“Thank you for coming, Ashok,” Uwan said. The light in his eyes, the enthusiasm he’d expressed a tenday before was absent from his demeanor today. His face was subdued, his tone business-like as he came around the long table to face Ashok and Vedoran.
“Vedoran has made his report,” Uwan said, “and he’s brought a disturbing accusation to my attention. This concerns your escape from the shadar-kai enclave. Do you know what I’m referring to?”
Ashok glanced at Vedoran, but the warrior’s expression revealed nothing. He felt panic clawing the pit of his stomach. Did they know? Had Vedoran seen through Ashok’s pretense in the caves and realized he’d known them as his own home?
If so, he was lost. Ashok bowed his head, and was preparing to confess, when Uwan spoke again.
“In your report, you failed to mention Chanoch’s actions in the tunnels,” Uwan said. “Vedoran claims that he defied orders, and in doing so endangered Ilvani and the rest of the group. Is this true?”
Ashok felt a dizzying mixture of profound relief and trepidation. His shameful secret was safe, but Vedoran had not forgotten Chanoch’s insult.
He chose his words carefully. “It’s true that there was a confrontation,” he said. “Chanoch went back to retrieve an item that was obviously important to Ilvani. I do not believe he acted out of malice-”
Uwan held up a hand. “Did he or did he not disobey Vedoran’s orders?” he pressed.
Ashok felt the weight of the leader’s gaze. “There were many disagreements during the journey,” he said. “The storm, the bog, the illusions … All of it took a toll on us.”
“Answer yes or no,” Uwan said flatly. “If the next words from your lips are any other words, you’ll be disobeying my orders, and punishment will follow accordingly.”
He spoke calmly, but Ashok heard the threat underlying the words. It was a side to Uwan he’d never seen before-a coldness as forceful as his words in the training yard.
That was the ruler of Ikemmu speaking, Ashok thought. The Watching Blade who had executed countless warriors for disobeying orders and endangering shadar-kai lives.
Desperately, Ashok looked to Vedoran, but the shadar-kai’s face remained a neutral mask.
“Don’t do this,” he begged Vedoran.
“Damn you!” Uwan cried, slamming his fist down on the tabletop. He drew his greatsword and put the blade’s edge against Ashok’s throat. “Answer or die.”
“No,” Ashok said. “Chanoch didn’t disobey any order.”
Uwan’s face went livid. The blade quivered at Ashok’s throat. “Are you calling Vedoran a liar? If you are, the punishment will be the same for him, for bearing false witness against Chanoch. Consider your answer carefully, Ashok.”
Ashok clenched his fists. He was trapped and damned, and Uwan knew it. He half-expected the leader to slit his throat, but he held the strike. Of course Ashok knew why. The chosen of Tempus, he thought bitterly. The gods preserve my life once again.
“Vedoran does not lie,” Ashok said through gritted teeth. “Chanoch disobeyed orders. But I beg Lord Uwan’s mercy. We would never have made it out of the caves without Chanoch’s blade. He is a true warrior of Ikemmu and a devoted servant of Tempus.”
Uwan lowered his sword and stepped back. “True words,” he said. “Do you think I don’t realize Chanoch’s worth?”
“Then spare him,” Ashok said. “Forgive him.”
Uwan shook his head. “Chanoch knew his responsibility to himself and to his comrades, and he chose to ignore it. My responsibility is to uphold the laws of this city.”
“By killing one of its protectors?” Ashok shouted. “Is that Tempus’s word or Uwan’s?”
Uwan’s jaw tightened. Ashok thought he would raise his blade, but he did not. Deliberately, he sheathed the weapon. “Wait outside, Vedoran,” he said.
Vedoran nodded and left the room. He did not look at Ashok.
When he’d gone, Uwan went to the table. He pulled out one of the large chairs. “Will you sit?” he asked Ashok.
Ashok shook his head. Uwan sighed and sank down in the chair himself. He let his elbows rest on his thighs and his shoulders hunch. It was the first time he’d ever shown a hint of weariness, but Ashok saw it, in the posture and in the dullness of his black eyes.
“Cree told me what you saw in the enclave’s dungeons,” Uwan said. “How you found Ilvani. That can’t have been an easy sight.”
“It wasn’t,” Ashok said tightly. He tried not to conjure the faces of the dead shadar-kai, but they came anyway, and he was conscious of the empty dagger sheath at his belt. His blade had been so much a part of him that he hadn’t yet removed it.
“If I had seen that …” Uwan said. He cleared his throat. “A room like that would have driven me mad.”
“So I was,” Ashok said. And he’d reveled in the madness.
“That place where you found Ilvani-those were shadar-kai, but they were not our people,” Uwan said. “They’d lost themselves, driven mad by the lurking shadows.”
“Such a thing,” Ashok said slowly, “would never happen in Ikemmu.”
“Not while I live,” Uwan agreed fervently. “But you must understand … The line we walk … That thread is so delicate as to be terrifying, Ashok. We could become them so easily-without order, without discipline to govern our passions.”
Ashok rubbed his bare wrist. “We cut ourselves, and when it’s not enough we cut each other,” he said.
“Yes,” Uwan said. “Without laws to govern us, we would slay our rivals, then our allies. We would do unspeakable things, just to grab whatever bit of life we could. Our city, our community would destroy itself, just as the shadar-kai in the caves did.”
“They could have allowed themselves to fade,” Ashok said. “I would welcome my soul’s flight before I became master of that slaughter room.”
“Perhaps you would,” Uwan said. “You’re strong. But to give yourself up to nothingness-the shadar-kai are made to resist that fate with everything inside us. It’s not so easy to give up your existence.”
“No,” Ashok said, remembering the misery, the near hysteria in Reltnar when he’d realized Ashok intended to take Ilvani-his lifeline-away. “But Chanoch is different. He made a mistake.”
“He crossed that line,” Uwan said. “We can’t afford to forgive, Ashok. Our nature doesn’t allow it.”
“So that’s it, then,” Ashok said bitterly. “Tempus or the shadows? We’re damned?”
“No. We are shadar-kai,” Uwan said.
Vedoran was leaning against the wall when Ashok stepped outside Uwan’s chamber. They looked at each other across the small span. Ashok tried to control his rage, his desire to hurl himself across the space and take Vedoran by the throat.
“None of the others spoke against Chanoch,” Ashok said.
“I didn’t expect they would,” Vedoran replied. “Tempus’s flock spoke as one.”
“Uwan says you’re to be rewarded handsomely for your service to the city,” Ashok said. “Does it make you happy?”
“Do you know what the ‘reward’ for a sellsword’s service is worth?” Vedoran said.
Ashok shook his head. “I don’t care,” he said, starting for the stairs.
Vedoran’s voice carried after him. “Uwan instructed my master to fatten my purse for a month, to show his appreciation,” he said. “That’s what Vedoran’s honor is worth: a handful of coin.” His voice rose. “What else should a godless sellsword want in life but more coin to please him? He can never be Tempus’s emissary.”
“Cease!” Ashok cried. “That is nothing to me, and you know it. Will Chanoch’s death satisfy your honor?”
“Chanoch is nothing to me,” Vedoran said, mimicking Ashok with a sneer. “Do you think I give a thought as to how that dog sees me? No, this was for Uwan and his god. You and I are Blites, the other races are coin slaves, and Tempus’s followers sit above us all in judgment and contempt. Fine, then. Let them look down from their high places. But by the gods, let Uwan be bound by the same laws that damn me. Let him see how his own faith will be the downfall of his city.”