Chapter 8
Their second day on the Akershan plains, they came across the scene of a massacre.
It had been a small settlement, just five of the gray homes that were common here, but the casteless knew how to pack a great many bodies into a small living space.
Tattered bits of fabric whipped in the wind. The felt walls had been slashed open, their inhabitants dragged out and put to the sword. Ashok stood in the packed dirt circle in the middle of the homes and counted the dead.
It was mostly women and children, all casteless. They’d been thrown in a pile for the buzzards, right atop the fire pit where they’d cooked their meals. From the look of the bodies, they’d been killed recently, in the late afternoon.
“General.” Shekar Somsak ran up to Ashok. “I’ve got the trail.”
Shekar had been with them since Jharlang. Like all the Somsak raiders, his body was tattooed to commemorate his many battles. Since Shekar had been the most cautious and strategic of that hot-blooded house, Jagdish had appointed him to be one of his two havildars. However, more importantly to Ashok right now was that the Somsak were excellent trackers.
“Report.”
“It was about fifty on horseback who did this. They came from the east, and they’re headed west.” He gestured toward the setting sun. Since the Wild Men also practiced the art of tattooing, Shekar had a new demon taking up most of that arm, celebrating the Sons’ victory in the swamp. The skin was still red and healing.
“Was this the work of warriors or criminals?”
“From the uniform horseshoes and the matching boots from the dismounts, I’d say regular cavalry soldiers.”
Why would Great House Akershan send a full paltan to slaughter this isolated group of casteless? But more importantly, if warriors were actively patrolling this region, how would his slow column be able to avoid them? According to Thera’s directions they were still weeks from Keta’s hideout at their column’s plodding pace.
“Alert the others. Tell the prophet that I need to speak with her. We have to change our plans.”
Shekar immediately complied, sprinting off through the tall grass. Grass was the only thing this poor land had in abundance.
Ashok went back to examining the settlement. He’d done this sort of work before, killing whole villages. He’d taken no joy from such duties, but he’d still done it because the Law had required it. He wondered what crime these non-people had committed that had been so great it had required all their deaths? There were no men of fighting age, which suggested they were probably off getting into trouble. Had Thera’s rebellion been the cause here?
There was a noise from way out in the grass. He’d assumed there had been no survivors, but that had sounded like a moan. Hand on his sword, Ashok began walking in that direction. He found grass which had been bent as if someone had crashed through it. He spotted droplets of blood dried on a flat rock. Apparently, the warriors had missed someone. Ashok was no Somsak, but he could follow this haphazard trail easily enough. The injured man had run, bleeding, until he’d fallen, and then he’d crawled for a time.
Akershan wasn’t nearly as flat as people from the other houses commonly believed. It was because as you looked out over the endless grasslands you couldn’t really see all the swells and gullies that crossed the land. Only at sunset or sunrise could you see the terrain features by the shadows they cast.
He found the man lying at the bottom of one of those gullies, on his side, in a puddle turned pink from blood. Surprisingly, he was in a warrior’s garb, and had the insignia of Great House Akershan on his sleeve.
At first Ashok thought that maybe this one had been wounded by the casteless, and then left behind by his companions, but that made no sense. The arrow stuck in his back was obviously of quality, more likely from the warrior caste than something unskilled non-people could make, but that didn’t mean a rebel couldn’t steal a bow and a quiver…Take his own Sons of the Black Sword for example. They were rebels and rather well equipped.
The warrior moaned again. So he’d not bled to death quite yet. Ashok walked over to him.
The injured man heard Ashok’s boots splashing through the puddle and jerked awake. He grasped instinctively for his sword, but the scabbard at his side was empty. The sudden movement must have shifted the arrow, for he winced against the pain.
“Calm yourself. I mean you no harm.” He knelt next to the warrior, who was quite a bit younger than Ashok, but it was hard to tell with his face so swollen and cut up. In addition to the arrow, he’d also received a severe beating. From the look of him, Ashok guessed that he’d been shot in the back, and then several men had stomped and kicked him, then left him to die. He must have come to and tried to flee after that.
“What happened here?”
“I couldn’t do it.” The warrior had gone gray from lack of blood. Ashok knew that feeling, sinking into a cold fog.
“Couldn’t do what?”
“Kill them. Kill them like that.” Eyes wide and terrified, he was near the endless nothing, and he knew it. “They did no harm. But kill ’em all. That’s orders. But these were babies. Just babies.”
“You disobeyed your orders?”
“Weren’t gonna spear no babies.” Surprisingly, the warrior began to laugh, but it was more of a soft wheeze. “I punched that Inquisitor right in his mask.”
Law-breaking disobedience still offended Ashok to his core, but recently he’d started finding the idea of harming Inquisitors amused him. Hopefully this defiant one would live, and not just because Ashok wanted to interrogate him. Upon inspection, it was obvious the arrow had struck the shoulder blade, and from the amount of shaft sticking out, it had ground out on the bone. If any vital organs had been pierced, he’d already have bled out.
“What is your name, Warrior?”
“Rane.”
“I’ll help you, Rane Akershan, but I need you to answer my questions.”
The warrior was weak and wheezing, but he was focused now. “To the oceans with Akershan. I was obligated to them from vassal house Garo. That’s why they treated me like this.”
“Your orders were to kill all the casteless, why?”
“Kill ’em all they said. The whole province full.”
That made no sense. “All of them?”
“Every last one. Great Extermination the masks called it. Every warrior available is being sent here to fight…But most of us didn’t want to. This ain’t war, its butchery.”
“Your paltan, where were they headed?”
“We were to clean out Dhakhantar in the morning. There’s supposed to be three or four hundred untouchables there.”
Ashok unwound the sash from his waist. “Last question. Akershani arrows, are they broad heads or points?”
“For hunting casteless, they told us to pack our cheapest iron bodkins. Why?”
“Pulling out a flesh cutter can cause more damage.”
“Wait—”
From experience he knew it was best to not give them too much warning. Ashok grabbed hold of the shaft and yanked it straight out of the warrior’s back. This caused a scream, which was justifiable, considering the narrow point had been lodged in the bone. As the warrior faded back into unconsciousness, Ashok used his sash to staunch the bleeding. Then he hoisted him out of the mud, threw him over his shoulders, and ran back toward the others.
The column was drawing near the casteless camp. As Ashok approached, he saw that Shekar had already spread the word, because they were preparing to fight. The Wild Men were readying their bows. The Sons of the Black Sword were donning their armor. The young and vulnerable were being herded toward the safety of the center.
“I’ve got a wounded man here. Fetch the surgeon.”
Some of the hunters ran off to get the tribal healer. She was more of an insane witch doctor than a proper surgeon, but he’d seen her work in the swamp. When it came to stitching wounds or setting bones, she was competent enough.
His arrival drew a curious crowd. A pair of hunters took the warrior from him.
“Watch it. He’s got a puncture wound to the back.”
Eklavya Kharsawan was his other havildar, and the serious young man looked worried. Where the Somsak were natural raiders always itching for a fight, the warriors of Kharsawan tended to be cautious and defense minded. Jagdish had liked getting wildly divergent perspectives from his junior officers.
“Shekar told us there’re patrols around. Your orders, General?”
“It appears you’re already doing the correct thing. Where’s Thera?”
“She wanted to see the massacre for herself.”
Ashok started back toward the settlement, and then he paused. He had to ask himself what a proper military leader like Jagdish would do in this situation. “Tell them no fires in the camp tonight. In this terrain they can be seen for miles. Gather all the Sons who come from Akershan lands. Make sure they’re willing to shed their brothers’ blood. If not, place them with the noncombatants. If they are willing to fight, then they need to tell us everything they can of their house’s tactics.”
“Right away.” Eklavya began shouting names as Ashok walked away. Those that could hear his voice came running, and the rest were passed down the line.
Ashok found Thera amid the gray homes, standing in front of the corpse pile. She had her head down and one hand pressed tight over her mouth.
Murugan and another of the Sons were guarding her, and both of them looked grim. “Leave us for a moment,” Ashok said. They immediately did as they were told.
He couldn’t see her expression because her long hair was whipping in the wind. He went to Thera’s side, unsure how she would react to such slaughter. Would it be grief? Shock? But instead he found her with teeth clenched, staring at the bodies with narrowed, furious eyes. Of course. He should have known. She had been raised warrior caste.
“Was this because of the rebellion, Ashok? Is this because of me?”
“I don’t know their reasoning yet, but the Akershani warriors have been dispatched to kill all the non-people in this region.”
“Don’t call them that! These were people! Just like us. Just like the great-house families. I don’t give a damn what the Law calls them. They say they aren’t real, so they can justify sending men like you to treat them like this!”
Ashok merely nodded.
“Never call them non-people again,” she muttered as she knelt next to the corpse of a little girl. “Please.”
“As you wish.” Even knowing he was one of them, even after coming to know many of them as real flesh and blood beings, with feelings, wants, accomplishments, and flaws, it would be a difficult habit to break. There was a power in words.
“They really intend to kill them all?” Thera whispered.
“I have no reason to doubt the injured warrior I found. The paltan who did this is riding in the same direction we are. Even on horseback they’re only a few hours ahead of us, but they’ll need to camp for the night. If we want to avoid them—”
“Avoid them?” Thera snarled. “I want you to kill them. I want you to punish them for this.”
She was normally more calculating than that. Something here had affected her deeply. “That wouldn’t be wise.”
“All those years you were murdering everyone who even looked at the Law crossways, did you ever stop and care about the wisdom of it?”
“Not really. I was expendable. But if this paltan does not arrive at their destination, more will be dispatched to check on them. It is not my safety I’m concerned about.”
No matter how much righteous anger she was feeling, it wouldn’t spare the lives of her followers from the warrior caste’s wrath, and she knew it. Thera took a deep breath. “This isn’t right, Ashok.”
It may not be right, but it was legal. And that thought made Ashok deeply uncomfortable. As a Protector he’d never given much thought to what happened after his grisly work had been done. In a way, he wanted nothing more than to chase down these cowards and let them face an opponent who could actually fight back, even if it wasn’t prudent.
“I did this,” she said.
“It’s not your fault.”
“Isn’t it? Why is this pile just mothers and children?” She had noticed the same thing he had. “It’s probably because the ones who can fight have run off, inspired by the Voice. Inspired by those damnable prophecies. They’re off picking fights they can’t win, because they believe in Keta’s fairy tales.” Thera used her damaged fingertips to brush aside a lock of hair that was covering the little girl’s face. “This is my doing. I caused an uprising, and now they’re getting stepped on like bugs.”
He couldn’t argue, because she was probably right. The Law had very little patience for rebellion. “I don’t know what caused this, but if you send me to collect heads, then you will be responsible for the repercussions. An attack will surely bring a response.”
“Saltwater,” Thera muttered. “We’re still a long way from the Cove.”
“A very long way, and we weren’t expecting this much activity in the region either. They might catch us even if we try to remain unnoticed. They might even find us if we turn back and flee for the swamp. Our trail is impossible to hide and will look like casteless fleeing for the border.”
“So we’re damned no matter what.”
“Before you make a decision, you must know the warriors who did this will be striking another casteless quarter tomorrow.”
“How many live there?”
“I was told that one is home to a few hundred. But if the warriors are truly coming for all of the casteless in this province, that’s only a fraction of how many will perish in all.”
Thera was silent for a long time. The only sound was the buzzing of flies. Finally, she stood up and dusted her hands off on her coat.
“You know, Ashok, I’ve always looked out for myself. Nobody else was my problem. I survived because of that. When there was trouble I’d vanish into the crowd and never look back. How did I end up responsible for all these people? Was the bolt from heaven random, or did the Forgotten pick me for a reason?”
“I have no answers.” It was hard to know the will of something they couldn’t even begin to understand.
“Because if it was just chance that it hit me, then I’m not special. It could’ve picked any unlucky fool. I should do what I’ve always done. Run and hide. You know, the two of us could just walk away right now. Forget the gods, forget the Law. Leave the casteless to their fate. Let the fanatics have their rebellion. We could disappear and let everyone assume we’re dead. It would be so easy.”
The idea sounded appealing. He had thought of it himself a few times. Yet he doubted the gods had chosen her randomly, any more than mighty Angruvadal had chosen a little casteless blood scrubber to be its bearer on a whim.
“If the Forgotten picked me for a reason, then he wanted a child of house Vane. Vane, who once conquered the entire west, who are still the fiercest warriors in all of Lok. Not only that, he wanted the firstborn of Andaman Vane, leader, hero, rebel, who always did what he thought was right, no matter the cost.” There was steel growing in her voice now. A decision had been made. “If the Forgotten chose such a woman to be his Voice it can only be because he desires a war like nothing the world has seen before.”
“Have you started to believe your own prophecies then?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just tired of running. But if the prophecies are true, that means the Forgotten also delivered to me the most dangerous man alive to be my sword. If I’m truly the voice of the gods, then I declare I’ve had enough. I want to see you treat these murderers like you used to treat lawbreakers. I want them to feel as powerless as the casteless have. I want the Black Heart to strike fear into the real criminals.”
Ashok looked again at the bodies, and he too saw them as people. “So be it.”
Thera turned to him and gave a command that would change everything.
“Ashok, go to war.”