Chapter 13
“Stop whatever you are doing, Ashok Vadal, and come out to fight me!”
Ashok had been conferring with two of his officers inside the Sons’ camp. He looked over and saw Jagdish quickly approaching, and wondered why the phontho of Great House Vadal was carrying a pair of wooden practice swords. Several of his officers were trying to keep up with their leader, but Jagdish was clearly too excited to worry about decorum.
“What’s all this?”
“It’s time we had us a rematch, old friend.”
“Right now?”
“Yes, right now.” Jagdish tossed one of the wooden swords Ashok’s way.
He reflexively caught it. “Does Vadal’s supreme commander not have anything more important to do?”
“I’ve got a long list of duties that need attending to.” Jagdish grinned as he spun his wooden sword a few times to stretch the muscles of his arm and wrist. “Which is why I’m going to make this quick.”
Most encounters against Ashok were over fast, yet he had always enjoyed sparring against Jagdish. While he had been confined to Cold Stream Prison, Jagdish had been a relentless challenger and dedicated student, testing himself against his undefeatable opponent nearly every day. Those sparring sessions had been the only enjoyable thing about the miserable time he’d spent in prison while awaiting his sentence.
Jagdish was grinning like a fool. “Trust me, Ashok. This will be a good fight.”
Perhaps it would be good to take a break from the monotony of preparing for an invasion. “As you wish, Phontho.”
“You heard your general, fanatics!” Jagdish shouted at the nearby Sons. “My challenge has been accepted. Now stand back and give us some room.”
The men were eager for the show. What soldier wouldn’t enjoy unexpectedly watching his commander fight? Especially when one was a noted swordsman, and the other was a living legend. Warriors of both factions hurried out of the way, leaving the two commanders alone on the grassy area between some tents and wagons.
Most of the Sons only knew of Jagdish by reputation, but Shekar Somsak and Eklavya had been there since near the beginning and had both served under Jagdish when he had been the Sons’ first risalder. Ashok knew they loved the man like their flesh-and-blood older brother. Those two officers shared an excited glance, because they had watched this match play out many times before. They too had trained against unstoppable Ashok, especially in those early days when their numbers had been few. Though none of the men had ever come anywhere near besting him, Jagdish had come the closest. It had still been a vast gulf between them, but all things were relative.
“I always loved these beatings,” Shekar crowed, before bragging to the gathering crowd. “Back when there weren’t so many of us, we all got to try ourselves against Ashok to get humbled. Watch and learn, boys!”
One of the men who had come with Jagdish was wearing a Vadal uniform but with a wolf pelt over his shoulder like a warrior of Sarnobat. “It is an incredible honor to finally meet the Forgotten’s Warrior, but please, Lord Ashok, do not kill foolish Jagdish for daring to challenge you. I think the gods might still need him.”
“Not now, Najmul!”
“You have begun collecting your own religious fanatics?” Ashok asked.
“It’s a long story.” Jagdish brought his wooden sword up in a salute. “Cold Stream rules?”
Those had been the agreed-upon terms for their sparring sessions in prison. It meant he would not use Angruvadal and would try his best to not injure Jagdish too severely. The prison had needed its warden conscious and with unbroken bones. There had never been a corresponding consideration for Jagdish to try not to injure Ashok, because frankly, it was highly doubtful that he’d ever be able to anyway, no matter how hard he tried.
“Cold Stream rules.” Ashok returned the salute. “Let us begin.”
The two of them circled. As expected, Jagdish’s stance seemed competent as ever. He had always been strong, but his footwork would never be considered graceful. Jagdish had never been a naturally gifted swordsman but had become a very proficient one through tireless effort. There were never any shocking breakthroughs for a warrior like Jagdish, just an endless grind to become a bit better somehow. Stick with that long enough and even a clumsy man could become a good duelist, and Jagdish was certainly not clumsy.
Ashok was still curious as to what had brought about this sudden challenge. He got his answer when Jagdish launched his first attack with Protector speed.
Narrowly avoiding a sudden thrust, Ashok had to pivot to block the wooden sword inches from his body. Without hesitation, Jagdish struck again. He used the traditional Vadal style of powerful overhead strikes, which could quickly turn into vicious curving slashes. It was a technique Ashok knew well, but Jagdish launched twenty attacks in the same time in which a regular man might send five. Dents were driven into the hardwood as Ashok anticipated and caught each blow. Faster than a man could blink, the wooden sword kept coming. The last was a wide flashing arc that forced Ashok to dive and roll away.
When Ashok came back up, he found that Jagdish was beaming. “I almost got you that time!”
“Nearly so.” Ashok nodded respectfully, for Karno had chosen his first obligations well. “Well done, Defender Jagdish.”
The crowd was gaping at both of them. Even the haughty Sarnobat bodyguard seemed awed by his master’s incredible speed, but neither Ashok nor Jagdish could speak about the existence of the second Heart in public. Though Shekar and Eklavya both grinned nearly as wide as Jagdish at the mention of the new Order, for both of them had been interviewed by Karno as potential candidates. Those two had been around Ashok long enough to grasp just how superior a Protector was to a normal warrior, and it was a nearly inconceivable dream that such magical might could be bestowed upon those who had so recently been disgraced criminals.
“I think I understand you a bit better now, Ashok.”
“If you truly understood me, Jagdish, you would not have tried to defeat me.”
Jagdish charged again, but now knowing what he faced, Ashok moved aside easily. As Jagdish made himself faster, Ashok easily matched the unnatural speed. When the wooden swords crossed, Ashok shoved his opponent away.
“Impressive, Jagdish, but you have much to learn still. Let us continue your education.”
“That sounds menacing.”
This time Ashok set the pace, and even drawing magical might to his muscles, all Jagdish could do was try to survive. He managed to counter Ashok’s strikes, but Ashok wasn’t just physically fearsome. There was so much more to it than that. Fighting was a contest of technique and instinct. Even without drawing upon his connection to the memories embedded in black steel, Ashok could still anticipate everything his foe would do. He knew Jagdish’s thoughts before he had them.
Ashok leaned back as the wooden sword flew past his neck close enough to rustle the hair of his beard, and promptly jabbed Jagdish in the ribs for the trouble.
Jagdish staggered away, breathing hard. “Oceans!”
“Fast is better than slow. Strong is better than weak.” Ashok tapped the side of his head. “But the battle is won in here.”
It would take time and practice for these new Defenders to grasp the full potential of their magic. The Heart could do many things, but it could only do one of them at once. It could make a man stronger, faster, tougher, improve any one of his senses, or even be directed to heal wounds at an incredible rate. Once mastered, anyone who touched the Heart would be capable of incredible feats. Ashok was thankful that Devedas had the wisdom to use such a mighty force against the demons, but for these men to be effective, learning would have to occur.
Jagdish leapt through the air, far higher than a normal man was capable of. Ashok stepped aside and the wooden sword hit nothing but dirt. Jagdish went after him immediately, striking furiously with a series of powerful blows that would have staggered any regular adversary. Ashok calmly caught each, darted around the last, and hit Jagdish in the lower back. The wooden sword left a bruise. If it had been a regular sword it would have sliced through a kidney. If it had been Angruvadal it would have cut him in half.
“Ah.” Jagdish winced at the sharp pain. That would give him a chance to practice using the Heart’s healing magic. Ashok was benevolent like that. “Saltwater!”
“It was a fine effort.”
“I still can’t beat you.”
“Yet you came closer than ever before.”
Jagdish realized that was true and cackled with glee. “That I did!”
Ashok had given that compliment for the benefit of the observers. Let them be inspired by what fearsome combatants their leaders were. The men from both armies would be left awed by the display of martial prowess they had just seen, and there could be no shame in losing to the legendary Black Heart. Then Ashok went over to Jagdish and placed one hand on the back of his head and drew him close so only Jagdish could hear his words.
“Don’t let pride trick you, brother. You have twenty thousand men who can swing a sword. They have one who can lead them as you do. Do not fall into the trap of thinking this gift is about individual might. Think bigger. Think like the man who once broke an entire army’s spirit with smoke from hot peppers. With the Heart you are a commander who can see the entire battlefield, whose orders can be heard across a city, and who can refuse to die from his wounds until the conflict is done. You do not need to beat me, because you are already better than I am.”
“That’s a lie,” Jagdish whispered back.
“As a swordsman, yes, but as a leader…as a man, you are far greater than I have ever been, Jagdish. Remember that.”
Coming from Ashok, that was powerful praise. The witnesses probably thought Jagdish was wiping sweat from his brow, not an unbidden tear from his eye. “I’ll remember.”
“Good. Use this new power wisely. Do not squander it.”
“I still had to try to take you though, didn’t I?”
The genuinely made Ashok laugh, and he embraced his brother. “Never change, Jagdish.”