“Forgiven,” he said.
Despite everything, Ashok felt himself laughing, along with the others. He looked at Vedoran. “Do we have a plan?” he asked. He spat blood on the stone floor.
“We won’t speak of it here,” Vedoran said. “Meet downstairs, in our chamber.”
Ashok nodded. The brothers and Chanoch went down, but Vedoran lingered.
“It isn’t what you think,” Ashok said when the others were out of hearing.
“Doesn’t matter,” Vedoran said. “All that matters is what he thinks.” He nodded to Uwan’s door. “The hope I had when I looked at you-”
“Was misplaced,” Ashok agreed. “You should have been looking to yourself. Now Vedoran has his chance. Uwan has made you leader. Prove yourself worthy, without Tempus’s aid.”
“So I will,” Vedoran said.
He started to move past Ashok but paused when Ashok said, “What about Natan? Do you believe his visions?”
“With that cleric and his sister, I don’t know what to believe,” Vedoran said. “What I know is that those two- their lineage at least-is valued in Ikemmu.”
“Why?” Ashok asked.
“Their family was here when Ikemmu was founded,” Vedoran said. “They were the first shadar-kai to inhabit the city.”
“I see,” said Ashok. So brother and sister were a piece of the shadar-kai’s history in Ikemmu, he thought. If possible, it added even more weight to their mission. It would be a blow to the city to lose one of its links to the past.
“You should know this,” Vedoran said. He looked Ashok in the eyes. “No matter what Natan’s visions say, I don’t believe it is Tempus who will save Ilvani and the others.
“I do,” Ashok said. “I would have it no other way.”
The next several days were a blur of training and preparation for the journey north. Vedoran seized his leadership role with ferocity, making Ashok and the others train during all their free time, with no rest but for the time they ate or slept. He allowed Ashok time to train with the nightmare when he learned of Uwan’s concession with regards to the beast, but he kept a wary eye on Ashok the entire time, to make sure the beast didn’t get the best of him again.
But the nightmare, for his part, must have sensed that something was about to happen, for the beast obliged Ashok’s commands without a fight, and though Ashok continued to dream of the caves, his brothers, and his father, the visions did not follow him into his waking hours. He was able to separate his past from his current reality.
Not for long, Ashok thought. Soon his past would come to claim him. He refused to think about what he would have to do when that time came, and concentrated instead on preparing himself physically for what lay ahead.
On the day before they were to depart, Uwan, against Vedoran’s wishes perhaps, gave them all leave to have the day to themselves to do whatever they wished. Ashok went to see Darnae. He wasn’t sure why he did it. He hadn’t seen the halfling since the night at the tavern.
When he stepped into her shop, Darnae was standing at the top of a high stool, brushing cobwebs off the ceiling with a damp cloth.
“There’s a face to wilt a lesser man-or a shadar-kai,” she said with a grin. “I didn’t know if I would see you again.”
Ashok lingered in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “I came to see … how you are?” he asked uncertainly.
“Very well-practicing hard for my next performance at Hevalor. There’s a reason I’m only a messenger,” she said, and winked at him.
“To me it sounded like a dream,” Ashok said earnestly. “I’ve never heard music like that before.”
“You should hear the truly great bards sing,” Darnae said. She flicked a strand of spider silk off her sleeve. “Or hear the elves when they perform in the native tongue. You would weep.”
“I came to tell you that I’m leaving,” Ashok said. “But I hope … I think I’ll be back, in a tenday, or a little more.”
Darnae nodded as if she wasn’t surprised. “Since we met, I’ve heard folk talk about you in the trade districts,” she said, “and not just because of what happened at the tavern. You have my thanks for that-I should have mentioned it before.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Ashok said.
“But I did, and it’s done,” Darnae said. She draped the cloth over her shoulder and sat on the top of the stool, which put her almost at eye-level with Ashok. “I haven’t heard where you’re going and why, but folk who whisper about you say you’re a messenger from Tempus.”
Ashok shook his head. “Don’t believe the things you hear,” he said.
“So you’re not?” Darnae asked, looking speculative. “But you are something different, aren’t you?”
“Why do you say that?” Ashok asked.
Darnae swung her short legs back and forth, curling them beneath the stool rung. Her feet were bare, and bore a fine coating of dirt. “No one else in that tavern would have done what you did,” she said. “They wouldn’t have considered it. Not because they’re cruel or heartless, but the hierarchy is well established here.”
“They see you as beneath them,” Ashok said.
Darnae nodded. She worked the rag in her hands. “It isn’t easy for them to have to rely so much on the labor and trade of other races,” she said. “They are proud of their accomplishments as warriors and of the grip they have upon their souls. But the truth is they slip, sometimes-you’ve seen it for yourself. They are not always as in control as they would like others to think.”
“You speak bluntly,” Ashok said. “You weren’t like this the last time I came here.”
“You’re right,” Darnae said. “I have to keep up polite appearances for the sake of my business. But as I said, something about you seems different. It makes me feel as if I can speak, that you will understand and not be threatened by the truth.”
“I do understand,” Ashok said, waiting while Darnae climbed down the stool. “I should go.”
“I wish you a fair journey, Ashok,” Darnae said. “Come to see me again, when you return.”
“Are you saying that for appearance’s sake?” Ashok asked.
Darnae smiled at him. “What do you think?” she replied.
Ashok smiled back, a tentative expression. “I think I will look forward to seeing you,” he said.
Ashok went back to the tower and lay down to rest before the Exeden bell. He felt himself drifting on the edges of sleep when he heard the sound.
Ashok opened his eyes in the darkness and listened. He heard nothing, and thought he must have imagined it, but when he reached automatically for the weapons at his belt, his hand grazed the wall, and he felt the vibration through the stone.
Sitting up, Ashok put his ear to the tower wall. Low, rhythmic beats, so deep that they passed through the stone into his skin.
He pulled on his boots and left the tower room. Down the stairs the beats got louder, until they shook the dust off the walls. Ashok could see it drifting in the air. There were voices too, a host of men and women shouting in time to the beats.
Ashok threw open the tower door and strode out into the training yard. What he saw stopped the breath in his chest and sent a wave of fear and awe through his soul.
Hundreds of shadar-kai had gathered in the yard. Ashok recognized warriors in training, Guardians, all ranks of the military including Neimal, and the other Sworn. Their feet pounded the ground in a dance even as their voices rose to the shadows above. It was not a song they sang; there were no words, only shouts of triumph and pain as over and over they lifted their legs and drove their feet into the ground in a punishing rhythm that echoed throughout the city.
