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Chapter 34

Omand watched out his carriage window as a judge’s mansion was consumed by fire. The flames cast a flickering red light across the Capitol. There was a fearsome beauty to it. Such calamitous events were rare in this glorious city.

“It appears the fire crews are here to fight the blaze,” Taraba said. “They cannot approach until our men let them through.”

The two of them were the only passengers inside the luxurious carriage. “Eh…Let it burn for a while longer.”

An Inquisitor ran to the side of the carriage to deliver his report. “Judge Bhaguri Vadal resisted arrest and was killed. A candelabra was knocked over and started the blaze, then he barricaded himself in his quarters and refused to come out. Apologies, Grand Inquisitor, he gave us no choice.”

The golden mask of the Grand Inquisitor turned down toward his underling. “Unfortunate, but understandable. Vadal folk are obstinate and hard headed. Sadly, he was Harta Vadal’s cousin and would have made a valuable hostage. And his family?”

“His wife and daughters were captured unharmed, sir. As well as a phontho obligated to serve as their senior military advisor.”

Omand just shook his head. What was the world coming to that a warrior would let himself be captured while a judge would fight to the death? “Take them all to the Tower of Silence.”

“To the roof?” the Inquisitor asked hesitantly.

“To the dungeon. We will see how much Harta cares about the rest of his relatives. And if he does not? Then they go atop the dome…You are dismissed.”

That Inquisitor ran back toward the burning mansion, as another approached holding a messenger packet. Omand extended his hand through the carriage window and took the envelope.

“Taraba, have the driver take us to the next arrest.”

As his right hand gave the orders, Omand opened the letter that had just been presented to him. Remarkably, the wood that had been imported all the way from Vadal to decorate the façade of Bhaguri’s mansion burned so brightly that for a moment Omand didn’t even require a candle to read.

The message room at the Tower of Silence had been very busy tonight. Not surprising, since he had just ordered the arrests of individuals across every great house and every caste. The sweep was intended as a systematic removal of the most troublesome elements.

There were, of course, a great many messages that had arrived via demon, documenting the relentless slaughter of the casteless, documenting that they were now extinct in many parts of continent. Omand skipped over those. His spy among the Akershan reported that the rebellion’s hideout had been discovered and was under siege…Oh well. Omand had managed to conceal that location for far longer than he had expected. It appeared their usefulness was at an end.

And most importantly, Witch Hunter Javed had left them a dire warning of impending sabotage. The audacity of these particular rebels was remarkable!

The carriage began to roll, and Omand pondered how to proceed.

Devedas had departed for the north to contain the demon attack in Vadal, and as an emergency measure he had taken most of the warriors obligated to the protect the Capitol with him. After all, who could wait for reinforcements while mysterious beams of fire were shooting from the sky? Once that mighty force had gone, and many important men had been deprived of most of their bodyguards, Omand had turned his attention to purging the Capitol of any who might still stand in his way.

Normally, clumsy accusations of insurrection would be insufficient to arrest this many men of status, but that was the benefit of a crisis. In their fervor the judges had given Devedas a shocking amount of authority, and then he had delegated the safety of the Capitol to Omand while he was away. The handful who protested Omand’s stern actions were quickly jailed, using the very powers that they had voted to give away.

The end of the Age of Law was upon them, and most didn’t even realize it yet. Omand was having a splendid time.

“Interesting news from the southern desert, Taraba.”

“Oh?” His assistant had sat back down across from him as the carriage swayed. “What is it?”

“Javed says the so-called prophet and her Sons of the Black Sword are on their way to destroy the aqueduct. They intend to drown the desert to make us suffer.”

“A bold attack.” The young man sounded impressed. “How old is this news?”

“According to Javed, they left the Thao mountains three days ago and are avoiding the trade roads to keep from being spotted.”

“Then we still have plenty of time to mobilize the warriors in Akara. Or the alternative…” Taraba must have realized the Grand Inquisitor wouldn’t have brought up the topic if he’d already made up his mind what to do about it. “You could continue to let these rebels be instruments of terror, as they were when Black-Hearted Ashok was still among the living.”

Omand smiled behind his golden mask, because he had been very proud of that particular plan. The specter of Ashok and his vengeful black steel blade had unnerved the Capitol far more than he’d ever hoped for. When he had first set that broken creature loose upon the world, Omand had never realized just how far Ashok would go. Without a villain, their story never would have had a hero to turn into a king. Without Ashok’s unwitting assistance, Omand might not have ever achieved his goals.

“I could let them continue to run wild…However”—Omand gestured out the window to where fiery shadows were still flickering off the vast stone edifices of the Capitol—“why should I allow them to harm a city I now own? If there is terror to be inflicted here, I should be the one to do it. Also, there is word from Akershan that their warriors have finally found the rebels’ crater in the mountains. The Sons of the Black Sword will have no home or families to return to even if they were successful in harming our aqueduct. Let us spare them such sorrow.”

“If I may be so bold as to make a suggestion…”

Omand was curious, mostly because he expected Taraba to be his successor someday, and he would like to make sure the Inquisition was left in clever hands. “Please do.”

“Let them destroy the aqueduct first, then kill the troublesome rebels.”

“And why would I do such a thing?”

“Our actions tonight—removing those who will be troublesome—will be seen as unnecessarily harsh by many. They will bristle against your strong hand. However, no one would ever believe mere rebel criminals are clever enough to destroy one of the Capitol’s greatest works on the own, so surely they must have had collaborators within the first caste guiding them. Which makes this purge necessary and provides us a fine excuse to remove even more critics in the future. None will dare question you in public for fear of being seen as weak on traitors, or perhaps even traitorous themselves.”

Omand mulled it over. “That is brilliant, Taraba. Keep it up and you will inherit my golden mask someday. Let the aqueduct fall, and its replacement can be the first great work our new king commissions once he is crowned.”

“Of course, Grand Inquisitor,” Taraba said. “Would you like for me to alert the garrisons along the aqueduct? We have enough time we could draw troops from Makao and Devakula. Both of those great houses are obligated to defend it.”

“Yes. Alert both. There will be great honor to whichever house destroys such infamous rebels. Have whoever is our witch hunter in Akara oversee the operation. Take no prisoners except for their prophet. Javed confirms that she does have some unique form of magic, which may be useful to us.”

Only then Omand recalled what he had learned about the fall of the House of Assassins. It had been Sikasso’s attempt at capturing that odd prophetic power for himself that had resulted in his death, and Sikasso had been an extremely capable man. “Well, tell him to try and take her alive, but if that proves to be too much of a challenge, bring her corpse back to the Tower of Silence for dissection and study.”

A short time later the carriage arrived at the scene of another planned arrest, and Omand was positively delighted to watch an Uttaran arbiter be dragged from her home, pronounced a practitioner of witchcraft without trial or evidence, and executed in the street.


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