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Chapter 3

His old friend Jagdish had achieved much since Ashok had last seen him, carrying demon bones into a swamp on a mule train with Gutch. Night had fallen as the two of them sat on the banks of the swiftly moving Martaban. Ashok had listened to Jagdish’s tale and had to admit at the end, “I am truly impressed you went from risalder of a gang of criminals, to commanding all the armies of Great House Vadal. I should never have doubted when you told me you would redeem your name. I was certain Harta would have you killed.”

“Well, he was sorely tempted! I can’t say there weren’t a few bumps along the way. I got to spend some time in Cold Stream.”

“As warden again?”

“Naw, as a prisoner. I much preferred being the warden!”

The river was wide here and deep enough to easily conceal demons, but Ashok did not sense their foul presence nearby. He still maintained his distrust of water, for it was the home of evil, but this was the only place the two of them could speak freely away from the ears of Jagdish’s men.

“Do you think your new Thakoor will heed my warning?”

“Ah, yes, the warning of the man who is responsible for his grandmother cutting her own face off and bringing years of shame and disorder and eventually war to our house?” Jagdish took a drink from his bottle of wine, thought it over, then took another. “Most certainly not. Thakoor Bhadramunda is young, but he is no fool. Now me, on the other hand, the unlikely war hero entrusted by his wise father Harta to save their house in its direst hour, who has resoundingly done so, outwitting not one, but two rival great houses in battle…? Maybe, he’ll listen. So I’ll do the talking while you stay in the distance, being your menacing criminal self.”

It was a good plan. “You seem far more astute in the ways of the courts now, Phontho.”

“Not really, but politics is a sport to my new wife, so I’ve learned a thing or two from her.”

Jagdish had grown melancholy as he’d told Ashok of Pakpa’s death during childbirth, but he seemed to take great joy in the companionship of her replacement. “That is good. You should seek her insight before you approach your Thakoor.”

“Oh, I surely will. Though she’s probably going to tell me I’m a fool, having once again established my name, to promptly taint it once more by association with you.

Ashok spread his hands apologetically.

Jagdish snorted. “Though what can Vadal’s First say now, after the dreaded Black Heart arrived in our house’s darkest time of need to turn a battle in our favor? Perhaps that will make them hate you slightly less.”

Ashok had scrubbed the blood from his body, but not his conscience. He had been carried across the sky by wizards—a most disconcerting journey—in order to keep warriors from killing each other, so they could be better spent fighting demons. Instead, he’d killed or injured over a hundred of them himself in a matter of minutes. Yet he knew that if he’d not acted with such swift and overwhelming brutality, the death toll from allowing the battle to continue would have been far higher. Life had been simpler when such thoughts had never troubled him.

“From above I could see that one army was far bigger than the other. It was an interesting perspective. I did what was necessary.”

“Being alive and victorious right now rather than dead or a Vokkan hostage, I’m inclined to agree.” Jagdish chuckled. “I thought I had them there, though. It pained me to let Yaduvir walk, but I trust you.”

Ashok would not have his efforts be in vain. “You must convince your Thakoor, Jagdish. In Kanok, there were dozens of demons. In the Capitol, there were hundreds. I do not know what manner of hell will rise from beneath Vadal City, but I fear all the seas will empty, as every demon in the world makes its way here.”

“You know, this is a lot to take in, Ashok. You gave me all of a few minutes to rejoice I’d won one war, just so you could tell me there’s a new, worse one looming. Why Kanok and then the Capitol? If our hometown is this Great City of Man from the olden times as you say, and that thing in Thera’s head declares this is that pivotal place where all must be won or all is lost, why not hit Vadal first? If there’s a tunnel that crosses all of Lok beneath our feet, why didn’t the demons invade from the northern coast instead of the south?”

It was a sound question. Jagdish had always had a head for strategy. “The Fortress folk have an Order of treasure hunters who explore those deep roads. They are called Collectors. I asked the one who has joined my army this same thing. He said that the ancients sealed the north end of the main tunnel with an invisible barrier to keep the demons out long ago. That barrier must still stand, otherwise they could have entered there. The ancients sealed that northern passage after the other continents were lost to the rain of demons.”

“Other continents?” Jagdish mulled that over, then took another drink, not knowing what to think of that strange concept. “What are those like, I wonder?”

Ashok shrugged. “Who knows? The collectors say the entire world was once connected by these unseen routes, but they are lost to us now.”

“The same way man used to cross the oceans in big boats and had harbors to put them in, like the ruins we saw in Bhadjangal, before it got flooded and turned into the House of Assassins…Our ancestors really got around before the demons wrecked everything, didn’t they?”

“The ancients also built cities far beneath the world, protected by these same impenetrable barriers. I have seen one, gone to rot and decay, but still standing, row upon row of buildings grander than anything in the Capitol. I fought and killed a mad god there.”

Jagdish looked at the bottle. “I’m going to need more wine.”

They had both been busy since they’d last ridden together. “Regardless of what powerful magic the ancients left behind to safeguard their descendants, most of those measures have been used up now. The demons must understand this and that is why they are attacking. It is up to us now.”

“I know a bit about those safeguards and shields myself, Ashok. I stood beneath a pillar of fire that shot down from the sky so hot it melted the rocks around us while my beard was not so much as singed.” Being a proper warrior, Jagdish could not be outdone by his friend dueling a mad god. “See? You’re not the only one who can share tales of seemingly outlandish events.”

Jagdish was trying to make light of the situation, but Ashok knew all these events had to be intertwined. “A warrior girl was struck by a bolt from the heavens which enabled her to channel the Voice. Around the same time, a casteless blood-scrubber boy was chosen by an ancestor blade. The only bloodline which was prophesied capable of stopping the demons was nearly eradicated, and now the demons are upon us. For good or ill, this is the end, Jagdish.”

“Sadly…I do believe you. It’s a terrible failing of mine that I keep believing you—no matter how much trouble it causes me—because you have an annoying tendency to be right. Now it seems all I must do is convince Thakoor Bhadramunda Vadal to trust in the seemingly lunatic tale of the greatest criminal who has ever lived.”

“He must also trust the Maharaja.”

Jagdish laughed until he wheezed. “Sure! The would-be king who supposedly came to help Vadal, but invaded us instead, and then sent assassins to my wedding to poison our leader…Wait. Are you actually suggesting…?”

Ashok had not yet had the chance to explain his current alliance. “Devedas is on his way here now to fight the demons. He brings with him what is left of the Capitol’s forces and has been gathering more along the way. He has also summoned all the Protectors and remaining Inquisitors to meet in Vadal.”

“You can’t be serious…Damn it. You are serious…Devedas sent murderers into my home, Ashok.”

“I do not think he did. Devedas tried to conquer Vadal, yet he denies sending assassins. He swore to me those were minions of Grand Inquisitor Omand, who has since fled. His location is unknown. I make no excuses for Devedas’ actions, but I believe that to be the truth. Condemn Devedas for what he has done after the demons are defeated, for if they are not, your offense—no matter how righteous it may be—will not matter.”

It spoke to Jagdish’s character that was able to control his anger. “The last time the Capitol said they were coming to help against demons, we ended up with their army strangling us, only this time they promise to be good? Are there any other potential invaders you wish for me to make excuses for?”

“Before leaving the Capitol, Devedas issued a proclamation to every house, asking for them to send warriors here to help repel the demons. Having witnessed firsthand the difference Angruvadal makes against demons, Devedas made a special plea for the bearers of the ancestor blades to come here as well.”

Would any of the other bearers actually do so? Ashok didn’t know. Even if they respected Devedas, which was doubtful now with the Capitol being gutted, what great house would willingly risk such precious treasures in a distant land?

Jagdish sighed, resigned to his fate. “So, it’s merely the legendary criminal who has wronged us and his infamous Sons of the Black Sword, a thousand Fortress maniacs armed with their illegal alchemy, wizards, Protectors, Inquisitors, houses both friend and foe, and even other ancestor blades? Oceans, Ashok, should I tell my new Thakoor that you intend to call Keta’s gods down from the sky to fight alongside us too?”

“I have extended the invitation to them. I do not know if they will reply.”

Jagdish grimaced, unable to tell if that was one of Ashok’s rare attempts at humor or not. “Alright. I promise nothing, but I’ll see what I can do.”

That was all Ashok could ask. Jagdish was one of the few people in the world Ashok considered a friend, and, more importantly, an honorable man. It seemed time had not changed his nature. “Thank you. With your permission, I would travel with you to Vadal City. I will send the wizards who brought me here back to report.”

“That would be for the best. Have them tell that snow weasel Devedas he’d best be prepared to kiss the feet of Thakoor Bhadramunda Vadal to beg forgiveness for all the offense he’s given.” Jagdish spit on the ground. Someone in the army camp began calling for their phontho, because a good commander’s work was never truly over. “Sounds like I’m needed. If you’ll excuse me, we’ll have to continue piling more onerous details onto my already insurmountable task later.”

“It has been good to see you again, brother.”

Jagdish stood up with a grunt and limped away on a swollen knee. It was the same leg that Ashok had broken once. “Welcome home, Ashok.”

Ashok just shook his head at that and went back to watching the light of Canda reflecting off the river.

“Indeed…Welcome back to Vadal, Ashok who stole its name.”

Angruvadal warned Ashok that he was in the presence of an incredible danger.

Glancing over, he saw a dark figure standing on the bank only a few yards away, dressed in a voluminous black cloak, with his face obscured by a hood.

“I stole nothing. That name was given as a replacement for the one which was taken from me.”

“Tell yourself whatever you will. This land is where life began for you. This is where it will end. Vadal was where a non-person was born and where a hero will die.”

Though Ashok had been alert as always, he hadn’t heard the stranger’s approach, which suggested he was dealing with a wizard of some sort. Strangest of all, the instincts embedded in his sword offered no suggestions how to counter this potential threat, because none of the previous bearers of either ancestor blade had ever encountered someone—or perhaps something—like this.

Most curious.

“Who are you?”

“Do you not recognize me?” The hood turned, and from the shadows beneath was revealed the leering face of the Law. It was the golden mask of the Grand Inquisitor.

“I have met Omand Vokkan. He is middle-aged and gone to softness.”

“Your cruel words wound me.”

From the voice, this man was in the prime of his life, and even wrapped in robes, Ashok’s experienced eye could tell that this stranger carried himself like a fit and experienced combatant. With the Capitol in exile, Devedas had certainly not had a new Grand Inquisitor appointed in the day since Ashok had last seen him. “You are not Omand Vokkan. Name yourself, imposter.”

“I am truly he. Only I have been forever changed into something greater than before by immersing myself in the font of all magic.”

Ashok sensed no lie. So if this was truly the Grand Inquisitor himself, then this immersion he spoke of was sufficient to make Angruvadal nervous. “What have you become, then?”

“Something greater that you can understand. Though now that I see you in person, Ashok, it appears you too have been turned into something more than you were as well. We are both unique specimens. You have come a long way since I condemned you in a stinking prison cell, casteless fraud.”

“Unlike you, my fraud was unwilling.” Ashok had been waiting a long time for this meeting. He wasn’t even angry. It was more that for the world to go on, some men were so evil it was simply necessary that they die. “Offense has been taken, Grand Inquisitor.”

“You dare threaten me? My, you have changed not just in physical capability, but in temperament as well. The old Ashok was subservient. A slave to the Law. An unthinking, witless, tool whose only purpose was to be used as a weapon by his betters.”

“I chose to live for something other than the Law.” Ashok supposed he had Omand to thank for that, for if he’d not commanded him to serve Thera, Ashok would surely have gone to some miserable purposeless end by now. Except that accidental kindness was not nearly enough to make up for Omand’s crimes. “The punishment you meant to destroy me, saved me instead.”

“A terrible miscalculation on my part. It would not be the last time I underestimated just how tenaciously the casteless would cling to their meaningless lives. You were useful to me once. I have come to see if you might be of use to me again, or if I should just destroy you and be done with it. Though it appears you were of use to others during that time as well. I suspect you were one of those guided by the Mother of Dawn?”

“She appeared to me at times.”

Omand spoke with smug pride. “She is gone now. I destroyed her.”

That was unfortunate. Ashok had never understood what Mother Dawn was, or her true motives, but her actions had always provided aid to Thera’s rebels. Most of the loyal fanatics who had joined the Sons had found them because of her directions, as somehow she always knew where they would be, long before they decided to go there.

“Then her name will be added to the list of those who will be avenged when I take your life.”

“What a long list that must be…I listened to you make your plea to that warrior. Do you wish to know the real reason the demons have chosen to attack us now, after all these centuries? It’s because I deceived them into believing the bloodline of Ramrowan had been almost entirely wiped out by the Great Extermination.”

“Many of the casteless have survived despite your best efforts.”

“The demons do not know that. The casteless served their purpose to me, the same as you did. I would have been able to stop the demons easily by myself if Mother Dawn’s treachery had not robbed me of the rest of my birthright.”

“What is that?”

“I speak of godhood, Ashok Vadal.” Omand raised his gloved hands and curled them into fists before him. “My life’s work has been to seize for myself the power of the ancients. I procured only a small part of that inheritance before she tricked me, and the rest has been locked away. The power I hold now is beyond your comprehension, yet it is not limitless as intended. That’s why I’ve come here to examine you instead of simply willing all my potential competitors into oblivion.”

Ashok recalled the prophecies of the Fortress monks about the forces who would compete to rule the next age. “So you are the Night Father.”

The mask tilted to the side, curious. “I do not know the meaning of this title.”

“No matter. You will not be the first god I have killed. I pitied the Dvarapala. I despise you.”

The robed figure floated a bit closer. The black-pit eyes of the golden mask studied him. “Ah, I can see now that the Forgotten has taken the Law’s weapon and turned it into his own. Magic fills your blood. It infuses your bones. Perhaps you may still be of some use to me after all, Black Heart. Maybe the old gods’ contingency plans might even prove sufficient to defeat the armies of hell.”

Ashok took one last look at the river, then stood up and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. He turned toward Omand. “I said offense has been taken. Accept my challenge and make this a duel, or do not accept, and it will be a murder. Either way, I intend to kill you.”

An evil laugh echoed from behind the golden mask. “I will admit that great offense has been given by me against the laws of both man and gods, and I have only just begun to offend.”

Lightning quick, Ashok drew and slashed.

The black robes parted like smoke before Angruvadal. The Grand Inquisitor broke into bits and drifted away on the wind.

There was no one there.

Omand’s voice came from somewhere far across the water. “You cannot harm me, Ashok. Only a god can kill a god. Yet, why should I slay you now when I can let you and the demons kill each other for me? They are compelled to slaughter. You are compelled to protect. Your battle is inevitable. The winner will be weakened, and then I will have my reckoning.”

Ashok sheathed Angruvadal and growled at the darkness. “I will be waiting.”


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