”

  “I believe you,” Vedoran said. “But you’re planning to overthrow the city anyway, or so the evidence will show.”

  Ashok winced as the poison threaded through his blood. His face was flushed, though from pain or anger Vedoran couldn’t say. “Is this going to give you what you want, Vedoran?” he asked.

  “No,” Vedoran said. “But ruining you is ruining Tempus, at least for Ikemmu. I’ll have to settle for that.”

  Ashok surged up then and wrapped his arms around Vedoran’s waist. Caught off guard, Vedoran stumbled and fell back over the spider corpse. Ashok got on top of him and reached for Vedoran’s blade.

  Grunting, Vedoran punched Ashok in the face with his left hand. The blow got Ashok in the jaw and broke his momentum. He grabbed Vedoran’s tunic to steady himself. Vedoran swung his sword and clipped Ashok on the back of the head with the pommel.

  Weakened already by his wounds and the poison, Ashok went limp on the ground next to the spider’s corpse. Vedoran sat up and sheathed his weapon. He crouched next to Ashok and loosened the buckles of his armor. He removed the bone scale breastplate and searched inside until his fingers found a slit in the leather where a pouch was hidden.

  He reached inside and pulled out several folded parchment sheets, blood-spattered but legible, written in Ashok’s hand. Vedoran unfolded the maps and noted the detail Ashok had used in recording the city’s defenses.

  “You damned yourself from the beginning,” Vedoran said.

  Gravel crunched near the tunnel bend, and Vedoran looked up sharply.

  Ilvani stood several feet away, watching him.

  “What are you doing here?” Vedoran demanded. “You were supposed to stay with the others.”

  Ilvani walked forward and kneeled next to Ashok’s prone body. She brushed the hair off his forehead and trailed her hand down to his neck to feel for a lifebeat. Her hand came up bloody, but she seemed satisfied. She wiped her hand on her skirt.

  “He was attacked,” she said. She looked up at Vedoran.

  “A spider jumped out of the crevice up there,” Vedoran said, pointing to the creature’s hiding spot. “It poisoned Ashok.”

  “Poisoned him with a sword hilt,” Ilvani said. She fixed a mocking, innocent expression on her face.

  Vedoran worked his jaw. There were two courses open to him. If she’d only witnessed him rendering Ashok unconscious, there was nothing to worry about. But if she’d heard everything.…

  There was one way to know, Vedoran thought. He wondered if Ilvani would rattle as easily as her brother had.

  “You’re right, I knocked Ashok unconscious,” Vedoran said. “He was trying to run away-with this.” He held out the bloody parchment sheets.
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  With a curious tilt to her head, like a child, Ilvani took the sheets and unfolded them. Vedoran went on, “This may be hard for you to hear, Ilvani, but I’ve discovered something shocking about Ashok. He’s been deceiving us all this time.”

  “Everyone lies,” Ilvani said. She examined the notes, and her brow furrowed. “He’s not an artist. Why would he draw pictures?”

  “So he could deliver the information to his enclave once he had escaped the city,” Vedoran said. Ilvani looked even more confused. “Natan didn’t tell you about that, did he? Ashok was captured by patrols outside of Ikemmu. He was a prisoner of the city while you were a prisoner in those caves.”

  “Two prisoners, two different prisons,” Ilvani said. But she was listening, Vedoran thought. That was the important thing.

  “Ashok was able to rescue you because he came from the same enclave that took your scouting party prisoner,” Vedoran said. “I saw it myself-the way he knew the layout of the tunnels, where the guards would be-only I couldn’t confirm it until now. Ilvani, Ashok was responsible for what happened to you.”

  He waited for her reaction, but she only continued to stare at the parchment sheets in her hands. She didn’t appear to have heard him, or the words weren’t registering in her mind. She looked down at Ashok, but her gaze was turned inward.

  “He looks peaceful,” she said.

  “Even the guilty can seem at peace,” Vedoran said. “Ilvani, I’m sorry to have to tell you all this. I didn’t want to.”

  “Uwan,” Ilvani said. “Natan. Ask them.”

  “They were deceived as well,” Vedoran replied.

  Ilvani’s face scrunched up, but there were no tears. She looked as if she might break apart instead. She brought her hands up in claws to cover her face.

  Vedoran took a step toward her, but she backed up and screeched, “No! Ask them. Ask them, and they’ll tell me, and then it can be but not before. Before it’s just words, and you’re putting them together so they’ll sound pretty.” She looked at him with an expression very close to hatred in her eyes. “Why do you all do that?”