by Matt Russell
"That's horse shit!" Glavius said, slamming his second emptied mug down. "The Norn's never called your kind lower creatures.” He gave a dramatic shrug. “Who did? I asked the archivist that question a year ago. You know what he told me? Near as he can tell, the term originates from a nine-hundred-year-old treaty with the elves, and it refers to your people and a couple of others being lower than them, not us." Glavius seemed as though he was about to say more when his eyes suddenly shifted up past Kota's shoulder and widened with sudden, deathly serious shock. "What the hell?" he exclaimed.
Kota whipped his head around and saw a very, very large Onkai standing in the doorway glaring directly at him—only the man was not an Onkai. His armor was different—more sharply angled with spikes sticking out from the shoulder plates—and he had the inverted spear-tip down the center of his forehead that Kota had seen in drawings in several tomes from the archive. The man was a Nemesai! At his presence, all conversation in the tavern ceased. Kota heard hearts begin to pound all around him, and he smelled the stink of fear.
"Shamalak," the huge man shouted in deep, almost guttural voice, his bearded face seeming to stretch unnaturally with the word, "you are under arrest!" The words struck Kota like a knife in the stomach.
"What?!" Glavius shouted. Kota heard the quick, sharp scrape of a chair behind him that told him his friend had leaped to his feet. "What the hell is this?"
The Nemesai's dark eyes shifted past Kota, and he snarled: "Do not even think of interfering, Onkai. We are taking this creature by order of Bishop Cromlic."
"Like hell!" Glavius shot back. He drew his sword from his scabbard.
The muscles on the sides of the Nemesai's jaw pulsed with fury. "I very strongly suggest you put that sword away, boy!"
"Don't call me boy, you gangling oaf!" Glavius snapped. "I've killed demons! When does an inquisitor face anything that can actually fight back," his voice took on a dangerously mocking edge as he added: “Other than Cassian Asango?”
Veins stood up around the Nemesai man’s eyes as he shouted: "Come in!" Behind him, perhaps fifteen men who also bore the markings of his order dashed in through the doorway. They filed into two groups at their apparent leader’s sides, and each one of them raised a crossbow and aimed it at Kota and Glavius. The tall man cast a vicious smirk and said: "Put your sword away right now and apologize for your disrespect, Onkai, and I may forgive your impudence."
Kota turned to Glavius, his heart beating faster and faster. To his surprise, Glavius gave a laugh: "You forget where you are, you dumb bastard? Maybe you noticed the enormous Gods-damned temple up the road that has Hundreds of my brothers just inside. You kill an Onkai and every one of you will be a corpse on the ground inside of half an hour!"
The Nemesai leader began to tremble with anger. "By holy law, you have no right to interfere with—"
"Interfere with what?" Glavius snapped. "Kota’s a shamalak! Your order exists to punish human sinners."
"That is not for you to decide. We are taking him."
"Then you're going to have to kill me," Glavius said, his eyes narrowing.
"No!" Kota said, he held up his hand to Glavius, looking into his friend's eyes. He had not realized Glavius was so loyal to him. "I'll go with them."
"The hell with that!" Glavius snapped. His left hand whipped out and gripped Kota's wrist and yanked him around the chairs while, at the same time, Glavius's right foot kicked the table up onto its side with the top facing the enemy. Kota heard a slew of arrows strike the tabletop as he was pulled behind it. Glavius cried out: "I'll kill the first ten of you that try coming back here if any of you wants to find out how a real soldier fights!"
Kota heard the sound of crossbows being nervously reloaded, but no immediate flurry of footsteps toward them as he might have expected. Glavius let out a fierce laugh and pulled a curved white horn from his belt that he blew as hard as he could. An enormous burst of rumbling sound blared through the tavern.
"Hey, jackass!" Glavius shouted, a vicious smile on his face, "I just summoned my brothers. How about I give you the chance to put your sword away and apologize?" He started to peek up over the tabletop, but Kota grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him down.
"They reloaded their crossbows," Kota whispered.
Glavius shrugged and blew his horn again, and Kota had to cover his ears to mute the terrible sound. "Relax, little brother," Glavius said, though he was trembling just a little even as he smiled.
The tavern was incredibly quiet for a moment. Most of the townspeople inside, Kota noted, had taken refuge behind tables as Glavius had. The poor souls were utterly terrified. The Nemesai seemed to be locked in hesitation. If they were communicating at all with each other, it was with looks or hand signals. Kota would have heard the slightest whisper. After a moment of this strange, tense silence, he caught the sound of many boots pattering over the street outside at the speed with which Onkai moved.
"In here!" Glavius shouted. "In the tavern!"
The footfalls grew louder and louder and then suddenly Kota heard Darius's voice boom: "What’s going on here?"
The Nemesai leader's voice answered with a deep growl: "You are Acting Bishop Darius? One of your men interfered with a legal arrest."
"Arrest of whom?"
"A shamalak all of you refer to as Kota!" The man spat the name with disgust.
"What?" Darius said in a sharp voice. There was a pause, and then Darius said aloud: "Kota, are you in here?"
Glavius and Kota rose together, and he saw Darius standing with a small army at his back at the tavern entrance.
"Sir,” Glavius shouted, “these men fired arrows at me."
Darius glared at the Nemesai leader. He was more than a head shorter than the giant of a man, but he seemed the fiercer of the two. "What the HELL do you think you're doing, Inquisitor?"
"I…am acting on the orders of my bishop," the Nemesai answered. His voice was still sharp, but it was more subdued than it had been. He pointed to Kota and said: "This shamalak is under arrest for heretical practices."
"He isn't human. You cannot arrest him."
"I can, actually. There is precedent for this, and if you interfere with me in any way whatsoever on the matter, you will be breaking theocratic law proclaimed by the Norn herself, Arkioth Novolo."
‘No trespass,’ Kota translated the Dhavic words without even thinking about them. He had read a great deal about the law of non-trespass. Each God or Goddess had a specific domain, and the orders of the church were empowered to act within that domain. By decree of the Norn centuries ago, no order could interfere with the religious acts of another. Kota stared at Darius as this realization washed over him. Under theocratic law, his friend could do nothing to protect him.
Darius glared at the man for a moment. As he did, Glavius shouted: "Sir, these Imbeciles fired on me!"
Darius hesitated, his gloved hand tightening around the hilt of the sword at his belt. "They were…technically within their rights, Glavius," he said, the words coming out in a tone of bitter hatred.
"Yes," the Nemesai leader said, his face relaxing into a smile. "Order your man to stand aside, acting bishop. That shamalak is under arrest."
Darius clenched his jaw in suppressed fury, and said through his teeth: "Glavius, stand down."
"Sir!" Glavius shouted, kicking the table in front of him. "We can't let them do this." Darius said nothing, and after a few nervous breaths Glavius shouted: "Sir, please!"
"Come over here, Glavius," Darius said in a voice that trembled with frustration.
Glavius let out an unintelligible grunt and marched over next to Darius. When he was there, he said in a low, desperate voice: "You're not really going to let them take Kota, are you?"
Darius gave no answer but stared up at the Nemesai leader and said: "That shamalak has been more or less adopted by a Sansrit Master. I should advise you that she will take issue with this—unless you are here to attempt to arrest her
as well."
"We are aware of your Lady Gretis, and we are looking into her as well, but we are not moving to arrest her at this time."
Glavius gave a sharp laugh. "You're all dead men! Your nearest temple is what, four days from here? You'll never get that far with Kota once Gretis hears what you've done. I doubt any of you will last 'till sundown, you stupid—"
Darius silenced Glavius with a hand across his chest. Looking the Nemesai in the eyes, he said: "I cannot guarantee your safety if you take that boy." His eyes narrowed as he added: "And I am not obliged to provide you with any protection if you do."
"Hmm," the Nemesai grunted, the smile never leaving his face. Kota had the sense the man had been expecting this. "You are obliged to protect me if I claim sanctuary in your temple, and I do. My instructions are to conduct the shamalak's interrogation within the refuge of your walls."
Glavius hissed, and Darius stepped forward, glaring into the taller man's eyes with such intensity that the inquisitor edged back. "You think I'm going to let you torture someone within the Onkai Temple?"
"I do," the Nemesai said, staring coldly back. "You will protect me as I torture him and, if I find it prudent, as I kill him."
Glavius lunged at the Nemesai leader, who leaped away just as one of the Onkai soldiers caught the back of Glavius's collar. Two more took hold of his arms, and one grabbed him by the waist. Struggling against all of them with surprising force, he snarled: "I'll cut your head off!" He made several more desperate thrashes, his face red with rage.
"You will reprimand that man!" the Nemesai leader said in a furious voice.
"Glavius, you are fined half a dessek," Darius said in a terse voice. This drew smirks from several of the Onkai and a scowl from the Nemesai leader. Darrius narrowed his eyes at the towering man and said: "I imagine you and your men were hiding somewhere nearby, waiting for Kota to step away from Lady Gretis. Perhaps you have a spy or two in our town." Darius gave a sharp look around, and Kota gazed about himself. Most of the people in the tavern were still tentatively standing behind their hiding places.
"This is a plan to get at Gretis, sir," Glavius said, still in the grip of his brothers. "They were afraid to go after her directly, so they're laying a trap."
"No, they aren't trying to get at her," Darius said, still staring into the Nemesai leader's eyes, "but she's part of the plan—her relationship to Kota and her influence on Otho. This is all a fairly naked play to strong-arm our bishop into changing his vote regarding the arrest of Cassian Asango."
The Nemesai leader blinked and then gave a gruff laugh. "My order would never resort to such coercion. However, out of respect, I will not begin the boy's interrogation until Bishop Otho has returned and I have spoken with him."
"How gracious," Darius said through gritted teeth. He turned to Kota, hesitating for a brief moment, and then saying: "I'm sorry, Kota, but you will need to go with these men for now."
“Good that you see reason,” the Nemesai said.
Darius turned back to the tall man and said: "You think you can bully the whole world, don't you? It isn't going to work."
"Thank you for your opinion, acting bishop," the Nemesai said with a chuckle. He moved across the room to Kota and reached inside a large clinking pouch on his belt where he fished out a pair of shackles. "Hold out your wrists, Kota.”
Kota stared up into the man's dark, cruel eyes and slowly lifted his arms.
Chapter 8:
Dimitris
If only I could have stopped the war between my brothers, history might have taken a different course. Cassian and Dimitris were alike in so many ways, both immensely strong, both focused, and both utterly implacable in the pursuit of the throne. They could have been the greatest of friends, but instead they were opposing forces whose collision was always destined to be terrible.
---Telemachus Vale,
Starborn of the nineteenth generation
Cassian gazed ahead at the vast expanse of tents and campfires in the grass-covered valley as his tired horse trotted into the war camp. The sun was just beginning to set, and he could smell meat roasting and stew boiling all around him. He made a rapid estimate based on the number of cots to a tent and the number of tents from front to back and left to right that roughly eleven thousand soldiers and staff were present. It was a sizable force for policing a border, but not sufficient to invade another nation or defend Denigoth from anything more significant than marauders. Still, the ocean of armed men dressed in fresh uniforms and outfitted with the latest in steel weaponry, shields, and armor, conveyed a degree of prestige and importance that he did not overlook.
Neither Cassian nor his tutor knew the reason he had been summoned over two hundred miles northeast save that the emperor had ordered it. The two of them had made the trip without an entourage, both preferring the simplicity of riding horses and living off the land and the supplies that could be bought every so often along the way. Titus, Cassian's ever-present reptilian companion, had shadowed them, staying hidden during the day while they forged ahead and then flew silently to their camp in the night. This was for the best. Travelling openly with a dragon would cause all kinds of attention, and for Cassian, the trip had been a chance to spend a few more days with his tutor and friend. He had the sense that, whatever the purpose of this strange summons, it would ultimately lead to him parting with the old man.
"Hell of a welcoming party," said Somar, gazing around the camp from atop his stallion.
As their mounts brought them nearer, Cassian's head began to throb. It was unnerving to be in such close proximity to so many minds at once. Errant thoughts and images began to flow into him, and he forced himself to shut them out. "This is no simple show,” he said. “These men are assembled for a reason."
"Of course they are," muttered Somar with that wonderful knowing chuckle that Cassian knew he would miss. The old man had asked that they refrain from discussing anything about the reason for the summons until now, perhaps in preparation for one final test. "Tell me, boy, why are we here?"
Cassian felt the other minds fade away and was grateful to Somar for engaging him in deduction. "We are less than ten miles from Goderland, which we have of course heard rumors is being attacked by bandits."
"How brilliant you are to make that connection," said Somar with a nod that was playfully condescending. "Now, without telepathy, tell me what you see when you look at these men."
Cassian gazed at the soldiers, trying to perceive them all as his tutor would see them. His eyes swept around the enormous camp, stopping here and there on what seemed significant. "That soldier there is practicing his thrusts," said Cassian, gazing at a young man only a few dozen yards from them. "He is young. He looks both focused and quite nervous."
"And what does that tell you?" said Somar.
"He is likely mentally rehearsing for a battle he expects to wage in the near future," Cassian said.
"And what does that suggest about this army?"
"They are here on a mission—probably to engage the enemy marauders."
"What does the number of men here suggest about these 'marauders?'"
Cassian chuckled, enjoying Somar's deductive game. He wondered if his mind would continue to work this way once the two of them were parted. "In all likelihood, they are a small army rather than a disorganized band of outlaws. There is little of value in this section of the empire—just farms and livestock—which suggests they are stealing food and taking slaves.”
"Reasonable enough,” Somar muttered. “And why might you be here?"
"I am to participate in the battle. This is probably a test. The Emperor wishes to see if I have the stomach for battle, or perhaps I am to be apprenticed to the general."
"You are twenty now."
"Yes, the age our own the emperor first took to the battlefield. I may be put in charge of a small force to gauge my capacity for command."
"This would not surprise me."
The
two of them shifted their gaze to a young man in brilliantly polished armor walking briskly in their direction. As he came closer, Cassian noted the neatly trimmed beard, the oiled, tied back hair, and the effortlessly staunch pose that all suggested this person was of noble birth. Almost without thinking about it, Cassian reached into the young man’s mind. Immediately, he sensed a wall much like Somar's, yet not nearly so strong. With a little effort, he could take things from the noble soldier’s mind—possibly even without him noticing. Cassian noted this for later possible use.
"My name is Corporal Tabien Maloric," the soldier said, his voice half friendly, half stern. "May I know your names, gentlemen?"
"This is Cassian Asango," said Somar.
The corporal nodded, looking pleased. "We were not expecting you for at least another day."
"I go where my emperor directs me, and I do not tarry," said Cassian.
The corporal nodded. "Excellent answer!"
Cassian ignored the silly compliment and said: "Where is General Romulus?" The name had leaped into his mind a split second before he uttered it. It was a name and title rolling around the thoughts of soldiers all over the camp—their commanding officer. Cassian had heard of Romulus, and not always in positive tones. The man was said to be a brutal, ruthless commander.
With a smile, the corporal said: "He is in his tent speaking to the other Starborn."
"The other—" Cassian started to say, but then he froze. His senses leaped out at the speed of thought, and an impression came back like lightning, rippling through every corner of his mind. He felt the person upon whom he had spent the last six years of his life focusing, measuring, and playing a never-ending battle of mental war.
"This is not a simple matter of having me fight in the army," said Cassian, his voice reflecting the unexpected mortal seriousness of the moment. "Dimitris is here."
"What?" said Somar. He gazed around, looking tense and confused.
Cassian felt his rival's mind focus suddenly on his. "He has just realized I am here." Something almost like fear passed through Cassian for an instant. Dimitris was and had long been the most significant threat to him and was perhaps the one human other than the Emperor that might be able to kill him in single combat. He mastered these feelings immediately. If this was to be a competition, he would be the victor. Cassian believed this in the pit of his heart.
