Still, I wasn’t exactly filled with confidence as I stared out at the masses of soldiers and Augmenters.
We lay there for a while, watching the troops come in and out, counting numbers and judging what sort of soldiers they had. Ganyir sometimes pointed out individual men, especially among the officers and Augmenters, and told me what I could expect from them. His knowledge of the details was impressive.
“This is your clan,” I said at last. “You clearly know them well. How did you lose control and end up in exile?”
Ganyir was silent for so long that I thought he was ignoring my question. But it seemed that he had been brooding, not ignoring me, as he finally started to tell his story.
“My brother and I were close once, as family is supposed to be. As children, we explored the mountains in each other’s company. As guild initiates, we practiced Augmenting together. As adults, we shared many fine evenings of eating and drinking. Targin was always a little self-indulgent, and it was good that I was the eldest and so, set to inherit. But it never occurred to me how deeply he resented that state of affairs.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“Saruqin. When he became high priest, he began turning people away from the Wandering Path. I didn’t know it, or I would have had him exiled in an instant, but he turned many people against me. Targin was one of the first.”
I wasn’t sure what to say since I didn’t have any brothers, so I knew nothing of family betrayal. Ganyir saved me the trouble of thinking up the words when he continued.
“Piece by piece, they stole control of the guild away from me,” he said. “I blinded myself to the warning signs, even when they maneuvered to have Tahlis thrown out. But at last, the time came when I could ignore it no longer. Targin was set on usurping all authority in Gonki.” He paused, and it seemed that he wouldn’t continue the story.
“You confronted him,” I said after I’d thought about it. “But it was too late. His supporters were all in positions of power.”
“The only solution would have been to fight him outright,” Ganyir said, my words loosening his tongue again. “With two powerful Augmenters battling in the heart of the city, half of Hyng’ohr would have been flattened. I couldn’t do that to my people, so I went into exile instead.”
I couldn’t agree with his choice. Not at all. There were miles of desert where he could have lured his brother to fight, thus preventing the city from being damaged. Ganyir seemed too concerned with the proper thing to do and not the right thing to do.
“Do you regret not fighting your brother?” I asked.
He grimaced. “I thought that in my absence, people of influence would realize how problematic Targin was as a leader. But Saruqin had become too powerful of an influence. When I tried to return, I was not met with open arms but with Mahrai and her monstrous golem. My exile was ensured.”
“I defeated her golem,” I said.
“Her golem has many forms. If you defeated it, then she merely showed you one of its weaker forms.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But you never even tried to take on your brother. You let your city fall to the cultists because you were weak.” I stared him in the eyes, and I wondered how much I’d truly learned from the Seven Realms. I hadn’t used his honorific once since coming to the mountaintop, but I believed that rulers earned their right to rule; they shouldn’t be born into it like Ganyir had been.
He went silent for a moment as he stared at something in the valley. Rather than the anger I’d expected, my words seemed to strike a chord with him. He lifted an arm, and I wondered what he would do next, but then he pointed to the village.
“Look,” he growled.
A new figure had walked into the village. Not just any figure, but one three times the height of the warriors around it, a solid mass of hulking stone. A smaller figure, short and functionally dressed with a neat bob haircut, jumped down from the creature’s shoulders, then walked over to join the Augmenters.
“Mahrai,” I said. “So, you said her golem has multiple forms. If that’s the case, then I’ll just have to defeat whichever one she throws at us.”
“And level a chunk of the valley in the process,” Ganyir stated grimly. “If we want to finish that thing, it’s going to come at a cost.”
“It’s not my land to pay that price,” I said.
“If it means stopping the cultists, then I want you to do it.” Ganyir looked me in the eye. “I failed to fight before. And I’m not sure I can fight now.”
I felt like slapping him across the face, but I stayed my hand.
“But I know you can fight,” he continued. “And if you’re truly the Swordslinger, then you can defeat her golem. And perhaps all the cultists in Gonki.”
Chapter Eleven
In the valley below, the corrupted Augmenters of Hyng’ohr were gathering around Mahrai’s stone golem. They approached the mighty creature with respectful admiration; they had seen this thing several times, but none drew close enough to touch it. There was something intimidating about the greater golem, even to people on its side.
Ganyir drew back from the cliff edge and rose to his feet. “I should return to the temple, gather my weapons, and prepare for the confrontation to come.”
“I’ll move in closer while you prepare,” I said. “I can pick off stragglers and scouts, whittle away some of their numbers and start to put fear in the others. It’s only a start, but it’ll mean there’s a softer target when you arrive.”
“Al. right.” Ganyir nodded slowly. “It’s the start of a plan, at least, and every victory has to start somewhere. While you’re dividing and conquering, I’ll bring the others down and see
