The Castes and the OutCastes: The Complete Trilogy

by Davis Ashura

  “Great,” Bree replied sourly. “Let’s get inside before he sees us. He’s always drunk and looking for trouble.”

  As the only remaining child of Hal ‘El Wrestiva, the powerful ruling ‘El of his House, Suge had always been spoiled and overly indulged. The leniency shown toward Suge had allowed him to skirt the very edge of what Kumma society considered proper decorum. He had grown up into a coddled man-child, always protected from facing the consequences of his cruel actions – behavior certain to have earned severe censure for any other Kumma.

  Jaresh cursed. One of Suge’s sycophants, the idiot identical twins, Han or Wan Reold – Jaresh could never tell the two apart – had spotted them and was pointing them out to Suge. An ugly sneer appeared on the Wrestiva’s face as he moved toward them. Suge hated Jaresh with a loathing bordering on the pathological. In times past, it had only been Rukh’s swift sword that had stood between Jaresh and a beating from Suge.

  “Let me handle this,” Mira commanded.

  Jaresh’s jaw hardened. He wasn’t a Kumma by breeding, but a horse would stand on its legs and sing before he hid behind a woman. “No.”

  Bree looked at him, surprise and worry in her eyes. “Be careful,” she warned. “He’s a wastrel, but he’s still a Kumma.”

  “I’m not looking for a fight, but I won’t run from one either,” Jaresh said, infusing his words with more confidence than he felt. “Let’s head on inside. We only stop if we have to.”

  They had taken but three steps when Suge’s challenging words reached them. His voice was like the rest of him: thuggish and guttural. “What’s this? A dog escorting two women.” He brayed as his hangers-on joined in the laughter.

  Jaresh froze in place before slowly turning around. There was no way to ignore such an insult. It had to be answered. His jaw clenched with resentment. Why couldn’t the dung eater have let them be? Jaresh had only wanted to enjoy a play. There was no rational reason for this confrontation, but reason wasn’t a factor when it came to Suge Wrestiva. The man was a bully. He enjoyed throwing his weight around, spoiled and protected as he was by his wealth and position. The man represented the worst of what it meant to be a Kumma. He was a stain on the entire Caste. Jaresh’s anger got the best of him, and he spoke without thinking. “Speaking of animals,” he said to Bree, “look who’s here. A talking jackass.”

  Bree’s hiss of dismay was distant in Jaresh’s hearing. There was only the now. He wouldn’t let this prick – this pig of a man – ever bully him again.

  Suge’s face reddened as he scowled in ugly anger. “Careful what you say, Sentya. Your brother isn’t around this time.”

  “He was never needed,” Jaresh said, stepping forward and getting straight in Suge’s mug. “You need your friends to handle me coward?” he asked, glancing pointedly at the twins who were glowering in warning.

  “Step away from him, Jaresh,” Bree urged, tugging on his arm.

  Suge smiled, humorless and full of malice. “You should listen to her, little bitch. Hide behind her skirts. That’s all you Sentyas are good for anyway. Not a real man in the whole Caste.” He snorted in derision. “You Shektans are weak.”

  “Maybe so,” Jaresh said. “But I was called for Trial. I leave in six months. First one in my Caste ever to do so. That is what it means to be a Shektan. We breed champions and heroes.”

  “You? A champion?” Suge laughed in contempt. “You’re no more a champion than my dog’s ass.”

  Jaresh smiled thinly. “No, I’m not a champion, but soon enough, I won’t be a Virgin. When I return from Trial, where will you be?” Jaresh asked. “Still here with these two cretins? Doing nothing, achieving nothing, and being nothing as you hide behind your nanna’s name.”

  Suge lunged forward, swinging and missing.

  Jaresh easily dodged the blow, surprised by how slow Suge moved. Rukh was a blur in comparison. Even Keemo and Farn were far faster.

  By now a crowd had gathered. Included was Rector Bryce. What was he doing here? Jaresh grimaced in annoyance when Bryce blocked Suge’s next blow. He didn’t want or require anyone’s protection. Not anymore. He had to stand on his own two feet.

  “What’s going on here?” the lieutenant demanded as he glanced at the two men. Bryce was a member of both the Ashokan Guard and the City Watch, and the look on his face said he expected a swift answer.

  Suge wrenched free his arm. “None of your business, warrior,” he growled.

  Jaresh was disappointed by Bryce’s interference. He knew it was foolish, but for a moment there, he thought he could have taken the thug. “Suge was just demonstrating his many deficiencies,” Jaresh said.

  Suge smirked. “Deficiencies you say? Maybe so, but I’ll always be a Kumma, and you’ll always be a Sentya. Never forget it. You’ll always know I’m a man and you aren’t.”

  “You would count yourself as a man?” Bree challenged, coming to stand next to Jaresh. “You, who have never dared the Trials?” She froze Suge with a look of scorn and loathing. “You are no man Suge Wrestiva. You are a weakling and a coward.”

  Suge stiffened, outraged. “Frag you, whore. You think you’re so prim, proper, and perfect. We’ve all heard how you sell out your pretty pony, giving it up for any Kumma with a coin or smile.”

  Jaresh was incoherent with rage, fists balled. No one spoke to Bree like that – or any woman for that matter. “Apologize now, you fragging bastard,” he demanded from between clenched teeth.

  Suge drew himself up proudly, chest thrust out. His stance was ruined by his sneer. “Or what, Sentya bitch? I’ve nothing to apologize for. I’m just telling the truth. Hell, I even heard how she gives you a free ride now and then, spreading her legs for your tiny prick.” He thrust his pelvis rhythmically.

  Shocked intakes of breath met Suge’s words. Everyone had heard them. The world stopped as all conversation ceased.

  Jaresh wanted to kill. What Suge had said…it was an unforgivable insult, one demanding violent retribution. Nothing less would do. Rector Bryce must have felt the same way. His face was a blank mask of hatred as he stepped forward, looking ready to attack.

  Jaresh grabbed the lieutenant’s arm, pulling him back. “A brother has first right to satisfaction.”

  Bryce paused, unwilling to pull back before finally nodding in grim acceptance and stepping aside.

  Even the twins, Han and Wan Reold, despite the haze of their stupidity, must have recognized the severity of the moment. They nervously edged away from Suge, as if wanting to separate themselves from the stink and contamination of his crude insults. This wasn’t something Hal’El Wrestiva could paper over with coin or coercion. House Shektan would demand blood. Suge’s blood. Not necessarily his death, but certainly a painful beating with his abject apology and humiliation. Whatever the Shektans deemed just. And House Wrestiva would have no standing to deny them.

  Bree broke the tableau. She stepped forward and slapped Suge, raking his face. Trails of blood slowly oozed from the cuts left by her fingernails.

  “Satisfaction. Now,” Jaresh demanded. “No weapons.”

  “As you wish,” Suge replied boldly. His brave words were betrayed when he nervously licked his lips. The thug must have finally understood the enormity of his mistake. Suge worked to mask it, but Jaresh could see the dread lurking behind his eyes, but it wasn’t Jaresh he feared. Stupid as he was, by now even Suge realized that retribution was certain to come from House Shektan and would land on his fool head like a load of bricks. It was a promise made manifest by the imposing figure of Lieutenant Rector Bryce standing at Jaresh’s shoulder.

  The crowd moved back, leaving a twenty foot opening around them.

  “After him, me,” Bryce promised.

  “Get in line,” Suge said. “I’ll smear you across the pavement, old man.”

  Jaresh doubted anyone watching was fooled by Suge’s false bravado. Bryce certainly wasn’t. He answered Suge, mocking the Wrestiva’s lack of experience in any kind of real fight. Their words was
hed over Jaresh. He had stopped listening. He was about to be on the receiving end of a painful whipping. Possibly even the fatal kind. He tried to control his fear. His hands shook, and he wanted nothing more than to throw-up. He could just step aside, let Bryce fight in his place, but Jaresh knew the task was his and his alone. He had to be the first one to face Suge.

  Damn it! Why couldn’t Rukh be here? As the eldest, it would have been his responsibility to stomp Suge’s mudhole dry.

  Jaresh took a deep, calming breath. Complaining about it wouldn’t help him any. His duty was clear. Alright then. Time for some pain. “Let’s do it,” Jaresh said to Suge, glad his voice didn’t crack as he spoke brave words he didn’t feel. Without warning, Jaresh kicked. His hips twisted, and he whipped his foot around. It smacked with a dull thud against the meat of Suge’s thigh.

  Suge winced and stepped back, taking up a fighter’s pose. “Only shot you’ll get on me, bitch.”

  Jaresh didn’t bother answering. He drew on his Well, and his thoughts grew sharp and clear. His focus was like a crystal lens, drawing in the weltered and rainbow coruscated confusion of his thoughts until only a single, fierce white light remained. This was the Talent of the Sentya: to understand the truth in a way that burned away all illusions. A multitude of evaluations was completed in less time than a heartbeat. The kick shouldn’t have gotten through, and yet it had. Even distracted as he was, any Kumma should have been able to block and counter before Jaresh had even regained his balance. Something was wrong with Suge. The advantages were still with the thug but perhaps they weren’t insurmountable. Will to win counted for much.

  Jaresh’s thoughts were tested a moment later as Suge landed a stiff jab followed by a straight right. The last rocked Jaresh, causing his knees to buckle. He stumbled back on jelly legs, needing distance and time to regain his bearings.

  Suge feinted a jab and shot forward as Jaresh ducked the punch, still clearing the cobwebs. Suge was on him, attempting to take him to the ground and pound his head into the bricks. Jaresh managed to get his arms under Suge’s. His legs stiffened as he worked to keep to his feet. He couldn’t afford to have Suge on top. Jaresh barely managed to hold off the bilge-breathing jackhole, and with a frustrated growl, Suge disengaged.

  Jaresh saw an opening. The Wrestiva didn’t do a good job covering up. Jaresh jumped forward, knee leading. He felt satisfaction as he connected with Suge’s forehead. Suge took a halting step back as he shook his head and glared. Jaresh wanted to smile as another opening appeared. He needed to thank his sister. No doubt, she’d done it on purpose. Hers had always been a cold anger, allowing her full control of her actions no matter how furious she might be. Her rake of Suge’s face had ripped a line of cuts, two of which were slowly dripping blood into Suge’s right eye, blinding him.

  And Jaresh was a lefty. The thick-headed thug would never see the punches coming from that side. Jaresh swung a left hook, connecting solidly with Suge’s cheek. A kick – same side – smashed into Suge’s forehead. The coward stumbled back, legs buckling.

  With a rush of exhilaration, Jaresh rushed forward. He couldn’t believe it. He was about to whip a Kumma’s ass! A flying leap and a straight punch, connected with Suge’s nose, crunching it in a spray of blood. The Wrestiva crumpled, falling to the ground.

  He was down but not out. Jaresh stepped forward. A vindictive thought led to action. One final kick to Suge’s chest. Cracked ribs. Asshole wouldn’t breathe easy for weeks. Suge groaned and passed out.

  The world returned. Jaresh found himself hugged by Bree. Mira smiled widely and congratulated him.

  Rector slapped his shoulder. “Incredible! I never suspected you had such skill.” He saluted. “The honor of our House is avenged.”

  Bree laughed. “I would love to see Hal’El’s face when word of this humiliation reaches him.” She hugged Jaresh again.

  The twins knelt next to a supine and unconscious Suge. One of them put a head to the Wrestiva’s chest and fingers to his nose. “He’s dead,” he said, speaking into a sudden quiet. He glared at Jaresh. “You killed him.”

  All the glory left Jaresh in a rush. Emptiness and horror replaced it. How could Suge be dead? Impossible.

  He pushed Han or Wan, whoever it was, out of the way, hoping and praying the man was wrong. Suge wasn’t breathing. No pulse.

  An elderly Shiyen stepped out of the crowd. He shoved Bryce aside. “Move, you lump. I’m a physician.” He moved to the side opposite Jaresh and knelt, feeling for Suge’s pulse. He shook his head and ripped open Suge’s shirt. “You know resuscitation?” he asked Jaresh.

  “I…I took a class a few years back,” Jaresh mumbled. He wasn’t thinking clearly. He wasn’t thinking at all. He reached for his Well and clarity came. “I remember what needs to be done.”

  “Good. Stay close,” the Shiyen ordered. “I might need you soon.” The Shiyen’s eyes went blank, and a glow quickly built up around his hands. “Heart quivering. All four chambers. Fibrillation. Suwraith’s spit.” He placed his hands on Suge’s chest, one directly under the right clavicle and the other one below and to the side of the left nipple. “Stay back,” he said loudly. The glow bled out of his hands and flowed like streaming lightning straight into Suge’s chest.

  Suge’s torso jerked. He still wasn’t breathing, and still no pulse. The Shiyen’s eyes remained blank. Once more, the glow built in his hands. “Stay back.” Again came the streaming lightning but Suge remained unmoving. The Shiyen shook his head and shifted position. He began chest compressions. At thirty, he tilted Suge’s head back, pushing the chin up, and gave the Kumma two breaths. As he re-started chest compressions, he glanced at Jaresh. “I’ll need you to take over soon,” he said.

  Jaresh nodded, still too shocked to sort out what had happened. How could Suge have died? Jaresh hadn’t hurt him that badly. And what did this mean for the relations between House Wrestiva and House Shektan. The two families, one of ancient lineage and the other relatively new, were already fierce rivals, with ruling ‘Els who despised one another. And now, the heir of House Wrestiva was dead by the hands of not just any member of House Shektan, but the Sentya son of its ‘El. The repercussions from what had happened here could go on for years, possibly even leading to a blood feud.

  The Shiyen gestured and Jaresh knelt opposite him. He picked up where the physician had left off, applying chest compressions and calling out the numbers. Time distorted, twisting and changing. They could have been at it for hours or only seconds, trying to resuscitate Suge.

  In truth, it was a few short minutes.

  The Shiyen leaned back and waved Jaresh to stop. “It’s over,” he said, his voice tired. “His spirit is with Devesh.” He rose to his feet with a series of creaks from various joints. “Young fool. Too much fire in his loins and stupidity in his damn fool eyes,” he muttered.

  Jaresh sat back on his haunches, stunned by the sudden finality of it. He studied Suge’s slack features, still and unmoving as they were. Death had granted the Wrestiva’s brutish features a tranquility and grace they had never possessed in life. Suge’s empty gaze stared heavenward, and Jaresh dimly noted a faint blue tinge to the whites of the man’s otherwise wide-open eyes.

  By then members of the City Watch had arrived. Fortunately, none of them were of House Wrestiva. Their Captain took one look at Suge and removed his cloak, draping it over the fallen Kumma. He sent a runner to House Wrestiva, and the rest of his unit took statements from the crowd, most of whom still lingered and spoke in hushed tones. A sense of unreality settled over those who had seen the fight. How could a Sentya have defeated, much less killed a Kumma? It was the question on everyone’s mind.

  The Captain turned to face him. “Dorn Esap,” he said by way of introduction. “You’re Dar’El’s boy, right?” At Jaresh’s nod, the Captain looked over the rest of them. “Someone want to tell me why Hal’El Wrestiva is about to bring Suwraith’s own sorrow down on all of you?”

  Jaresh answered. “He insulted my
sister,” he began. He explained the argument and escalating series of insults that had eventually led to the words Suge had spoken about Bree. “I demanded his apology.” He shrugged. “He chose to fight.” Jaresh paused, uncertain now. How had he defeated a Kumma? It should never have happened. In the heat of battle and the aftermath, the unlikeliness of such an outcome hadn’t had time to sink in. Now it did. “Somehow, I won…” A pause. “And he died.”

  The Captain scratched his head, confused. He turned to Rector. “Lieutenant, we’ve known each other awhile. You saying this scrap of a Sentya took down a Kumma?”

  Han or Wan, whoever, leapt to the fore. “There must have been some trickery. The Sentya coward must have poisoned Suge. How else could one of the craven Caste defeat one of our own?”

  The Captain looked to the twins. “The whys and what-fors are for others to figure out. Not my job. Did the argument take place the way the Sentya described? Did your kinsman speak the words to the Shektan girl?”

  Han and Wan shared a mulish look before turning back to the Captain, nodding reluctantly.

  “Good. That’s settled. The fight was legal. Now, Lieutenant Bryce, what did you see?”

  Rector shrugged. “Don’t ask me how, but what Jaresh described…it’s exactly how the fight occurred. For whatever reason, Suge never drew from his Well. He moved no faster than any non-Kumma. He fought very stupidly. I’ve seen children do better. But even without the advantage of speed, he should still have had the skill to win.”

  Jaresh glowered. Suge hadn’t been that bad.

  Bree caught his scowl and shook her head. “Not now,” she mouthed.

  Jaresh nodded acknowledgment, nevertheless, annoyed by Rector’s assessment.

  The Captain stepped away and met with the other members of the Watch. After a few seconds of conversation, he gestured and set them to dispersing the crowd. He turned back to Jaresh and his group. “The rest of the crowd pretty much confirms what you lot told me. You four…” his gaze included Rector “…should get going before the Wrestivas show up. The last thing I want is for a bunch of hotheads to have a battle in the middle of the city. Go home. I have your names, and if anyone needs arresting, I can do it in the morning.”