Chapter 10
Pari was asleep atop a pile of blankets. Jagdish marveled that she was able to sleep so soundly even after a crisis. He smiled, as that trait must come from his side of the family, because all warriors developed the ability to take a nap on demand. Luckily, Pari took after her mother in appearance…snored like her too. And that thought made Jagdish chuckle…then grow sad.
He had never dreamed that with hundreds of warriors under his command, life would be so lonely.
Jagdish had once traveled across half of Lok to get back to Vadal, even though his only hope of survival was to be granted mercy by a merciless Thakoor, and he had been carrying enough wealth in demon flesh and bone to stop in any other house along the way and buy himself a judgeship. Yet he had returned to his homeland to try and restore his name anyway. By a miracle he had been rewarded with status and glory beyond his wildest hopes. So it was an odd thing, this bitterness he felt. He had achieved everything he had dreamed of, yet what did all that matter if he had lost what he truly loved along the way?
Jagdish stood before one of the many windows of his luxurious quarters, as the sun painted the courtyard below orange. From his pocket he took the tiny watch he had won in a wager at Cold Stream Prison and absently checked the time. It was an unnecessary act, but the feel of the tiny gears spinning in his palm comforted him. He’d only had time to get out of his armor, clean himself, and change into clothing that did not stink of sweat, soot, and death, and already there was much more to do.
There was a knock on the door. Jagdish put the watch away and said, “Come in.”
It was one of his bodyguards, Zaheer. “Your guests have arrived, Phontho.”
“See them in, and have the kitchen bring us some food.”
“Anything in particular?”
“Whatever’s easiest for them.” The servants had been through enough today and he felt guilty for making them labor further, but he still had decisions to make and meetings to conduct, and he couldn’t do that distracted with hunger. Such was the life of a high-status man.
Zaheer stepped out of the way so that Karno and Rada could enter. They had washed and been given new clothes. Karno was in the formal blue-gray and bronze uniform of a Vadal officer. It was the wrong house and station, but that particular shirt had been the only thing large enough any of the house slaves could find, and it was still far too tight.
Rada immediately bowed in the most proper northern custom. “Our presence as requested, Master Phontho.”
“Enough of that, Rada. When you met me I was in rags, and today you fought to keep my house from burning down. If that doesn’t make formality unnecessary, I don’t know what does.”
Rada sighed. “Karno was useful. I didn’t accomplish much.”
“As I tell my soldiers, it’s more important to always do the right thing than a big thing. Most ladies of your status would have sat and watched the spectacle while complaining about the noise. How are you?”
“I’ve got a bump on the head, but honestly, I’ve never been so tired in all my life. I can barely keep my eyes open.” She held out her trembling hands. “Yet, I can’t stop shaking.”
“That’s normal after some excitement. You get used to it.”
“I don’t know how you warriors do this. I’ve never been through a raid before.”
“That’s life on a border. It happens all the time.” That wasn’t at all true, but no proud warrior would ever admit to feeling vulnerable and wronged to members of the higher caste. He gestured toward the pillows around a low table. “Sit and rest. It’s been a hard day.”
They did. Rada winced as she angered one of the many minor injuries on her body. Karno had received what would have been a mortal wound to any normal man only a few hours ago, yet he barely showed any discomfort now. Such was the nature of Protectors. As Ashok had taught him, it was kill them fast, or not at all.
“We will leave in the morning,” Karno stated without preamble. He had never struck Jagdish as a man fond of excess conversation.
“That’s wise. I’ll see to it you have plenty of supplies and fine horses to carry it all, as many as you want.” Jagdish held up a hand before Rada could claim she didn’t deserve such generosity. “It’s a gift. Besides, Karno could simply use the authority of his office to take whatever he needed if he wanted anyway.”
“Karno wouldn’t do that.”
The Law said Protectors could requisition whatever they required, and the lower castes had to oblige them, regardless of how much harm taking that property caused. Rada didn’t seem like the sort to enjoy that sort of officious bullying, though. She was truly an oddity among her caste. Karno simply gave him a polite nod of acknowledgment.
“It is as you say, then, Rada. I’m not going to argue with somebody who once swayed silver-tongued Harta Vadal into saving the life of a poor condemned soldier.” Jagdish grinned. “I’d offer you a military escort all the way to whatever border you wish to cross as well, but I’d guess you’d rather I not know your next destination.”
“That’s probably for the best. I will miss this place. Despite a profound lack of reading material, it was rather nice…until recently.”
“I’m sorry you had to reveal yourself, Karno. If the other warriors stationed nearby had been doing their damned jobs, and been guarding this place like they were supposed to, it wouldn’t have been necessary.”
Karno shrugged. “Mistakes happen in war.”
So did getting challenged to a duel by another commander and having your head cut off as payment for your neglect, but Jagdish didn’t say what he intended to do to Phontho Gotama aloud, as there was a lady present.
Rada noticed that little Pari had woken up and made a happy noise. “Oh, can I hold her?”
“Certainly.” Jagdish was a proud man of the warrior caste. It wasn’t like he knew much about raising children until they were old enough to hold a sword. This early part should have been Pakpa’s responsibility. He truly loved his daughter, as a father should, yet she was a constant reminder of what he had lost…of what might have been had he accepted his place and not chased after Ashok Vadal in an outlandish attempt to restore his name.
Rada picked Pari up and held her close. “I will miss you, little flower.”
“She adores you. You’ll make a fine mother someday.”
“Oh, thank you, Jagdish. I worry about you two. Raveena is a fine maid, but a little girl needs a mother. I knew too many girls in the Capitol who were raised by maids because their mothers were too busy, and they all turned out awful. Chatty, vapid, gossiping things who were barely literate. When is your house going to arrange a new marriage for you?”
“I’ve been rather busy trying to provoke a war.” In truth, he was of high enough status he could request a wife today, and the Law would arrange for him one of the finest maidens of Vadal’s warrior caste tomorrow. Any warrior family would be honored to marry one of their daughters off to a man who had earned the Param Vir Chakra, Great House Vadal’s highest award for valor. Except, his last marriage had been arranged as an insult, to a woman of the worker caste, a lowly baker’s daughter, in order to seal a contract concerning the supply of bread. Yet that had turned out to be the best thing that had ever happened to him. No…A soldier only got so much luck in one lifetime, and Jagdish had already used up more than his share. “Maybe someday.”
“You’re a good man, Jagdish. Don’t deny yourself happiness.”
“I won’t. And may your situation resolve so you can get on with your life as well. I hope that the news I have helps you toward that.”
Rada had kept the details of why she was in hiding secret at first, but she had slipped eventually. They had been gathered for a dinner, and one of his other guests had asked Jagdish about what it had been like, fighting alongside the infamous Ashok Vadal. He had begun to tell the now familiar story once more, when Rada had become surprisingly incensed, and declared that the brave and noble Lord Protector Devedas would surely catch that foul criminal. Jagdish had heard such things many times while telling stories about the Sons of the Black Sword, but Rada’s feelings on the subject had seemed particularly intense and personal.
Afterward, Jagdish had asked her about the outburst, and she had told him the truth of her relationship with Devedas. Which had been yet another unexpected surprise about the curious young lady, but it certainly explained why she had such an important and capable bodyguard. Jagdish had been glad to give her his word that he would not speak of it again…mostly because it spared him from any further awkward conversations about how his illegal house guest’s secret lover, the chief Law enforcer in the world, was on a mission to kill Jagdish’s good friend, the most wanted criminal in the history of Lok.
“While we were in Sarnobat we intercepted one of their messengers on his way back from the Capitol. Lord Protector Devedas has returned from the south, triumphant.”
It took a moment for understanding to set in, then Rada began to smile. “It is done? Has Ashok been brought to justice? Is the Black Heart dead?”
Jagdish nodded. “The messenger confirmed it. He’d seen the grand parade with his own eyes.”
Karno looked toward the sunset, and just for a moment, the giant let a small bit of emotion show. Jagdish had seen that distant look many times on the face of soldiers who had just been told an old comrade was gone. Ashok might have betrayed their Order, but he and Karno had been brothers once.
As had Jagdish…“I was told they held a great celebration in Devedas’ honor. He is the hero of the Capitol now.”
“I can’t believe it. This is wonderful!” Rada was ecstatic. When she laughed, Pari laughed too. “If he’s there, then I can finally go home. No more running. No more being a hostage to bitter men! You have no idea how much I miss my library. I thought I was going to have to go from here to hiding on another goat farm, or once again sleeping in the sand and having to shake scorpions from my shoes! I can go home!” Then it slowly dawned on her who she was speaking with, and a sudden and profound shame crossed her face. “Oh, Jagdish, I’m so sorry. Ashok was your friend, and I’m carrying on like a fool.”
“He was my friend, but I bear neither you nor your Lord Protector any ill will. We all have to march a different road. When we parted Ashok understood where his road would certainly lead. You’ll be told Ashok was a monster, and to some he was, but to me he was a man of honor, the likes of which the world has rarely seen.”
“He was the best of us…” Karno muttered, then abruptly stood up. “Pardon me. I must prepare for tomorrow.”
Jagdish understood. A warrior could show passion to the world, but never weakness.
“Are you alright?” Rada asked. “Leaving seems inappropriate.”
“I’m your Protector, not your chaperone. Say your goodbyes. We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow.”
Jagdish stood and gave a very respectful bow. “Farewell, Karno Uttara. Should we ever meet again, may it be while we are on the same side of the Law.”
Karno returned the gesture, then left.
After the door was closed, Jagdish returned to his cushions. “That’s an honorable man there. You’re in good hands, Rada.”
“Why would you say that about being on the other side of the Law from a Protector, though? Karno is just, and would never harm anyone who didn’t have it coming.”
“The Protectors frown on illegal house wars, while my orders are to hound Sarnobat until a full war breaks out, hoping they’ll send their bearer so we can kill him and take his sword. I’ve been told this bright, albeit illegal, strategy of Harta’s was originally suggested to him by an advisor from the Capitol. An odd young lady who has allegedly memorized as many books as Ashok Vadal has killed men.”
“Well, that last part is certainly an exaggeration. I don’t know if there’s that many books in all the Capitol.” Rada bounced Pari on her knee. “But you should know Harta had already decided on this plan long before he asked me to speak to his phonthos about the history of black steel blades. He’s a very calculating man.”
“I’ve gathered that. Which is why I assume I’ll be the one blamed for starting his illegal war.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it. Harta rewarded me with this rank because he couldn’t be seen punishing me, but to him I will always be the man who rode with Ashok, the fraud who caused his mother’s death and broke his family’s sword. Vadal will seize Sarnobat’s ancestor blade—should they be foolish enough to send it to the front—but eventually the Capitol will send the Protectors to restore order. That usually means executing everyone responsible, and I’ve already personally led half a dozen border incursions since spring.”
Rada was very smart, but not what Jagdish would consider worldly. Once she focused on a new idea, however, he could almost imagine her mind working like the complicated gears spinning in his clock. She was probably recalling some book about politics and finding historical examples that confirmed he was right properly damned.
“The judges can’t abide house wars. Harta gets the credit for your successes, his house gets a new ancestor blade, then you take the blame for his ambitions. This makes political sense…But what will you do? Surely you can’t just blunder on to your death.”
Jagdish shrugged as politics was a new world to him. “I don’t know yet. Except…maybe when the time comes for the Protectors to hang me, you could put in a word with your new husband that I was an excellent host.”
“I would, but Protectors have to step down from that obligation before they can wed, so I don’t know if Devedas would be able to sway them.”
“I was joking, Rada. I’ll figure it out. In the meantime, it’s no longer safe here for noncombatants. I’ll be sending Pari to live with her mother’s family for a time.” The idea of his flesh and blood being raised by bakers wounded his pride, but the front was no place for the innocent, and after today, there was no doubt he had succeeded in provoking a war. “Your idea—or Harta’s as it may be—isn’t a bad one. Vadal does need an ancestor blade, so this is our best chance to take one.”
“You’d save your house, just so it could sacrifice you?”
“I’ll do my duty, as we all must, no matter the difficulty or danger. Just like you or Karno did coming here, or your Devedas hunting Ashok, or even Ashok in his own manner, because there’s no way that man turned criminal by his own free will.”
Rada didn’t seem to care for that comparison. “Ashok is different, though. His whole identity was based on a lie. Ashok was made into something he was not.”
“Is that very different from what Harta did for me? Declaring me to be a hero rather than a criminal? I much prefer promotion to execution, but let’s not pretend my attaining this station was particularly honorable.”
“I meant no offense. I know something about obligations being twisted by lies. It’s how I got involved in all this mess to begin with…” Then Rada hesitated, like those extremely fast gears were struggling with a particularly hard decision. The last time Jagdish had seen her like that, she’d been deciding whether to tell him about her affair with Devedas or not.
“Spit it out.”
“You spent a lot of time around Angruvadal, that entire time Ashok was one of your prisoners and then more with him after the blade was broken. Did Ashok ever say anything about the black steel…talking to him? Or maybe it predicting the future?”
That was certainly a strange turn in the conversation. “I recall him talking about how it aided him. It retained the instincts of all who wielded it before, and I know that it would warn him of danger sometimes. Black steel is scary. I’ve seen wizards do incredible things with a tiny fragment, but an intact piece, who knows what that’s capable of? I’m not sure how—”
There was some commotion in the courtyard below. Jagdish rose to see that several horsemen had just arrived, and they were flying a banner he recognized. “Phontho Gotama…About time you showed your face, you son of a fish-eating whore.” So much for not being vulgar in front of a lady of the highest caste. “If you’d excuse me, Rada, I need to deal with this blight on my profession. Would you—”
“I’ve got Pari,” Rada assured him. “You’re not going to duel him, are you?”
“Of course not,” Jagdish said as he picked up his sword belt. “He’s too old. He’ll surely have a bodyguard stand as his proxy.”
She was aghast. “You warriors are maddening!”
Zaheer met him at the door. “Sir, Phontho Gotama is here.” His bodyguard noted his commander was buckling on his sword belt. “I see you are aware.”
“Oh, I’m aware.”
Jagdish pushed past him and went down the stairs, past the house slave bringing up his dinner, through the main hall that was currently serving as a field hospital, and out into the courtyard. Rada and Zaheer followed him. Jagdish didn’t even pause long enough to put on his shoes.
The delegation from the Mukesh Garrison was dismounting. Jagdish had briefly met Gotama once before but knew nothing about the man beyond his reputation of being smug, yet capable. Though equals in status, Gotama was twenty years Jagdish’s elder, which was a normal age for a phontho. Jagdish was extremely young to have risen to such a prestigious rank. Was today’s mistake actually some kind of attack against him? Had Gotama knowingly let raiders pass as some manner of payback against someone seen as an upstart, or a potential rival? It disgusted him that such behavior was even a possibility, and that any member of his caste could be so dishonorable as to risk the lives of fellow warriors, but the other possibility was incompetence, which was nearly as bad.
Jagdish walked with purpose across the courtyard. “Gotama!”
The other phontho was a tall, wiry man, with a shock of white hair, and many scars across his face. “Ah, Phontho Jagdish. It is good to see you are well and your house did not burn—”
“Are you a traitor or a fool?”
Jagdish’s angry words drew the attention of the entire estate. Many of his men were watching, some of them wearing bandages from the day’s conflict. The bodies had been carried outside for cremation, but the casteless were still washing off the blood. If anything, the assembled witnesses were just as displeased as Jagdish.
“I’m neither.” Gotama didn’t seem particularly surprised by this turn of events. “However, I see grave offense has been taken.”
“Offense has been given!”
As soon as Jagdish said those words—the legal prerequisite for a duel—the mood in the courtyard changed, because when a proud warrior claimed offense, bloodshed was almost certain to follow. Gotama’s bodyguards immediately moved protectively in front of their phontho.
Jagdish approached them, alone. If he were going to duel it would be here, beneath his fruit trees. He didn’t know how good Gotama’s chosen swordsman would be, but in the unlikely event he was better than Jagdish, let his last act be to water the grass.
Gotama’s men moved their hands to the hilts of their swords.
“Easy, lads. He’s right to be mad.” Gotama had clearly expected this sort of reception as a possibility, as he continued addressing Jagdish, friendly, but firm. “I’ve heard tales of your skill and fury, Jagdish, demon killer, so I’d rather not have it aimed at me. Calm yourself long enough to hear my words and understand that this offense was not intended.”
“It was your garrison’s duty to guard the border while mine was striking into Sarnobat, taking treasure and hostages for the glory of Vadal. Except I came home to find this.” Jagdish gestured at the ashen wreckage. “Explain yourself.”
“I’m not accustomed to anyone making demands of me other than Harta Vadal himself, but I understand your anger is a moral one. The seventh and tenth paltans of the Mukesh Garrison were supposed to be on patrol at the time the Sarnobat raiding party must have passed through. When I heard what happened my first inclination was to bring you the heads of those risalders in a sack as an apology, but I’ll have to spare their lives after I heard their explanation.”
“Which is?”
Gotama snapped his fingers, and another warrior rushed forward to hand him a piece of paper. Then he pushed past his bodyguards. When they went to follow him, he waved them away, and approached Jagdish on his own. That took an impressive amount of bravery considering Jagdish’s reputation as a duelist who had volunteered to spar against Black-Hearted Ashok every day. The older phontho held out the paper, and Jagdish snatched it from him.
The first thing he noticed was that the letter had been printed on a press, but there was a handwritten note at the bottom that had been personally signed and stamped by a senior judge of Great House Vadal and…“The Grand Inquisitor Omand Vokkan?”
“The golden mask himself. This letter was presented to my seventh and tenth, and they were immediately obligated to obey under penalty of Law and weren’t even given time to wait for another unit to send replacements. I’m lucky one of my risalders was disobedient enough to sneak off a runner with this to inform me or I wouldn’t have known at all. I’d have thought they were deserters.”
“Who commandeered your men?”
“Inquisitors,” Gotama said the word with so much sneering disgust that it must have taken all his will not to spit on the ground. Perhaps Jagdish had misjudged this man? “Several of them, a witch hunter among their number, arrived at the border checkpoint, told my men congratulations, we require all of you to escort us to our destination, so move out immediately, or face the wrath of the Law.”
“Those masked bastards.”
“Sarnobat must have been waiting on the other side, and when they saw their opportunity, they took it.”
“I can’t believe I came home to find the wolf at my door because of Inquisitors.”
“If you want to become even angrier, read the whole letter and see what they expect the rest of us to do. You can read, right?”
Jagdish snorted. Many warriors couldn’t, but everyone who served in the Personal Guard of House Vadal had to be literate, so he did. The hastily added note at the bottom said the bearers of this seal were authorized to claim whatever Vadal forces they wanted. It had been signed by a Vadal judge stationed in the Capitol, and it had likely come straight from there and had not gone through their Thakoor first. There was no way Harta—despite his many flaws—would remove defenses while trying to start a war.
Then there was the part that had been printed on a machine. That usually meant many copies had been made, so this message was intended for wide distribution. Jagdish’s frown deepened as he read through madness. “Every warrior is supposed to stop whatever we’re doing and go slaughter every single casteless we can find? What manner of idiotic nonsense is this? This isn’t Akershan. There’s no casteless rebellion in these lands. Is this what they took your soldiers away to do? Kill defenseless non-people?”
“No. They’re to be used for guard duty for some secret Inquisition business to the northeast. I recognize your disgust, Jagdish, because I share it. This dereliction of duty brought violence to your house, and shame to my name.” Then Gotama surprised him again, by giving Jagdish a respectful bow, exposing his neck to the sword. “My sincere apologies.”
This was not at all what he had expected. Jagdish rubbed his face in his hands and said, “Stand up. Now I’m embarrassed for both of us.”
Gotama rose and gave him a knowing smirk. “I suspected you would be a man of reason. Others say it must have taken a savage to hunt down swamp wizards, but I wagered anyone who could pull off such a feat and live had to be clever as well. I am glad I guessed correctly.”
“Are you two still going to duel?” Rada asked hesitantly, from a safe distance away. “I’d rather not approach with a child in my arms if there’s going to be swords swinging about.”
“We’re good.” Jagdish raised his voice so the whole estate could hear. “Offense has been forgotten. All is well.”
Many of his men looked disappointed, because they had seen how good Jagdish was with a blade. Gotama’s bodyguards seemed very relieved. They must have heard the tales.
“It will be truly well when these disrespectful Inquisitors are forced to choke on this note.” Gotama kept his voice low so only Jagdish would hear. “I thought you might like to come with me to reclaim my soldiers? The masks might be prideful enough to be discourteous to one phontho, but even they can’t be dumb enough to disrespect two. They have a day’s head start on us. We should be able to catch them and be back before Sarnobat gets up to anything new.”
“I like this plan. Agreed.”
Rada came over. “May I see that letter?” Jagdish gave it to her, only to have her squint and move it back and forth before her eyes. “Drat. I miss my glasses.”
“Is this lovely young lady your wife, Jagdish?”
“My wife is dead. The child is mine. This woman is a guest of my house.”
“Apologies again.” Then Gotama cocked his head to the side. “A widower, eh? You know, I have an unmarried daughter.”
“Not now,” Jagdish told him, because Rada appeared to be under great distress.
“You spoke of the casteless, Jagdish? What did it say about them?”
The letter was so grisly and outlandish that it was difficult to summarize. “It says the Law requires the killing of all the non-people in Lok. Every last one. The workers are supposed to deprive them of food and water, while we warriors are supposed to put them to the sword, burn them, or drown them in the sea. It’s to be called—”
“The Great Extermination,” Rada whispered, horrified.
“You know of this?”
“It’s all my fault.”