Chapter 18
Jagdish, Gotama, and their small cadre of bodyguards had ridden southwest in pursuit of the seventh and tenth paltans of Gotama’s Mukesh Garrison, and the Inquisitors who had obligated them.
Strangely enough, Rada followed them.
Karno had been very displeased by this. The two phonthos were going to confront Inquisitors. It made no sense for them to go someplace sure to be crawling with the very Order they’d been hiding from. Rada couldn’t even make a compelling logical argument for this tactic because following them hadn’t even been her idea. How could she explain to the Protector that she was hearing a voice inside her head that was incessantly demanding that they needed to accompany Jagdish or else terrible things would happen?
She couldn’t even dismiss it as some sort of hysteria or trauma related to her adventures, because that same whispering had saved her life during the raider attack, and she was almost certain it was coming from the terribly frightening black steel artifact she was carrying in the satchel slung about her body.
It would do no good to beg and plead with a man of absolute integrity such as Karno. It wasn’t like he could be swayed once he had decided what was right, and his orders were to keep Rada safe from harm. Going out of their way to find a witch hunter was the opposite of safe. And it wasn’t like Karno could be lied to either. It was almost as if Karno’s complete honesty rendered him immune to deception. Either that, or Rada was simply a terrible liar and no match for someone whose profession required him to constantly deal with dishonest criminals who were far better liars than a librarian could ever hope to be.
Thus Rada had no choice but tell him the truth, regardless of how deranged it made her sound.
“The Asura’s Mirror…talks to you?”
“I hesitate to call it talking, Karno. It’s more like it forms extremely strong impressions in the mind, which one would then approximately translate into language in order to convey the meaning.”
The giant Protector stared at her blankly.
“Basically, yes. The artifact is talking to me, and it is adamant that we must go with Jagdish or else.”
Karno had paused in the act of saddling one of the horses Jagdish had so generously given them. “Or else what?”
Rada had made her plea near the charred remains of the stables, where it was just the two of them, and there had been no one else close enough to listen to their private conversation. It was bad enough this household knew who they were now; she didn’t want them to think of her as crazy too.
“I’m not sure what or else. It’s just giving me a general sense of unease that bad things will occur if I’m not there.” It was far stronger than that, but Rada hesitated to describe it as profound dread, because that might make Karno even less inclined to let her go. “Please, believe me. I don’t know why my presence is required, but it will be.”
Jagdish and Gotama had already left earlier that morning, but recently enough that the two of them would be able to catch up. She had already hesitated to speak to Karno for too long as it was.
“Black steel told you that?”
“As I explained, not in so many words, no, but you know I’m not inclined toward exaggeration. This isn’t some mere flight of fancy. The artifact is giving us a warning. We’d be fools not to heed it.”
Karno simply grunted an acknowledgment and went back to cinching up the saddle, as infuriatingly untalkative as usual. She was really hoping that he wouldn’t tell her that her impressions were wrong, a result of getting bumped on the head, or worse, she was simply tormenting herself for her part in the terrible bloodshed that was about to engulf all the land and trying to find some way to salve her conscience.
“You’ve dealt with such black steel material before, Karno, at least by proximity. I’ve read every book in the Capitol Library on the subject. We both know how incredibly powerful intact ancient black steel devices can be. Who is to say what this thing can or cannot do, or what its ultimate purpose may be? Vikram might have known more than he told me, and oh what a fool I was to ever accept his obligation, but it’s too late for regrets now. I gave my word, so I think it might be like an ancestor blade, and now the mirror considers me its bearer. What kind of bearer would ignore their artifact’s council?”
“But do you trust it?”
“What?”
Karno looked up from the buckles to stare her square in the eye. “Do you trust it?”
It was a fair question, for the last time Karno had seen the mirror out in the open it had eaten a man’s arm. “Uh…Well…”
“Thought so. Saddle your animal.”
She sullenly did so as, first caste or not, Karno didn’t trust servants to do such important labors for him or his charge. As he had taught her, nobody else would care about the little things that were vital for her safety as much as she would. While she worked—on both the straps and her disappointment—Karno checked on the extra animals and supplies Jagdish had left them.
Her Protector had saved her life more times than she could count now, but this had to be done. Rada was determined that if he wouldn’t accompany her on this mission, then she would go by herself, and he would have no choice but to follow…Or more likely, he would simply stuff her in a sack and carry her to the Capitol on the back of a pack horse, as Karno was the sort who took his orders very seriously.
He returned to her side just as she was finishing her work. “I will tell you of an event I have never before spoken of with anyone, and I trust it will remain in your confidence.”
That made her curious as Karno was not one for stories. “Of course.”
“What you ask me is foolishness, potentially drawing the attention of Inquisitors…only I do know something about the whisperings of black steel. I was an acolyte of the Protector Order the same time as Ashok Vadal. His sword was kept from him while he trained. Angruvadal remained stored in our vault during those years.”
“Devedas told me about that. He said your acolytes must learn to only count on their own strength, and the strength of their brothers, and never be allowed an advantage like a magic sword.”
“Except Devedas was the greatest among us, not a clumsy child from distant Uttara, too large for his age, who had not yet learned how to not trip over his own big feet. So Devedas was never assigned the ignoble duty of night watch over a mostly empty vault, the only thing inside of which could defend itself from thieves far better than any mortal guard. Yet guard Angruvadal I did. Night after night, many of which I was tempted to try and draw that sword.”
Rada had read the horrible stories about what ancestor blades did to anyone they found unworthy when they tried to wield them. Not that anyone could understand what black steel was thinking, but if the sword didn’t approve of you it would cut you. If it really disapproved it would remove limbs.
“Angruvadal already had a bearer, Karno! Why would you risk such a thing?”
“I was a poor boy from a poor house striving against the sons of Thakoors, phonthos, and judges. I longed to prove myself to my brothers. There is no higher honor than to be chosen by an ancestor blade. I thought if I could simply draw that blade, there would be no more need to train anymore. It is hard to explain to an outsider how harsh the life of a Protector acolyte is. Cold. Exhausting. Unforgiving. I would guard that vault, so tired I could barely keep my eyes open, but knowing that if I were caught sleeping the beating I’d receive would be merciless. The shame worse. All while that sword was there, tempting me. Not with what it really was, but what it symbolized. Like all youth, I was unwise. Impatient.”
Blunt Karno was such the opposite of frivolity that Rada had a hard time imagining him as anything less than a rock of duty. Frankly, she had a hard time picturing the giant as a child at all.
“My pride ate at me, until one night, I decided to draw Angruvadal. If it killed or maimed me, so be it. I would be great or nothing…” Karno lifted one mighty hand, as if carefully placing his calloused fingers near an imaginary grip. He waited there like that, fingers slowly closing, trembling, as if he was reliving the memory…for so long that Rada became nervous, until Karno suddenly snatched his hand away.
“Then I didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Angruvadal warned me not to.” Karno turned back to his horse. “Mount up. We must hurry if you expect to catch up with Jagdish.”
She couldn’t believe it. Rada had succeeded in swaying Karno Uttara! Surely that was an achievement very few others could claim. And that was also probably the most words she’d ever gotten him to speak in a single day! Hurrying before he changed his mind, Rada had leapt upon her horse and then ridden from the estate as if her life depended on it.
Despite that relative triumph, part of her was disappointed she’d succeeded in convincing him, for her heart desired nothing more than to go home. She had never longed for the life of an adventurous vagabond. With Devedas back, she could return to the comforts of the Capitol. She missed him as greatly as only separated lovers could, but more, she pined for her old, simple life: the Library and her important work there. She missed her family, even her spoiled little sister.
Her journey had taken her from the squalor of a goat farm to the opulence of Great House Vadal, as prisoner and pawn, and now that she finally had a chance to go home, here she was, chasing after some warriors because a black steel artifact had told her to do that instead. An artifact that never should have been her responsibility to begin with! The Asura’s Mirror belonged to the Historians Order, not the Archivists. She was eager to give it back to them, and to never think about the frightening thing again. The few times she’d peered into it, she could have sworn something on the other side had been looking back. Now that something was communicating with her, which was even worse.
Despite pinning her disappointment on the mirror, there was one other reason Rada was hesitant to go home, though it was buried so deep that it was hard to articulate how or why she felt the way she did. The Capitol was where a grave injustice had begun. An injustice that her cowardice had helped perpetuate. She knew her part in the matter was near inconsequential. If she’d not been intimidated into writing a false report about the history of the casteless, then somebody else would have. If she’d been brave enough to speak up in the Chamber of Argument, the plotters simply would have had her killed.
Rada had done the best thing she could think of, by seeking out Devedas and telling him of the conspiracy. Only now she knew that had turned out to be insufficient as well, and all the casteless in the world were to be murdered. Logically Rada knew that wasn’t on her head, because if the fearsome Lord Protector Devedas couldn’t stop the judges from voting for such madness, what difference could one librarian make?
Only when her logic and guilt clashed, guilt triumphed.
Thinking about the contents of the Inquisitor’s letter had kept her up all through the night, and whenever she did manage to nod off to sleep, the damnable mirror would wake her up with feelings of unease. To return to the Capitol would be to return to the scene of her failure, and she was not ready for that yet.
So with the mirror prompting her that she needed to go and prevent some unknown harm, what choice was there? It probably wasn’t related to the great evil her cowardice had aided, but it was something, and doing it would have to be enough to ease her conscience. She was powerless to stop the Capitol from murdering millions of casteless, but she could do this. Whatever this happened to be remained to be seen, but it would have to do. Then she could get on with her life.
An hour later they had caught up with Jagdish’s band. Ten warriors had stopped their horses in the middle of the road to see who was pursuing them. Jagdish was clearly annoyed by their presence. Even the most gracious of hosts didn’t want to bring the fugitives he had been harboring to a potential confrontation with Inquisitors. Rada had no good argument for that and didn’t relish the idea of telling a bunch of Vadal warriors that she was carrying around a priceless ancient artifact that was bossing her around, but luckily Karno stepped in and simply declared that as a Protector of the Law, he wished to travel with them for a time.
Which settled the matter, as nobody argued with a Protector. Not even stubborn Jagdish.
Once Karno had declared it a matter of Law, Gotama asked, “So the big one actually is a Protector?”
“He is,” Jagdish admitted.
“Does that mean we shouldn’t pick a fight with the Inquisitors, then?”
“As long as any duels you provoke meet the legal requirements, Phontho, then your actions are of no concern to me or the Protector Order.”
“I’d advise against it, though,” Rada interjected. “Inquisitors really hold a grudge. I’m so sorry to trouble you again, Jagdish, but we need to tag along. I promise to stay out of sight when you meet with them.”
“Aye…meet with them.” Gotama snorted. “I’ll not repeat the kind words Phontho Jagdish was saying about the masks all morning, or his detailed imaginings of what he was going to do to the men who left his house open to the wolf.”
The assembled soldiers all grinned at that, and since Rada had heard Jagdish go off on a tirade before, she could only imagine it was because his threats had been so elaborate and colorful. If he’d been born a judge instead of a soldier, he would have made a fine orator.
Jagdish just scowled until his men stopped smiling. “I’m still angry, but I’m not a fool. Gotama wants his troops back, and I’ll settle for an apology and some proper groveling. I’m sure our illustrious Thakoor wouldn’t approve of us causing a stir, but we can’t fight a war with the Inquisition stealing whole paltans.” Then Jagdish looked toward the other phontho and his bodyguards, and nodded politely, as if excusing himself, before riding closer to Rada and Karno, as half these warriors clearly didn’t know about her particular circumstances. “Are you sure you want to be there? I thought you wanted to get back to your precious library. We’re going in the wrong direction for that.”
“Trust me, Jagdish, I’ll stay out of the way and pretend to be a servant or something. I’m practically a master of disguise.”
“She brought a scarf,” Karno stated flatly.
“Did she bring enough fabric we could convince them you’re a tent?”
Rada hadn’t thought of that. A man of Karno’s considerable stature certainly stood out in a crowd, and after his last encounter with Inquisitors had resulted in so many of them dying, he was surely feared in their circles now.
“We will remain out of sight while you speak to them. If there are any repercussions due to our presence, that will be between my Order and theirs. Vadal will bear no responsibility.”
“Good to hear, Protector. Onward, then.”
The group they were following had a considerable head start, and the Inquisitors must have been pushing them hard for so many to be traveling so fast. Fortunately their numbers made them easy to track. At first the paltans had stuck to the trade road, but then they had taken a less-used path through the rich Vadal farmland toward the northern Goda forest.
Vadal was truly a beautiful place, the most bounteous of all the great houses, with the nicest weather, and this was one of the rare times Rada got to actually ride and take in the sights rather than fretting because she was being pursued by someone. Though she was a lady of the first caste, Rada found that she enjoyed the company of these raucous warriors, which was remarkable, since Rada barely tolerated people at all. She’d been raised to think of warriors as dumb muscled brutes, but there was an honesty to their kind. Especially once they forgot she was of higher station, which was easy for them to do, since Rada lacked the haughty attitude common to most of her caste. Any first-caste arrogance she may have once possessed had been purged from her over the last year. It was hard to feel superior to others while running for your life or hiding.
Also they had all heard about how she had joined in the defense of the estate, which seemed to earn their respect. Her many visible scrapes and bruises were certainly a good reminder of her efforts.
Her mother had always warned her about the barbaric inclinations of young warriors. Perhaps they would have been ruder to a woman if given the opportunity, but if any of these had been so inclined to depravity, none would dare with Karno and Jagdish present. The threat of violent dismemberment ensured respectful behavior. The Capitol would probably be a nicer place if more high-caste youths had to worry about getting their hands cut off if they failed to keep them to themselves.
When night fell they built a fire and camped in a field of yellow wildflowers. As Rada lay beneath the stars, listening to the warriors jokingly insult one another, she wondered at how she’d ended up here, so far from her sheltered upbringing and her beloved books. Because the answer was her complicity in a terrible crime, she tried to force the guilt from her mind and ponder happier things instead. It made her feel flighty and girlish to think of handsome Devedas, but that was better than mulling over impending genocide.
The two phonthos sat by the fire, sharing a wineskin. They were keeping their voices low, but Rada could still hear them. She’d discovered that most warriors were a little deaf and unwittingly talked louder because of it. That was probably the result of all the constant yelling and getting bashed over the helmet.
“It’s easy to ignore a letter from a distant arbiter, but what will you do when Harta gives us the official order?” Gotama asked.
“Vadal will be too busy making war on Sarnobat by then to worry about rounding up our non-people,” Jagdish answered. “Warrior versus warrior. Sarnobat’s hard as nails. A proper fight, as it should be.”
“For now. Will the war last longer than the Capitol’s insistence, though?”
“That depends on how good we are and how dumb our enemies are.”
“May they be very dumb indeed.” Gotama took a drink, then passed the skin over. “I’ve been soldiering longer than you have, so trust me, Jagdish, those orders will come. The worst ideas outlast the best. Bad ideas are survivors. They’re going to make us go kill casteless.”
“I know, but I meant what I told you earlier. This is one order that I’ll never obey. Nor will any man under my command so long as I live and breathe. This extermination is wrong.”
“You’d risk your rank? Oceans! You’d risk your life! For stinking fish-eaters?”
“I’d not massacre innocents from any caste or none at all. I’m a warrior, not a butcher, Gotama. There’s no honor in that. Besides, I’ve known some casteless who were brave and smart and even noble as any whole man.”
Gotama looked around suspiciously, as if was about to say something subversive. “Do you speak of the Black Heart?”
“I wasn’t even thinking of him, honestly.” Jagdish took a long drink, as if he knew he’d need the wine to help him sleep. “I got to really know a few casteless rebels in my travels. Fanatics and heroes yearning for dangerous freedom, but most of them just wanted to be left alone. They love and laugh, and fight and hope, just like us.”
“I didn’t know Harta had promoted a poet. You’re an odd man, Jagdish Demon Killer.”
“Still want to try and marry your daughter off to me?”
“Maybe I should wait and see if you get disgraced and executed first.”
“A wise plan. See you in the morning, Phontho Gotama.”
As Rada fell asleep, she wondered how many more lives her cowardly silence would ruin beyond the poor casteless themselves.
* * *
The next morning they came across angry merchants who’d had their livestock feed confiscated by the Inquisitors. Warriors couldn’t just take whatever they wanted from the worker caste. They were required to pay for it. Even in times of crisis any property that was seized, the warriors would have to settle up afterward. However, the Inquisition was a Capitol Order, not bound by such conventions. Like the Protector Order, the Law said they could take whatever they required to complete their duties, and the workers had no choice but to comply. It was striking to Rada how much animosity this created toward the Capitol. It seemed a very ill-conceived policy.
Meanwhile, she noted that each time they needed supplies, Jagdish would debate with the worker over the price, and then pay slightly more bank notes than the agreed-upon amount. When she inquired about why he did that, he told her that workers were proud in their own way, so haggling was customary. The small bonus was a sign of respect, so they’d be eager to do business with his kind again in the future. She had found that a surprising insight from a warrior into the mind of a different caste, but Jagdish had just shrugged it off and said he knew how workers thought because he had been married to one.
The farmers they passed on the road had seen the big group of warriors pass by the day before. Jagdish noted though there were supposed to be many casteless who lived in this region, they’d not seen a single one all day. An overseer even complained to them and begged Jagdish to keep an eye out for his disobedient non-people who had not turned up to do their assigned farm labor. The casteless quarters of the small villages they passed appeared to be entirely deserted.
All the non-people had gone into hiding. The fact that they had somehow gotten word of their extermination before the warriors who were supposed to carry it out gave Rada some small measure of hope. But only for a little while, because then she reasoned, how long could they all hide?
Two of Jagdish’s bodyguards, Joshi and Mohan, had grown up in this province, so they’d been taking turns serving as lead rider. At one point in the afternoon Mohan quickly rode back to the rest of them, shouting that the paltans had changed direction. Rada barely knew the man, but from the look on his face he seemed very confused by this.
“What is it?” Jagdish asked as he signaled for the rest of them to halt and take a break.
“They turned off this road onto an odd path. I’ve never been down it myself, but I know of this one. It’s a dead end. From the tracks they’ve been riding with haste, but we should catch them later today.”
Jagdish was clearly pleased by this. “Good. This errand has distracted me from my duties long enough. What’s their destination?”
“That’s the part that baffles me, Phontho. Nobody lives out there. It’s a long, bad trail just to get to a valley of nothing. There’re no workers settled there as far as I know. It’s too isolated and the road too bad to make it worth cutting the timber. There might be hunting camps along the way, but that’s it.”
“Maybe this is where all the local casteless have gone, then,” Rada suggested. “If the Inquisition knew they were hiding there, that’s why they needed to take so many of your soldiers to kill them all.”
“Doubtful,” Gotama said. “Witch hunters wouldn’t travel so far across house borders for something so mundane as non-people. Their kind is reserved for serious affairs. Besides, how would they even know? From the complaining workers it sounds like their casteless fled over the last couple of days, long after these Inquisitors would have left Sarnobat. If they got special orders to come all the way out here, it’s got to be something bigger—like religious fanatics or illegal wizardry or a wandering demon.”
“A demon?” Rada asked nervously.
Karno chuckled at that, which was probably the first sound he’d made all day. “Inquisitors can’t handle demons. They’d send a Protector for that.”
“Fair. We’re too far from the ocean or the Martaban anyway.” Gotama thought it over. The old man seemed to enjoy puzzles. “My bet is illegal witches hiding in these woods! Probably stealing virgins to sacrifice to their false gods. But don’t fear, my lady, as we’ve all been told Jagdish knows a thing or two about massacring gangs of illegal wizards. Right, Jagdish?”
Except Jagdish was silently scanning the dark woods, suspicious. “Nayak Joshi. Come over here.”
That was the youngest of the bodyguards, and Rada thought of him as barely more than a boy, unable to even grow a beard yet. Except if Jagdish had picked him for bodyguard duty, Joshi must have had some measure of skill.
Joshi rode closer. “Yes, Phontho?”
“This area would have been under your father’s protection. Do you know of any rumors about the valley at the end of this trail?”
“Ah…” The boy hesitated a bit too long. “Nothing proper Law-abiding people would ever speak of, no, sir.”
Jagdish gave Joshi a wry look, then glanced at Gotama. “Phontho, I’m sure you’ve heard that when I was given this station, it was so sudden that there was no army for me to command, so I searched for warriors from across Vadal who had no other obligations, then I recruited the best of them.”
“That’s well known. We all expected your army to be a mess. Usually there’s a good reason a man doesn’t have an assignment.” Jagdish’s other men immediately bristled at that, but then Gotama quickly added, “But as it’s been made clear by your many successful raids with them, that isn’t the case with the ones you got.”
“I knew how to pick them because I’ve been them. A good soldier can get disgraced and shunned for events beyond his control. Men like us just need an opportunity to show our worth, which everyone here has done. Which means Nayak Joshi will be able to speak freely before you now, without any loss of face. Agreed?”
“Well now I’m curious, Jagdish.” Gotama’s saddle creaked as he leaned forward to listen. “Spit it out, Nayak.”
“In that case, sir, my father warned us to stay away from this trail. Workers used to cut timber here. Only they avoid it now because it’s said to be cursed. They say that part of the forest is haunted. Of course, the Law says there’s no such as ghosts, but you know workers. Right?”
“They found something, didn’t they?”
“Ruins. Very old, but not very impressive. The Inquisitors in Mukesh were notified, and they came and scoured the place for anything religious. Then the Historians carried off anything they found interesting back to the Capitol.”
“Historians do that,” Rada said. “Like obnoxious little rats scurrying. That Order is the worst.”
The warriors gave her a quizzical look, but of course they could never understand the bitter rivalry between Archivists and Historians. If there had been anything written here, the operation would have been obligated to the Library instead, rather than those illiterates from the Museum.
“And what did the illegal looters find?” Jagdish asked pointedly.
“Nothing of real value. All the treasure hunters complained about a bad feeling to the ruins, like they were always being watched, but they could never say by what. They poked around some but never found any black steel or forbidden trinkets worth selling, so they gave up.”
“How’s a junior nayak know how successful the local criminals were?” Gotama asked.
“My father was accused of taking bribes from magic smugglers to have his warriors look the other way.”
“Was he guilty?”
“Guilty as the ocean!” Joshi laughed. “Sorry. I’m still bitter about him ruining our name. There’s very few commanders who want a warrior serving in their paltans whose father was hung as a criminal.”
Gotama laughed. “I’m starting to see why your men work so hard for you, Jagdish.”
“Vadal has gone without a real war for so long that men of our rank have grown squeamish, worried more what the pampered ignorant first caste will say about how pretty our armies look, as opposed to how good they can fight.” Jagdish looked toward Rada. “No offense intended.”
“None taken!” Rada was the last member of her caste who would ever defend the vapid, shallow, useless nature of most of her peers. “I know them better than you do, and I don’t particularly care for most of them either.”
“Alright, then. Something in those ruins suddenly interests the Inquisition enough that they think it needs guarding more than our border. Let’s go abuse these fools of that silly notion.”
They rode into the shadowed forest. Rada carefully placed one hand onto her leather satchel but the mirror inside remained silent.