“No,” Vedoran said. “You’re awake, and that’s a very good sign. You’ve been in a fevered sleep for a day. Most who have worked with the nightmare don’t last that long.”
“Olra’s old master,” Ashok said. “He lost his soul.”
“You don’t appear to be in danger of that,” Vedoran observed. “But your mind is another concern.”
“Why did you stay?” Ashok said, looking up. “I could have killed you.”
Amusement flickered across Vedoran’s face. “Not likely,” he replied.
“I didn’t realize …” Ashok said, raising himself up and sitting on the edge of his bed. “He’s stronger than I thought, the nightmare.”
“After this it will get easier, I think,” Vedoran said. “You’ve come through the worst and know what to expect. If you still intend to train the beast.”
“Yes,” Ashok said. He looked at his hands, the blood still crusting the edges of his nails. “Skagi?” he said.
“More embarrassed than hurt,” Vedoran assured him. “He was angrier at you for knocking him down in front of all the recruits. You took him completely by surprise. I’m sure he’ll want to pay you back in kind, someday.”
Ashok nodded. “I deserve that and more,” he said.
Vedoran stood up and straightened his armor. His black hair had come loose from its horsetail, making him look even larger as he stood over Ashok.
“What did you see in your dreams?” he asked. When Ashok hesitated, he added, “If you don’t wish to speak of it-”
“They weren’t dreams,” Ashok said. He saw his father, the hounds, Lakesh’s corpse. “They’re memories.”
Vedoran nodded. “Of the time before you came to Ikemmu.”
“Yes.” Lost in thought, Ashok wasn’t sure how much time passed, but when he looked up, Vedoran was still standing there, watching him. His eyes were impossible to read.
“What is it?” Vedoran said.
“Why do you not worship Tempus?” Ashok asked.
Briefly surprised, Vedoran recovered and sat cross-legged on the floor next to Ashok’s bed. His scabbard scraped the stone. He unbuckled his sword belt and set the weapon on the floor next to him.
“I feel,” Vedoran said, hesitating, “like I don’t want to be controlled. My father served Netheril, and then he escaped it, for the reasons many shadar-kai did-because he didn’t want to be a servant to a controlling empire ruled by a dark goddess. Ikemmu is not Netheril, but if he were alive, my father would see it in the shadows of these towers. Should we have come so far, only to have our choices limited now? To have our future decided by clerics who whisper an invisible god’s words in Uwan’s ear?”
Ashok saw the burning was back in Vedoran’s gaze. With his fists clenched in his lap, the sellsword radiated such anger, a controlled fury that threatened to consume him from the inside out. Ashok didn’t know how he could stand it.
“But this city,” Ashok said. “It’s different from any place I’ve ever known. I’ve seen places that were numb to the gods’ influence. Maybe the shadar-kai weren’t meant to walk unguided. Maybe we need some hand to keep us from wasting ourselves.”
“Are you thinking of taking the oath? Of embracing Tempus?” Vedoran said. His voice was neutral, but Ashok read his stunned expression. Ashok was hardly less affected himself.
What would it mean if he swore loyalty to Tempus? Would Uwan and the others truly accept him as one of their own? The implications of what he considered roiled inside Ashok. His father and brothers, they would all be dead to him, as he was to them. His old life and everything he had been would be washed away. Then could he finally escape those caves, the memories of blood and fire?
Vedoran waited, tense beside him. Ashok chose his words carefully, sensing that for Vedoran, more rested on his answer than idle conversation.
“I think,” he said, “that I need to learn more about this god, so I know what I’m swearing my life for.”
“All that you need to know of Tempus rests in Uwan,” Vedoran said bitterly. “You see how the recruits look at him, the worship in their eyes. Now you’re becoming one of them.”
“I’ve decided nothing,” Ashok said.
Vedoran nodded, but Ashok saw the anger and-worse-disappointment in his eyes. “I shouldn’t be surprised,” Vedoran said. “Whatever memories you battled in your sleep, Ikemmu must seem a paradise by comparison. But beware, Ashok, of putting your faith in this city and in Uwan. You may come to regret it.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Vedoran left him to regain his strength, and when Ashok awoke again, he didn’t remember dreaming. Nor did he know the day; he heard no bells tolling, and the room was empty.
Ashok sat up. There were fresh clothes lying at the foot of his bed. He checked his armor to make certain the parchment sheets hadn’t been found. As he was donning the bone scales, there came a tentative knock at his door.
“Come in,” he said, his voice still rough from sleep.
A dark one entered the room with a trencher of bread and meat and a cup of water. He handed Ashok the food.
Ashok thanked the creature and bit into a chunk of bread. The bland crust tasted amazing. He couldn’t remember when he’d eaten last. He scooped up the pink meat and juices with his crust and ate it all while the dark one waited.
The little humanoid shifted from foot to foot, his right hand clutching the knuckles of his left. He was a bit shorter than Darnae, but he walked in a stooped manner, his shoulders, arms, and knees curling inward toward his stomach. His eyes were dark and watery in a pudgy face.
When Ashok had finished the food, the dark one said in a low voice, “Lord Uwan instructs me to give you a message.”
“What is it?” Ashok asked.
“I’m to say that if you’re feeling up to the task, you should come to Lord Uwan’s chamber. For a private meeting.”
The food settled heavily in Ashok’s stomach. “I’ll come now,” he replied. “Do you know what it’s about?”
The dark one’s expression turned sly. “I wasn’t to say,” he said.
“But you do know,” said Ashok.
The creature’s eyes gleamed wickedly. “Perhaps,” he replied.
Ashok thought of pressing the point, then decided against it. He already knew what the meeting was about-of course he did. He was being summoned to answer for his actions in the training yard. Better he hear it from Uwan himself instead of the creature.
The dark one led Ashok out, and they climbed the winding steps. The walk seemed to take forever. When at last they stood before Uwan’s door, the dark one left Ashok. He knocked on the door and immediately heard Uwan’s voice beckoning him inside.
Ashok saw the painting first, the beautiful cityscape above the long rectangular table. He was surprised to see most of the chairs at the table filled, and even more shocked to see the occupants.
Uwan sat at the head, of course, but Vedoran, Chanoch, Cree, and Skagi all occupied places down the table. At Uwan’s right hand sat Natan. There was an empty chair next to the cleric that Vedoran, seated on the other side of him, pulled out and indicated for Ashok.
“The time has come for you to decide your future, Ashok,” Uwan said. “Sit down. We have much to discuss.”
Uwan leaned forward and clasped his hands together on the table top. In the middle of the table, spread out, was a map of the Shadowfell plain. Ashok recognized the Aloran Tor and several other landmarks. By their locations, he could tell his own enclave was about a six day journey to the north.
“I’ve summoned you here,” Uwan said, glancing at Ashok and his companions, “because you’ve all proven yourselves to be exceptional warriors. I’ve watched you train, seen your strengths, your weaknesses and your faith.
“I have a journey that should you undertake it will require all of your efforts working in concert. I am not ordering you to complete this task. Every shadar-kai in this room who volunteers for this mission will do so of his own free will.” Uwan glanced meaningfully at Ashok. “Will you consider the mission I propose?”