White Sand

by Sanderson, Brandon

  There was no legal means of disinheritance in Lossand. No matter what Reegent had said, if Eric wanted to claim the Lord Generalship, he could do so. The Law said he had one day to make his claim, otherwise he would lose the opportunity.

  Eric and Kenton stared at one another. Eric’s eyes seemed to plead with his friend. Please, they asked, please don’t ask me.

  Kenton stood uncertainly, the weight of his responsibility constricting his chest. Could he do such a thing? Could he destroy a man who had been his friend, even if his Profession depended on it? Eric’s psyche was unstable—Kenton could see Eric’s body quivering. The events of the last few days—the return to the sword, and now the sudden death of his father—were almost more than Eric could bear. And now, Kenton found he had to lay another incredible burden on his friend.

  I’m sorry, Eric, he realized. But I have to ask. Too much depends on this vote to pass this opportunity. He wished to the sands he didn’t have to do it.

  “Eric,” he whispered hoarsely, “will you become Lord General so you can vote for the Diem tomorrow?”

  Eric shut his eyes in pain, exhaling sharply, as if he had been punched in the stomach. “Yes,” he whispered back. When he opened his eyes, they were cold. He turned stiffly, and walked away.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Khriss watched, feeling chilled as Eric left. She hadn’t understood their words, but she had felt the tension between them. For a brief moment she thought for certain that Eric would break down into tears. Instead, he had returned to his statuesque emotionless of the days before. Only this time, it had been worse. There had been a vengeful glint in his eyes. What had Kenton said to him?

  “Kenton,” she whispered. “What is going on?”

  Kenton shook his head. “I’ve just done a very, very bad thing.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve destroyed a man who was once my friend,” he whispered. His eyes looked stunned, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just done. He looked down at her, shaking his head slightly. “Why didn’t anyone ever warn me the price I would have to pay for being Lord Mastrell?”

  Khriss didn’t know how to respond. So, she simply too his hand in hers, trying to offer what comfort she could without repeating her disgraceful behavior of before.

  Ais climbed up the steps behind them, accompanied by Baon and the dayside general. The trackt said something, and Kenton nodded, replying curtly.

  “Kenton,” Khriss asked. “What did you say?”

  “Ais needs to go back to the Hall to report this,” he said. “I told him to go.”

  “No,” Khriss corrected. “I mean to Eric.”

  Kenton shook his head. “I asked him to be Lord General. Come on, let’s go back to the Diem. I need to think.”

  #

  Kenton pounded the side of the small boat in frustration. They crossed the calm lake-waters, heading toward the Diem, but Kenton’s emotions were not so peaceful. He kept wondering what else he could have done. Was there a way he could have saved Eric? Perhaps he could have waited to see who the kelzi chose as a replacement, then tried to make a deal with him. Maybe he could have convinced the Lady Judge that Reegent had supported the Diem, and so his desires should have been a valid vote in Kenton’s favor.

  Unfortunately, Kenton realized how contrived—or even silly—most of his other options sounded. In the end, he knew he had made the right decision. The right decision for the Diem, at least. What else could he do? His feelings, and even those of his friends, were secondary when it came to protecting those under his charge. He hadn’t asked Eric to do anything inherently wrong or immoral; many would argue that he had done Eric a favor.

  But, Kenton doubted that was the case. He had watched Eric over these last few weeks, and had come to realize the missasumptions of his childhood. He hadn’t ever really known Eric—he had know the fake Eric, the Eric that Reegent had created. Eric’s true personality had been hidden. And, Kenton realized, he liked the real Eric better. He was a bit more contrary and a lot more irresponsible, but perhaps responsibility wasn’t for everyone. Eric had a kind of unhinged optimism that had been helpful in its own way.

  Kenton had killed that Eric. He had seen the coldness in the this Eric’s eyes—the despair. It had been the hopeless despair of a man resigned to his course. Kenton feared that he might never see the real Eric again.

  This had better be worth it, he thought bitterly. I didn’t ask to be Lord Mastrell, but I have done my best.

  The boat pulled into a shoreside dock, and they began to climb out. As they did so, Baon caught Kenton’s eye. The warrior looked … unsettled.

  “Is something bothering you, Baon?” Kenton asked with a frown.

  “The murder,” Baon said. “No one thought to ask why this Lord General was killed.”

  Kenton shrugged. “That is for the trackts to determine,” he said. “I doubt it has anything to do with us.”

  “Can you be certain?” Baon asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It was very convenient for your enemies that one of your strongest supporters was murdered the day before the vote,” Baon explained.

  Kenton paused. “The Kershtians wouldn’t do that,” he guessed. “Their vendetta is with me. I don’t think it would be morally acceptable for them to randomly start killing my supporters.”

  “Are you certain they think that way?” Baon asked pointedly. “Because, honestly sand master, if I were your enemy, those Taisha would be the first people I went after. Kill enough of them, and they’ll learn not to support the Diem.”

  “I’m certain Ais has considered that possibility, Baon,” Kenton said.

  “How certain?” Baon replied. “Even the best men make oversights, sand master.”

  Kenton frowned. There wasn’t a good possibility of it—even the A’Kar’s assassins would be hesitant to start murdering Taishin. At least, any that weren’t sand masters. But, there was a possibility. Delious, Rite, and the others could be in danger.

  “You head back to the Diem,” he said to the others, waving for the boatman not to leave. “I’ll go and see what Ais thinks.”

  #

  Ais opened the door to his chambers with a sigh. The Lady Judge had immediately assigned a team to investigate Reegent’s death—and, just as immediately, she had told Ais that the matter was no longer his concern. He was to head back to the Lord Mastrell as soon as he filled out a report detailing everything he had seen that had led him to find the Lord General’s body.

  He sat down at the desk, rifling through several stacks of dark paper to find the right form. He had barely started, however, when a frantic knock came at his door.

  “Yes?” he asked with a frown, standing.

  Tain pushed open the door. “Ais!” he exclaimed. “I can’t believe you’re back.”

  “What is it, Tain?” he asked.

  “It’s Sharezan, sir!” the man exclaimed. “We found him!”

  “What?” Ais exclaimed with surprise.

  “You weren’t here, sir,” Tain explained, “so I organized the raid myself. We’re about ready to move—several teams are already in position. When we heard you were back, we decided to wait and see if you wanted to join the raid. I know you have a personal interest in this one, sir.”

  Ais looked down at the stacks of paper, then dropped the form and stood. “Let’s go,” he said, feeling eagerness rise in his chest.

  Tain and he rushed from the Hall, Ais in a stupor of excitement. After all this time! “You did well, Tain. I have always been impressed with your thoroughness. How did you do it?”

  “It was Lokmlen,” Tain explained. “The man you caught two weeks ago. He finally broke and told us where Shaerezan’s safehouse is. We’ve got him cornered. We kept the entire operation secret, even from the rest of the Hall. We didn’t want Sharezan to hear.”

  Ais allowed himself a slight smile. The Lady Judge must have known about the operation, but she hadn’t said anything. She didn’t want him goi
ng on the raid. But, because she hadn’t mentioned it, she also hadn’t ordered him not to go. The Lord Mastrell could do without him for a short time.

  Tain handed Ais a zinkall, which he strapped on as they made their way into the merchant district of Kezare. Here, there were large buildings used for storage. Tain led him toward one of them. “The squad is in here,” he said, motioning furtively toward an open door.

  Ais followed him through the door and into a large, darkened room. A few insufficient windows shed light down toward the floor, creating spots of illumination on the empty ground. Ais stepped forward hesitantly, searching for signs of occupation. He didn’t seen any trackts. However, at that moment, he heard something. He looked up with surprise, seeing a form moving in the shadows on a second floor catwalk.

  “Tain, we’ve been betrayed!” Ais hissed turning toward the door.

  The exit shut suddenly. “Yes,” Tain’s voice sad, “you have.”

  Ais turned slowly. Tain stood in a spot of light a short distance away. Several armed men were walking out of the shadows to join him. Ais recognized one of their faces—Lokmlen.

  “You sold yourself to them,” he hissed at Tain.

  “No, actually,” Tain said conversationally, his arms clasped behind his back. Then Ais noticed something—the other men in the room, they were standing around Tain deferentially. Almost as if … he were in charge.

  “You?” Ais asked incredulously.

  Tain smiled, nodding his head slightly. “What better cover for a criminal, Ais, then as a trackt? The identity has served me well over the years.”

  Ais sat stupefied. All of his plans and operations—Sharezan had been privy to them the entire time. The very man he had been searching for all these years had been a member of his personal band. Of course, it made sense, in a way. He had always thought that Sharezan moved too quickly in response to Ais’s attacks.

  “Aisha!” Ais cursed.

  “Indeed,” Tain agreed.

  “You knew about everything,” Ais said.

  “I did,” Tain said. “Of course, sometimes you moved too quickly even for me to do anything. You really do have an … energetic mind, Ais.”

  “And I always thought you would turn out to be Nilto,” Ais mumbled.

  “Nilto?” Tain asked with surprise. “That is the one you suspected? Amazing—I should have seen it. We all knew that you had your suspicions, but no one could pry them out of you. I tried for years—it would have been very convenient to know. I would have gladly have framed Nilto for you, had I known that he was the one you suspected.”

  “And the threats on my family …” Ais said, still dumbfounded. Tain had sent them all. In fact, Ais remembered with a curse, Tain had been at the Diem both days notes had been delivered through Kenton. He should have seen, he should have suspected … .

  “I have to say, Ais,” Tain said, walking slowly, his hands still clasped behind his back, “even knowing everything you are going to do, it has been difficult to stay ahead of you. No matter what I did, you slowly chipped away at my empire. And now, I barely have anything left.”

  “You are a monster,” Ais mumbled. Tain had a gleam in his eye—a dangerous, insane gleam. Ais had seen the same look in his own eyes. “What you did to the Lord General … .”

  “You liked that?” Tain asked, looking up with a smile. “It was one of my better projects. Reegent has always had a horrible fear of darkness; he was even worse than the rest of us. Once you know a man’s weakness, well, the rest of the project just sort of builds itself, doesn’t it?”

  Tain continued to walk. He paused a few feet in front of Ais. “You’ve nearly destroyed me, Ais,” he confessed. “You’ve done so well, in fact, that I’ve decided to accept my losses and take a little time off. Only a few years, of course.” Suddenly his eyes turned hard. “I would rather not have to deal with you when I return.”

  Ais set his jaw, staring Tain proudly in the eyes. Whatever Tain did, Ais knew he had won. He had driven the criminal overlord of Kezare to bury himself like a frightened tonk. “Kill me then,” he said.

  Tain smiled. “Oh, no, Ais. I’ve been planning your project for some time now. I was half-afraid I would never get to use it. I considered killing you a dozen different times, but I always knew that was the wrong choice. It was far better to have one trackt chasing me, even a superior one like yourself, than to enrage the entire Hall. You, at least, I could watch.” Tain paused. “Now, however, I have to leave anyway. My cover is ruined. The only blessing in this is that I can finally do to you as I have always dreamed.”

  Ais began to get nervous. Oh, Ker’Naisha, please just let him kill me.

  “Every man has at least one line of instability, Ais,” Tain said, continuing to pace. “It has long been a study of mine to look at these flaws. They are what makes us unique, but at the same time they are our greatest weaknesses. Like the cleavage point of a fine gem, even the slightest pressure to one of these faults is enough to make us shatter.” Tain turned chilling, intense eyes on Ais. “I have become quite good at making men shatter, Ais.

  “With you, it is easy. We all know about your instability—the entire Hall knows. Ais, the man who keeps his emotions wound so tightly, when they come out, they explode. Most of them pity you, in one way or another.”

  Ais ground his teeth, careful to keep himself in control. This man would not get the better of him. He wouldn’t give Sharezan the satisfaction.

  “What most of them don’t know, Ais, is what it is that makes you so unstable.”

  Ais froze. Tain was smiling broadly now.

  “It’s the conflict, Ais,” Tain explained. “Are you a trackt, or are you a Kershtian? Are you a believer, or a sinner?” Tain paused. “Are you a cold-hearted warrior, or a loving father.”

  Ais hissed. “No,” he whispered.

  “I’ve been taking good care of them, Ais, don’t worry,” Tain defended. “But, unfortunately things have to change. You see, Ais, I know exactly where your point of instability is. I’m going to have to tap it ever so gently.”

  “No!” Ais screamed.

  Tain smiled. Ais shot him.

  The zinkall, however, only let loose a hiss of pressure. The arrow didn’t fire.

  “Never accept a weapon from someone you don’t trust, Ais,” Tain warned. “Oh, wait. You did trust me. Never mind, then.” The former trackt turned to Lokmlen, and the man nodded, walking into the darkness. Ais heard a door open and shut off to the side.

  “Now, as for our project,” Tain said. “Lokmlen has affably agreed to take part in our little experiment. He has set up a firetrap at a local building—an orphanage, I believe. They always make the best targets—everyone gets so emotional, yet none of them are really upset to see the poor children go. You were raised in an orphanage, weren’t you Ais?”

  Ais didn’t respond. he was feeling his rage begin to build, feeling his control begin to slip. No … this isn’t happening . . . .

  “Anyway,” Tain continued. “Lokmlen is going to set the firetrap off himself. Dozens will die—perhaps hundreds, if the fire gets out of control. You may follow him, if you wish. I’ll even tell you where he’s going. It is the same orphanage you were raised in—the one on the east side of the market. You can also try and find another trackt, or someone else to try and stop him. But, you know, I doubt you’ll be able to let yourself do that. You always have been so avid about maintaining control; you never let anyone else do anything.”

  Ais ground his teeth. He could feel his body shaking.

  “Now,” Tain said, looking Ais straight in the eye. “I am going to go kill your daughter. You may follow me and try to stop me if you wish. That is your decision, Ais—duty or family. Do you save the hundreds you don’t know, or the one that you love? I would choose quickly, if I were you. You may leave in one minute.”

  Tain turned, and walked toward the back of the room. Ais screamed and threw himself toward the man, but strong hands held him back.

  “No fa
ir cheating, Ais,” Tain warned. “You have one minute to contemplate your decision.”

  And he left.

  Ais struggled against those gripping him, but he couldn’t see them. His vision was growing dark and red, and there was a powerful rushing sound in his ears. The rage of emotions came upon him all at once. He laughed hysterically and sobbed in pain at the same time.

  Unfortunately, he retained just enough of his consciousness to remember the choice before him. He battled against it, for once welcoming the loss of control. Maybe if the emotions took him, he wouldn’t have to choose. He wouldn’t have to make such a terrible, terrible choice.

  The hands released him, but he stood frozen in paradox. He slumped to the ground, wailing in torment. But still, he couldn’t avoid it. Duty loomed before him. His daughter or hundreds of others? If he wasted time, all of them would die. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t plan.

  And so, with a cry of dismay, Ais crawled to his feet and stumbled toward the door. The door Lokmlen had taken.

  Outside, he was confronted by the light. The sun shone down on him with dissatisfaction. Ais could feel the Sand Lord’s vengeful heat pushing down on him, crushing him beneath its power. Still, he struggled on.

  The area was relatively unpopulated, and passers-by shied away from Ais, frightened by the wild uncontrol they saw in his face. He pushed his way through them, heading east. He had to find another trackt. Somewhere, there was someone who would help him. Then he could turn back and go after Tain.

  Sand Lord take them! Ais cursed to himself, feeling the tears streaming down his cheeks. Where are all the trackts! They should be patrolling. They should be … .

  He stumbled through an alley and onto a street running to Portside. Here, he caused quite a stir. The crowds began to stare, fear and curiosity in their eyes. Ais pushed through them, his hands like ragged claws. Where were the trackts?

  “Step aside!”

  The voice was like a blurred mumble in Ais’s ears, but he turned toward it, some part of his increasingly feral mind recognizing the authority he heard therein. A trackt, tall and Lossandin with a frown on his face, shoved his way to the front of the crowd. He saw Ais, and his face grew amazed.