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Chapter 14



Guru Dondrub watched through the spyglass as Ashok Vadal and Collector Moyo walked out of the town. From so far away it was difficult to keep track of them. Even lying on his belly and steadying his elbows against the rocks, the trembling of his bony hands caused the glass to bounce about wildly. It was worse than trying to peer through a hollow reed. The pair had not dallied long after Dondrub had left town. Not a surprise there. Despite still having not fully recovered from his ordeal, Ashok did not strike him as a man overflowing with patience.

“So what did you think of him?”

As usual, she had appeared so suddenly that he hadn’t even heard her approach, and now she was standing only a few feet behind him on the mountain path. It was as if she was carried about on the wind. Her sudden arrivals and departures no longer startled him. Such was the nature of heavenly beings.

“Ashok Vadal is as you described, though not quite what I expected.”

“How so?”

“I’ve been told about his nature at his mightiest—the relentless killer, the fearless combatant, the merciless Protector—only I got to see Ashok at his weakest, with his ribs poking through his skin, face gaunt, having been a feast for vermin. You can learn much about a great man when he is brought low.”

“And?”

Before Dondrub could answer, he noticed that the pair was being followed. Honored Reverend Kumara and his lackeys were following Ashok and Moyo. It didn’t take the gift of prophecy to expect that might happen. From the look of things Kumara had gathered a couple more friends and his reinforcements were armed with blades and clubs. The boldness of the peculiar monk must have upset Kumara, and given time to stew, of course he had decided to take his revenge. Tyrants could never abide a defiant man. A lesson was about to be taught, or so they assumed.

“One moment. It appears Ram Sahib’s men are about to try our guest. Would you like to watch?” He offered her the spyglass and saw that today the heavenly messenger had appeared in the form of a young maiden of the Herders Guild. “Here. It was found in the down below and magnifies things ten times over.”

“I don’t need that to see.”

“Lucky you. My eyes weren’t particularly blessed by the gods even before they grew old.” Dondrub turned back to the show. It took him a moment to find them again through the narrow field of view. Ashok and Moyo were burdened beneath extremely large packs. They could have dropped them and run away, but Dondrub knew Moyo. He would never willingly abandon his guild’s equipment. And Ashok…

“Is that a pickaxe he’s unstrapping from that pack?”

“I believe it is,” she answered.

Barely a week ago Ashok had been starved near to death. Now he was badly outnumbered, and two of Ram Sahib’s men had flintlocks. Except it was clear from his decisive manner that none of that made any difference to Ashok. He must have ordered Moyo to hide, because the shorter man ran away and crouched behind some boulders. Then Ashok waited, pick in hand, as his enemies approached.

There was no way to hear the words said from such a great distance, but Dondrub could imagine them. Like most authoritarians, Kumara was not a man of great imagination or variety. He would be shouting a challenge, demanding compliance, expecting meekness, that sort of thing.

Ashok must have responded in an unexpected manner, because the overzealous band went from proud and haughty to hunched and nervous. It would not take much, with that strange alien accent from the mainland. He had probably met Kumara’s challenge by announcing himself an infidel and a fugitive. Ashok did not seem the sort to delay the inevitable.

What happened next was so sudden that it was difficult to track. Damn his shaky hands upon this magnifying tube! Ashok hurled the pick. A gunner fell. A moment later the sound of the weapon discharging reached the Guru’s hillside. The second gunner fired as well, only Ashok had already rolled out of the way. He lost view of Ashok for a moment, but that was enough time to leave another man prone, and Ashok yanking the pick from the dead gunner’s head.

As the remaining gunner reloaded, Ashok methodically worked his way through the others. Piercing skulls and punching holes in chests. They didn’t even have time to understand doom was upon them. Dondrub cursed, because whenever he lost his view, by the time he found it again, another man had already died.

“You have a foul tongue for a holy man.”

The gunner must have been Weapons Guild once, because his reload was very quick. Only Ashok hooked Kumara through the ribs with the pickaxe, steered him around as a shield, and the next bullet hit the honored reverend instead. Ashok ripped the pick out in a vast shower of blood, and then sent it hurtling end over end into the fleeing gunner’s back.

Then the sound of the shot reached them.

“He is Ramrowan reborn.”

“Perhaps,” Mother Dawn answered. “Or something like that. Your understanding is close enough. Inheritance is a complex thing.”

“That’s what they deserve for stealing that yak.”

“Karma,” she agreed, but then admonished him. “Your sect preaches pacifism. You shouldn’t be enjoying this so much.”

Dondrub turned back to face the thing that looked like an innocent girl. “Bad intent brings bad results. When presented a choice, the followers of Ram Sahib chose the villainous path. The universe has been slightly corrected. Ashok went through them as if they were nothing.”

“By Ashok’s standards, they were nothing. Your island relies on firearms for defense, and because of that you have neglected the more archaic martial skills. Understandable, as your firearms are a far more practical way to make war. Except Ashok hails from a land of sharpened steel, where prideful men are constantly testing themselves against one another, the smallest mistake means crippling wounds or painful death, and he was one of the few required by their Law to accept every challenge. Even in a place like that, he was considered the best of the best. You should have seen him when Angruvadal was whole and in his hand, rather than broken and buried in his heart. Before that I once saw him slice through over a hundred fearsome Somsak in a single morning.”

“What’s a Somsak?”

“Terrible neighbors.”

Dondrub was incredulous, for even when dealing with angels some things sounded too far-fetched to be true. “What he said about having black steel in him is true, then?”

“It is. And I believe his time in the guildsmen’s dungeon has given that shard time to do its work. All that remains of Angruvadal is one with Ashok now. What will become of the two of them, I do not know…But what were you saying about Ashok’s character while he was weak?”

Dondrub turned the spyglass back toward the distant road, where Ashok had picked up the sword of one of the fallen. The possible avatar spun it a few times, testing the balance.

“I misspoke. There is no weak there. Perhaps of body, temporarily, but there is no stop to the man. He may fail. He may die. Except he will do so as unrelentingly as he lives. I hesitate to call him proud, as that is not accurate. Pride implies an emotional capability I doubt he has. Ashok Vadal simply is what he is and will do what he does.”

“I agree with your assessment. As a creature of Law, he was predictable. Now that he creates his own way, the outcome becomes a mystery. I struggle to predict what he will do, even though I’ve spoken to him more times than he knows.”

“Is he always this unpleasant?”

Mother Dawn giggled. Though the sound was appropriate for her current form, it seemed odd coming from a being of her divine nature. “Sometimes. Just remember, joy is rare and fleeting in this cruel world for most. Imagine being him. Considering the things he has done on behalf of his old Law, it’s a miracle he possesses any decency at all. Hopefully, the code he is creating for himself will be enough, or the descendants of Ramrowan will simply trade one form of tyranny for another. He is almost ready, though I don’t envy the next task before him.”

The new sword must have been acceptable to Ashok, because he relieved the former owner of the scabbard, and took the weapon with him. Moyo had come out to loot the bodies of their valuables. He was a collector, so that was in his nature. When he was finished the two of them slung their heavy packs and set out once again toward the nearest entrance to the underworld.

Dondrub suspected they were far enough out of town that no one else had seen the fight. His monks had already been seen departing in the opposite direction, so hopefully his sect would not be blamed. Ram Sahib would probably assume his men had been murdered by one of the bandit gangs that infested this area. At least Ashok had done him the favor of not leaving any witnesses.

“This is it, then,” the Guru muttered. “This age ends, and a new one begins.”

“Will it be another age for man, or a time of demons? That will be for the inheritor to decide. As was written on his workshop walls, by passing his tests, Ramrowan’s servants would know him. He could not freeze. He could not drown. He could not starve. Only one test remains—the most dangerous test of all.”

“Ashok doesn’t know what he tempts by going down there. Neither the collectors nor traders guilds understand what the land below really is. It pained me not to warn them.”

Mother Dawn didn’t seem to share his concern, or more likely, she did, but was better at hiding it. After all, she had been meddling in the affairs of man for a very long time. “You did what was necessary, Dondrub. Ashok had to go unknowing into the lair of the Dvarapala. Angruvadal has made its choice. We will honor it.”

Yet doubt nagged at him. “I know that was the commandment, but what good does it do to help a man heal, only to let him walk blindly into the reach of a fallen god who has been simmering in its hate for a thousand years?”

“I have no comforting words for you, Guru. His fate is out of your hands. If Ashok is the one, he will prevail. If he’s not, he will die. The question for you is, will the people of Xhonura rise to the occasion? Will the workshop be ready to serve the Forgotten’s Warrior when he calls for aid, or will you fail your master once again?”

“You don’t need to remind me of our failures, Mother Dawn. I know them well. I taste their bitter ashes every day. This time we will be ready.”


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