***
Gehsek rubbed his eyes with almost enough force to pop them before letting out a long and animalistic groan. He ascended the stairs up to the Keep’s white walls and southern entrance. Pulling a comb from a pouch on his belt, he neatened his hair. It had become frizzed from spending the day among the dust of the Capital streets supervising the beautification of the city. Servants who held his colorful parasol against the setting sun or carried the day’s record tablets ran into the garden the moment the gates opened. The entrance through which the Gwomon would enter had become one of the most polished places in the city with gems being wedged between the bricks, carvings being gently ground into the walls with them, and the doors being painted with Daksin’s glorious subjugation of Uttara by the best artisans the Keep could offer.
The reluctant replacements for Gehsek’s day shift waited for the commander to approach and those touching up the gate or tending the much more ornate garden with the best plants from the other entrances took an undue interest in their work. One replacement summoned up the courage to approach Gehsek. She was holding more tablets and stammered as she rattled off how other sections of the Capital were faring or how small cracks in the city’s walls were being patched.
Gehsek barely heard her. Instead, he looked past them to General Malik standing straight backed behind the crowd. The rising moon gave his bronze armor a purple glint.
“Commander.” He put his fists together and bowed.
Gehsek waved him off.
“We’ve had a preliminary report from the north. We don’t understand fully but something happened near Vatram.”
“Are the clans at war?” Gehsek asked, looking up almost pleadingly.
“No, commander. We lost a few patrols this month but a few of the scouts were near Vatram, no reports of anything traveling from the jungle in case you were wondering, but they were keeping watch and a horrendous noise came from the mountain temple there. Like a battering ram or the like. There was Light, sir, like the Ascetics there were fighting, but it stopped soon after. No report of the northerners marching up to oust the Ascetics either. After, there was an off pressure, or aura, whatever you want to call it coming from there. All we know is it was magical in nature, perhaps spirits or perhaps… Something else.” He scowled.
Gehsek furrowed his brow. “Can we confirm it’s Deiweb?”
“One scout says she saw a person walking through the air, but none of the others can confirm. They can confirm that Dhanur was spotted leaving it.”
Gehsek rubbed his eyes. “Confirmed?”
“The scouts swear by it. A couple fought along with her in the war. They can confirm.”
‘A sacrifice and he can’t even kill a single person?’ Gehsek thought then said, “the Malihabar girl, the one with the seal. The dhanur was traveling with a young woman. Wild hair, a torn sari, a parasol most likely.”
“They said the dhanur was slumped over a bull with a temple Ascetic and a girl as such, Commander.”
“He can’t even wound them all,” Gehsek sighed, pounding his fist into his sword’s pommel.
“The Lord made a dowsing mistake, Commander,” General Malik said curtly and turned, briskly returning to the Keep.
Gehsek was taken aback by his tone. He gripped the pommel of his sword and narrowed his eyes, ready to come nose–to–nose with his subordinate, but instead released another sigh and rubbed his eyes again. He hadn’t been able to oil his hair yet and it had already lost its shape. He tried to run his hand through it, but it caught on his gloves and he nearly tore them off in frustration.
“Uh-uh Lord Geh—” The servant began, but corrected herself as Gehsek glared at her. “Commander! Not Lord, only one of those, sorry, Sir—Commander! I was told to relay—”
The servant’s words fell on deaf ears. The stammering made her hand twitch and she began drumming her fingers. Gehsek wondered how anyone could be content with being such a coward and sitting contently in such a low class.
‘Even the dhanur had been a low born nobody but rose to be a warrior,’ Gehsek thought. Everyone, including Gehsek, would have expected her to live out her days in her temple and die without a name. He hadn’t had many interactions with Dhanur before she put an arrow in his cheek, only passing glances when she was being raised to the warrior class or hearing how she gained glory despite ignoring the unit’s formation. ‘At least she wouldn’t let a superior see her babble so unsurely, especially with a message of importance,’ Gehsek growled in his head. The minute scar on his cheek throbbed as he thought of her and he silently cursed himself for not grabbing his helmet when the alarm was raised that night.
“Commander,” the servant said clearly.
“What, what??”
“The southern gate is opening.”
A dust cloud was visible from atop the Keep’s hill being kicked up into a massive, reddish brown cloud and mixing with the dust of the city’s streets. The south gate tax collector had bailed out of the way when the doors opened. Any cleaning servant unfortunate enough to be nearby cursed their luck at having to start over. However, over the clamor of the gate’s mechanisms and its grinding along the ground, Gehsek heard a much less familiar sound.
It was like the hoof clops of a bull and cart, but much faster. The dust obscured what was at the center until it burst forth from it like a charging elephant. At full speed, a horse and chariot careened down the thankfully well maintained main way. The billow of further dust behind it connected to the cloud by the gate like a snake emerging from its hole.
Gehsek’s blood froze. Blankly, he watched the ornate chariot pass by every lower class and upper class house, like it expected every man, woman, or child on the road to move without warning. Then, as if by magic, the charioteer brought his steed to a halt right at the foot of the hill. The beast screamed as it skidded along the bricks, angrily stamping once it had come to a halt as if running was the only way to contain the vicious creature. The charioteer then dropped the reins as though someone was already there to catch them.
The Commander of the Keep’s guard and the army of the south, right hand to the Lord Hegwous, ran down the steps, took the horse’s reins, and fell to full prostration.
“Honored guest of the Gwomon, I, Gehsek, Commander of the—”
“Are you the Lord?” asked the charioteer in Hegwous’ Gwomon mother tongue as he pointedly brushed dust off his arms.
His skin was the same color as Gehsek’s but he had a few northern features as well such as fuller lips. The commander had only heard Hegwous’ explanation of the Gwomon and foreign gwomoni so he could not place the man’s origin. He was clearly not from Hegwous’ homeland. But his grasp of the gwomoni language was much more fluent than Gehsek’s, speaking without a hint of accent. His dress was just as odd. Rather than a local robe, sari, muga, or even bronze armor, the charioteer sported only a simple white cloth skirt that wasn’t uncommon for Uttara or Daksin but also a wide, flat necklace of multi–colored beads, and braided hair tipped with golden ends.
“N-No, sir.” Gehsek didn’t rise.
“… Mm.” He looked up the stairs into the Keep garden, then didn’t climb them. Instead, he cocked his head at the groveling Gehsek’s jeweled armor. “Fine. I’ve come to bring word of our earlier arrival. The Gwomon are quite pleased by the safety of the roads, even if they don’t fit the description your Lord sent us of an arable, green, paradise of a plateau.”
“My herald, such an outcome was not intended, but it has assured us—you all a powerful addition to your lands to replace what the Lord had lost—”
“Food.”
“I’m sorry, my herald?”
The herald frowned and it hit Gehsek like a stone. “Food. For me and my horse.”
“Y-Yes, sir! Of course!” Gehsek leapt to his feet, startling the horse who snapped at him. Rather than draw his blade, Gehsek’s instinct was to cower. Thankfully, the animal returned to stamping its feet. He was about to yell at the servants and guards watching from the garden’s gate, but instead noticed the small group of upper class watching the spectacle from their homes. “Sir, my herald, the common people, they do not know of our habits. May I ask us to perhaps have this conversation in private?”
The herald looked them over, then shrugged. “The same is true of my queendoms. I will permit a more secluded area.”
“Thank you, sir, my herald, thank you. I shall find a servant t—”
“You would give my chariot to a lesser?”
“Of course not! That wasn’t—”
“Then lead us.”
Gehsek led him and the chariot to the stables. He brought them around the Keep’s hill, allowing for still more stares from the city dwellers, all of whom marveled at the animal pulling the chariot.
“They have not seen horses, sir. To them this is but an emaciated bull,” Gehsek said.
“… Mm,” the herald replied, brushing off another mote of dust from his arm. He had no care for the occasional angry snort or yank the horse gave Gehsek.
The commander was more than strong enough to hold the beast, but he had only seen one other horse in his life who was even more recalcitrant and much larger, and thus had no idea how to calm it. Its master didn’t appear worried so Gehsek figured it was what all horses were like.
‘A blessing Hegwous didn’t have these monsters during the wars,’ he thought.
“Is it much farther?” the herald asked impatiently.
“No! Not at all, my herald! I figured we would stable this horse before we speak.”
“Your time is up. We will speak and you will feed me and my horse in the stable. Not a welcome introduction…” Rather than take the effort to recall Gehsek’s name, the herald let himself trail off.
It took everything in Gehsek to keep his mouth shut.
The Keep’s stables were at its base, built into the hill itself. Its doors were the same as all the other entrances, able to be barred in case of attack. Two bronze clad guards were standing at attention when they arrived, but instead of bowing, they stepped back, bewildered by the new animal and oddly dressed man accompanying their commander.
“Have you never been Outside?!” Gehsek snapped at them in Daksinian. “Are strange things so new to you? Open the stables! Fetch breakfast for our guest and prepare refreshments for his horse!”
With frantic but practiced rhythm, the warriors pulled with all their might to open the door.
“Are they not like us?” the herald asked.
“No. Sir. Please enter.”
“Mm.”
The bulls inside all chuffed and rattled in their pens at the unfamiliar smell of the horse. It, in turn, stamped as if it would ram them with horns of its own. While the stable was large for a cave, most pens were empty except for ornate saddlebags like Dekha’s or carts with covered chairs emblazoned with the sigils of the visiting governors from Vitroi’s house Brthli to Doivi’s house Deuhera. Gehsek tied the horse’s reins to the post of one of the largest pens.
“My, do your animals get so large?” The herald ran his hand along the pen’s gate, checking for any splinters.
“Only elephants, sir.”
“Oh, you have them too?” The herald raised his brows, intrigued.
“Yes! Of course, my herald! When it is not the whetseason and the ground is dry—” Gehsek winced. Although the word for wet season was two words in the Gwomon tongue, he couldn’t help but make them one due to his native Daksinian. The herald rolled his eyes as Gehsek continued, “They can quickly bowl over our enemies. With the successful war against the northern clans, they were sent to more hospitable quarters out in my house’s lands to the west.”
“Your Lord still cares so much for animals?” he scoffed. “A herder who could barely bring himself to kill any of his flock.”
“Commander.” A guard ran up. “What sort of feed does this, uh, animal eat?”
The horse was busy picking at the hay littering the stone floor.
“It’s sated. Food, now.” Gehsek growled.
The guard ran off with the stable servants following.
Gehsek took half a second to center himself with a silent sigh, turned, and asked, “You’re coming early, sir? You and the whole Gwomon?”
The herald looked to Gehsek’s hand fisting on his sword, and slowly met his eyes. Gehsek retracted his grip, claiming a warrior’s habit. “Yes. We happened upon quite a few of your patrols clearing the ways. Nasty creatures infesting these roads. Nasty. Men with heads of animals but they are no Gods, the dead walking, insects the size of men. They spooked a few horses.” The horse in the stocks snorted as if scoffing. “But we have made much better time because of these patrols you have sent out, despite the collapsed lands.”
“My herald?”
“The ones your Lord previously ruled.”
“Ah. The Rivers.”
“Mm. Whatever you call them. They are still infested with creatures. I assume the Valley he ruined as well is too.”
“Sir, Lord Hegwous never ruled the Valley south of the plateau and has not had power over the Rivers since they collapsed centuries ago. You cannot expect us to patrol them and control this new land.”
“We expect you to replace what you lost—Ugh. What your Lord has lost.”
“We are, we have. Soon more will be given, as bountiful as the Rivers once were. The north of this land is filled with rich forests and even many ports on the coast leading to countless unknown lands beyond. We ship in much through our western ports, tin, food, luxury spices, and dyes. But Uttara—”
“This is your north, correct?”
“Yes, sir. Their ports are much more useful than the western ones we hold now. We will soon link these distant, overseas lands to you and bring in shipments from the Gwomon’s lands and restock—”
“You haven’t taken the north? Your Lord has said the war was concluded.”
“The first phase, yes!” Gehsek mentally crushed his sword pommel. “We’re engaged in phase two now, my herald! We have a plan, they are weakened from the fires but we are still strong! We shall replace their ruler with one of us and break down local resistance. Soon this land, the rich north, and its ports will be yours, for the whole Gwomon to expand yet further.”
“A burned land and one filled with unruly peoples? Mm.”
The guard who ran for breakfast burst back in before Gehsek could try to save the conversation, his cup of diluted blood sloshing.
“You’re late,” Gehsek growled again and kneeled to present the drink.
But the herald sneered at its scent. He pushed it over with his foot.
“I would rather go hungry.” He began to unyoke the chariot. “Be warned. By Ra’s rays, warn your Lord. His failures with the Rivers and losing the neighboring Valley were a terrible stain on him. Now this meeting… We did not foresee the Rivers drying up so soon, be it from Hegwous’ failures or not. Nor did we foresee the Nile refusing to unite. But we do not intend to make these mistakes again.” After unyoking the horse, he led it to the gate, picked up the chariot with one arm, and placed it back down as simply as one would move a basket. “I will inform the Gwomon of this. Our Pharaohs held their queendoms together despite the failed unification. Your Lord did not. I hope your meager preparation will suit our Oracles.”
“O… Or…”
The herald scoffed.
“I see you weren’t informed. That’s one way to be told you’re not trusted, I suppose,” he said to himself, then snickered to Gehsek, “I doubt Hegwous is competent enough to foil our oracles. Fine. Consider this your warning. Prepare for Oracles.”
With that, he gave the horse a whip and bolted out into the night.
The guard waved away a spattering of straw that was kicked up, but Gehsek didn’t move.
The supreme Commander of Daksin’s armies and right hand to Lord Hegwous stared blankly at the open doors as the townspeople watched the herald thunder off. He didn’t notice how close the guards on the walls came to not opening the gate in time, nor did he see how they directed their bonfires to drive off the creatures of the Outside who avoided the Gwomon’s herald more than their defenses, nor the violet clouds of the moon twisting in and out of each other. They were slowing down, but he knew that they no longer had until the new moon.
“Commander!” The guard finally got his attention.
“What??” Gehsek turned violently.
“Why did you accept that??” The guard didn’t flinch. “He acted as if he owned the plateau and you! And you let him!”
Gehsek sighed, rubbing his eyes.
“Commander!” When he got no response, the guard shook his head and walked off.
Gehsek knew exactly what his warrior was thinking, that under his bronze scales, the commander must have gone old and soft. His graying hair would have proven so, but Gehsek plucked a stone from the floor and crushed it between his fingers to prove logic wrong.
Then he caught the smell of the spilled breakfast.
He stormed past the second barrable door at the end of the stable and into the hollowed out drop connecting it to the Keep. Rather than take the spiral stairs built into the wall he walked onto the lift in the middle used for all goods brought in. When he tugged on the rope dangling all the way from the ceiling, no one responded to the pottery and shells rattling at its other end. Incensed, he stormed over to the stairs, nearly stepping on a small coal black mouse that squealed when he got close.
The steps exited near the kitchen. The area was abuzz with the line into it stretching far down the carpeted halls and the crowd enjoying their breakfast cups at the other end.
Gehsek shuffled forward in line as the procession of nobles made their nightly trip through the kitchen, each with their personal goblet in hand. He still silently grumbled that he wasn’t in a separate queue. The noisy jingle of his jeweled armor reminded him of his higher rank, but he knew better than to try to seem too superior in front of a group of physically powerful nobles of the same gwomoni blood. Especially with the whispers running through the line.
With all their ears being as sensitive as each other’s, they knew how quiet to be but Gehsek picked up the gist of it. They were repeating “Hegwous”, “Malihabar”, “Scorching”, or other such phrases. Soon, they gave up hiding and spoke as openly as they wanted. Once he looked back, only to see Doivi checking behind herself with a coy smile. Gehsek squeezed his sword handle.
After all the years and remodeling they had done to the Keep since seizing it, new rooms, combining old ones, a new garden, the expanding towers, rearranging hallways, the kitchen had barely changed. None of the mudbrick stoves and their chimneys had moved, the same tables that had been there for decades and centuries still sported their ancient stains, racks were at the same places on the walls, only replaced if they broke. It still housed the myriad of cooks and servants who prepared the rations of the Keep’s non-gwomoni servants and warriors. But at night they prepared the nobles’ meal including the head of the kitchen himself, Paluka, who tasted each pot of blood to ensure it was properly diluted. As Gehsek trudged to the imported cedar serving table with their breakfast, he rubbed his eyes again. One of the cooks continued to dilute the human blood from today’s worst criminals, new corpses for the catacombs, or the much smaller blood tax from other governors' own harvested humans and animals.
“The blood tax was delayed, Commander Gehsek,” the beak nosed and wizened governor Traanla stated matter-of-factly. Even though she commanded lands near the Capital, Gehsek whirled around to stare her down. His cape flapped with his speed, almost mimicking Lord Hegwous’ but it only knocked a cup from the noble in the queue ahead of him. Traanla was unphased. “Fewer people have died so we cannot harvest their blood, nor have we apprehended many criminals.”
“How would you know? You’ve been here to wait for the embassy!”
“We have to feed our own nobles.”
“You have far fewer than we do here.”
Traanla didn’t say another word, she only stepped past him to get her fill.
Gehsek looked back on the line of nobles walking past him. The bags under his eyes made it harder and harder to remember all their faces and names. Upon receiving his ration from a normal cup on the table, he gingerly picked out a fleck of bone to flick it at the cook, who apologized profusely for not straining it enough. Paluka ran over past a packed clay stove and tables still being cleaned off from preparing the day’s regular meals.
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“Commander, we’re doing the best we can,” he said, his weight not having diminished with his transformation to a gwomoni.
“The Gwomon will kill you, then me with just that speck. Get it right.” The commander scowled. ‘What am I? Some disgusting Outside dweller?’ he complained in his head as he stormed out of the kitchen to join the myriad of cliques the nobles parceled into as they congregated in the hallway.
Every single one grew silent as Lord Hegwous’ right hand approached, but their complaining was louder than usual the past few days, and not because of their meal. When he was still in the queue, he heard their whispers of fear and disdain for their Lord’s most recent blunder as well as Janurana’s arrival and the usual complaints about taxes while being held in the Capital for a foreign embassy. She was only a servant, but his living sacrifice to a creature not even Gehsek fully understood still tainted their thoughts.
“Yesterday a servant, tomorrow one of us?” Gehsek heard governor Hoika whisper to another noble after he walked past them.
He wanted to snap back something like “go manage your own lands, let the Lord manage them all” but he knew they had to stay per the Lord’s order to be ready for the Gwomon. With them apparently coming sooner, he relished in the one good thought of how pleasantly quiet it would be sending the governors home sooner.
‘But with such dissension. Best to keep them from their armies,’ he continued thinking. Then he scowled. ‘Oracles. What does it matter anymore?’
He didn’t even try to calm them and only took a sip of his meal.
Ahbigah was shuffling among the groups, taking empty cups or asking if they needed anything else as the other servants were. Her calming smile fell when she caught Gehsek’s scent. As he passed, she turned her back to him.
‘They might forget once the high from their breakfast sets in,’ he thought as he had done each feeding since the sacrifice. But he knew the diluted blood didn’t give the same burst as a human, or even a vetala. It wasn’t even hunted properly. It was tainted. As disgusting as Gehsek thought it was to live Outside, it added a certain visceral feel to each kill.
Still, he knew the governors and Keep as a whole needed reassurance and it had to come from the man who committed the deed, otherwise it might appear insincere.
‘They may be keeping their dissent quiet, but a silent arrow is more deadly than an announced one,’ Gehsek repeated his version of an old saying.
He walked by each group in silence. Doivi and the other nobles who had taken charge of the spies didn’t say a word, the servants who supervised the cleaning and prepping for the Gwomon kept their mouths shut as per Ahbigah’s orders. Hoika was busy with a group of lesser nobles who weren’t around for the initial conquest of house Malihabar. “Malihabar girl” and “Janelsa” were repeated ten times as Gehsek passed. The spies from Doivi’s group had fanned out and were repeating the same story rather than trek north and try to rebuild the networks Upavid had managed. Soon, the conversations were equally lamenting Hegwous’ sacrifice and his inability to even finish his very first fight. Gehsek stormed up to Doivi who played with her jamawar sash as if nothing were amiss. The collection of small nearby city rulers she was regaling exchanged knowing glances. Again, he knew the correction had to come from Hegwous, not his Commander’s sword. He grimaced at the lack of acknowledgement, nearly crushing his cup.
He found more friendly faces and acknowledgments from his own house, those donning the Elephant sigil. Gehsek had led them to victories plenty of times before and the taxes brought in from the western ports’ trade made their families well taken care of. Many of the captains, guards, and generals all did the same, their acknowledgement of his presences serving as their vote of confidence. Despite it all, they too remembered the victories Gehsek had given them. However, the guards brought in by the governors, those with their sigils and those around General Malik, went silent. And the one who had seen him supplicate to the Gwomon herald was speaking to another group who kept their heads down.
Gehsek turned the corner to climb up to Hegwous’ chambers in the tallest tower.
As he did, the same black mouse skittered across his path and he stumbled back in surprise. A spattering of blood splashed onto his armor, causing him to grumble again.
“Why do I need to sleep?” came an impetuous voice from behind.
Gehsek stumbled again, thankfully not spilling his drink a second time, but he clutched his cup as he tried to repress his annoyance at being startled so often so early in the night. He took in a suitable breath before addressing the tiny, smarmy brat pouting behind him. Her northern face demanded a different answer than the one she had previously received.
“Because you’re still not used to your transformation,” Gehsek replied.
“It’s already been a few years!” Tollai pouted deeper. “Besides, doesn’t blood keep us awake?” she tutted, wondering why her obvious logic wasn’t working.
“Tollai, you are a child and you will do what we say!”
Tollai tried not to be phased, but she stepped back as the massive Gehsek stepped forward to enforce his statement. “I don’t get it!”
“Urgh,” he groaned and leaned his head back. “Your body hasn’t fully acclimated to the transformation. You need to keep a regular sleep schedule and eat regular food until you can switch to the night like us.”
“How long will that be?”
“It took me a few years.” Gehsek looked out the window to the moon.
“Oh! So, I’ll be all gwomoni soon too.” Tollai beamed with pride. “It had better be before you make me the northern Maharaj!”
“I don’t know.” He rubbed his head in exasperation. “Go to bed,” he growled and turned to leave her, but she refused to be abandoned to spend time with normal servants as she was every morning when they all went to sleep.
“Why do you all sleep during the day?” she asked, jogging to catch up, smug as she poked holes in his logic.
“Because it’s either that or we double our blood intake. We have to dilute it already.” He frowned at the swill of pure and animal blood he was forced to drink, more animal than ever.
“Then kill more people?” Tollai chortled at how dumb he was being.
“And then we would have to deal with you all day! Now go to bed!” Gehsek punctuated his sentence with a huff and flourish of his cape, leaving Tollai behind, staring at the floor.
He shoved his annoyance to the side, drowning it with more blood. He needed its energy to shut out the anger. Hegwous wouldn’t respond well to him yelling again, especially with the messenger’s news. The servants cleaning the Keep’s seemingly endless dust bolted out of his path. He didn’t even care for or notice the piles they had been so diligently sweeping. Any that clung to his billowing cape were shaken off as he stormed up the stairs to the remodeled lookout tower Hegwous had claimed as his own. Gehsek paused half way up. His cape continued forward, breaking on his body like a wave as he thought he was stomping far too loud.
His emotions suddenly vanished as he thought about how Hegwous would interpret his loud steps. Gehsek wondered if he wanted Hegwous to hear him approach, knowing it would make knocking on his door less of a shock. Then he rubbed his sword pommel. Like the other gwomoni he never made any noise as he walked, which he never got used to. After centuries, he missed the sounds of his own boots. His scales still clattered as he walked, however, which Gehsek knew Hegwous would hear if he was listening. Regardless, he continued up. He knew Hegwous heard him groan, and downed the entire cup as one would a bottle of drink when the door came into view. Its imported cedar was almost as ostentatious as the Great Gate of the city, with bars of bronze decorating the door. It was a single line with multiple others sticking out of its sides. Hegwous had insisted they were “trees of his homeland”, but they were none that Gehsek had ever seen. With a deep sigh, he knocked on the door.
“Hegwous.” No response. “It’s me.” Still nothing. “I’m coming in.”
Gehsek slid the door open, but rather than get hit by the blast of draft from the window Hegwous always kept unshuttered, the air was still. It wasn’t that no wind was blowing outside, it simply refused to crash against the Keep’s Lord as his imposing form blocked the solitary window over his bed that was a copy of the Maharaj’s throne. He still had on his cloak, held tightly around him. Gehsek still wasn’t sure if it was his blanket or not.
He sat cross legged on the bed, two goblets of blood stagnating on the floor next to the piles and piles of tablets he had requested, ones specifically regarding house Malihabar, the few detailing Aarushi’s betrayal, of his conquest of the plateau, the war with Uttara, and all the years between the two. He stared down the main road heading south, then mechanically looked to the mountain temple in the north. Even for him, the darkness of the night kept the world vague and he was never sure if some flash was a trick of the night or something moving. Regardless, Hegwous had felt the disturbance at the lonely mountain. He stroked his massive earring, unsure if he could see the fluctuating barrier around the temple as spirits could on their own plane, or if it was the night being vague there as well. What he did know for certain was that temple was where a few of the Ascetics of the Light who refused to fight sheltered during the war, but even that filled him with uncertainty.
By then, the city’s gate had closed with the dust settling back down. However, Hegwous couldn’t bring himself to look down on it.
Gehsek took a step inside, slowly closing the door. “Tollai is still complaining about having to sleep at night.”
Hegwous gave a guttural response.
‘That was something,’ Gehsek thought. He continued, “I think she’s bored during the day. She is taking a bit longer than most, longer than Janurana did.” Gehsek curled his lips at having mentioned her already but Hegwous didn’t respond. “But I’m sure the Gwomon will appreciate a northern girl being around. They’ll certainly see her as an apt choice to pull out any ambitious northern clans.” Hegwous didn’t reply, but he did twitch his shoulders. “A little girl slipped onto the northern throne, they’ll try to overthrow her or control her, and you can take out all troublesome would–be rulers when they do. They’ll break into their clan infighting then. They’ll be leaderless and we can march in with the chaos.”
Gehsek straightened himself up, hoping his pride would encourage Hegwous and make him do the same. Hegwous continued to stare out.
“My Lord, is it because I brought Janurana up? You were kind to not kill her then.” It took everything in Gehsek to say that as his blade still demanded Janurana’s blood. “She was still only a girl. You had no idea she would escape once she turned.”
No response.
“Hegwous. You have to eat.” He stepped forward.
The Lord peeled open his lips, stiff from days of disuse. “This tastes awful.”
“I know it does, I do. Trust me. But you have to eat.”
“Deiweb should have been back by now.”
“Oh, Light leave Deiweb!” Gehsek bellowed. He threw up his arms, exasperated, and spun to punch the door, but stopped just shy and gripped his sword again when he turned back. Hegwous slowly rotated his neck, glaring down the warrior who should be serving his Lord. Gehsek recoiled, but his brow stayed furrowed. “The entire Keep is worried. No. Not worried. They’re terrified by what you did! I hear words of dissension! Few had even seen Deiweb, let alone seen you give him a tithe!”
“It was a bargain—”
“They saw their Lord giving something so powerful a tribute for the chance that his request may be accepted! Something that was a living sacrifice! What is he, an Oracle?!”
Hegwous rose with blinding speed, coming face to face with Gehsek, whose heart dropped. “Do we have to have this argument again??” His cloak continued forward, enveloping Gehsek, as if all the wind from the past few days had come rushing forth at once. The Lord stood straight, bending at the hip to glare down.
“Y—Yes!” Gehsek stammered. He wasn’t a short man, and Hegwous was almost always slumping forward, and he had forgotten how tall his Lord was, but even during the war and victorious cheers, Hegwous didn’t stand as tall as he was in front of Gehsek. Gehsek stood as resolute as he could as the world around him began to fade with Hegwous’ cloak rising of its own accord. “Your subjects are terrified! Doivi and Hoika are spreading the knowledge of who Janelsa was to anyone who wasn’t around then! Traanla is refusing to pay any taxes, Vitroi, general Malik, they’re all openly defying us! You said you were worried that they may decide Janurana is preferable to your rule? Deiweb has made that much more likely! But I can’t correct them! You have to ease their fears and regain their trust! Do you really think they’ll do their best job to make you look good for the Gwomon if they fear you? You have to establish order and bring them back to your fold. Governors are speaking with more local, smaller nobles. Disloyalty, Hegwous!”
“I thought a general would understand discipline,” he glowered.
“You would sacrifice them as discipline?”
Hegwous leaned back and out of Gehsek’s face.
Gehsek shook his head. “I can kill any of my warriors, send them on a suicide mission if they so much as mispronounce your name! But I don’t. Because a warrior is willing to follow their commander for honor and respect, and goes missing during the battle because of hate and fear! And they show up bearing the enemy’s sigil during the next engagement.”
Hegwous leaned back more, his scowl softening. “... Is that a threat?”
“What?? No! Hegwous, I literally stabbed my own governor in the back to join you, I followed you through victory and defeat, and literally took arrows for you.” The scar on his cheek twitched again. “But you can’t try to justify this. I fear even my own men will plot against me! Even before—” He kept himself from mentioning the messenger yet. “You’re worried about extrinsic factors, but if the Gwomon see you have control of your court, complete loyalty, they’ll be loath to believe you can't deal with a few outside matters, despite what they think you did with the Rivers. You have to reassure the governors.”
Hegwous looked down at the cups of blood, gaining a fine layer of dust, then back up, not saying a word, but his eyes had softened.
“Tell them…” Gehsek peeked around, trying to think. “He was a thrall.”
Hegwous shook his head, the tiniest chuckle leaving him. “Gehsek, come now.”
“Only a summoned bull? Yeah?” He nodded. “Maybe not?”
The two men stood in silence, both staring at the ground, as the silvery hem of Hegwous’ cloak had returned to the floor.
“I saw him,” Hegwous said as he slunk back to the window, watching the cloud of dust kicked up by the chariot. It only then fully dissipated within the walls and faded into the dark outside them.
“Are they all like him?” Gehsek relaxed since he didn’t have to start that line of conversation. “It’s no wonder you’ve been so stressed if so, Hegwous.”
“Why didn’t you call for me?”
“Hegwous, you can barely speak with the governors. I don’t think you could endure the Gwomon tonight.”
“I will need to, Commander,” Hegwous said. Gehsek didn’t reply and his Lord sighed, “Too much at once.”
“It’s okay, Hegwous. The Rivers weren’t your fault. You ruled them, yes, but even their Oracles,” the word caught in Gehsek’s throat but he recovered quickly. “Even they didn’t see them failing for a few more hundred years. Something is different about this world than they predicted and they’re trying to blame you rather than admit so.” He put a hand on his Lord’s shoulder. “You’ve conquered the south and are subduing the north. They’ll come and see it as a proper addition. I’m sure for the next conquest they’ll grant you their horses and chariots.”
“Yes.” Hegwous’ hand materialized from the folds of his cloak to tap Gehsek’s solid, gloved hand. The sight of the Lord’s leathery, emaciated skin made the Commander frown.
“How do you control them? Are they all like your horse?” Gehsek asked.
“Ha!” Hegwous threw his head back, his hair waving in the wind. Gehsek startled, but chuckled at his Lord’s smile. “Oh no. Some take a strong hand but mine, he was a horse. There are plenty of soft horses as hard ones, like bulls. Still,” he sighed and his frown returned, “it certainly would have made the wars easier.”
“You’ll be back in their graces soon, then we can continue with the rest of our ambitions.”
“Very true.” That made Hegwous standup straighter. “Yes. Yes.” He chuckled. “Remember when— No.”
“What?”
“Best not to dwell on stories we’ve laughed to a hundred times. Focus on the now.”
“It’s okay, Hegwous.”
“It will be nice to do as I did with the Rivers. I know you weren’t there, but there was much less war, infighting, much less rich and poor. Prosperous…”
Gehsek rubbed the gems encrusted on his sword. “We’ll get there. We’re moving there now.”
“Yes… Yes we are.” Hegwous’ content sigh and smile broke Gehsek’s heart.
The Commander drummed his fingers on his sword, as if preparing to give a painful order to a warrior.
“What is it, Commander?”
“They’re arriving early,” Gehsek blurted out.
Hegwous sighed, slumping again. His budding grin instantly faded.
“Our patrols have proven successful, despite the Rivers still being overrun with Outside creatures.” Gehsek continued, relaying all information, including their less than great impression and even what the herald looked like.
“Khemet,” Hegwous said, touching his earring. “He’s from Khemet.”
“Right. The… Nile lands.” Gehsek drummed his fingers again and the Lord stroked his gem.
“Thank you for the information, Gehsek,” Hegwous said.
Gehsek summoned every single last ounce of his strength. With one massive heave he blurted out the only thing he had left to say. “They’re bringing an Oracle.”
Hegwous’ hand spasmed on the gem and he choked as if he had inhaled an entire goblet of drink. With speed that made his previous rush look pitifully slow, he snapped around and his cloak did two rotations around his body. “Gehsek,” The Lord said with a voice weak and hoarse.
The commander only nodded.
“No. Gehsek. No. He said that? Those words? ‘Prepare for an oracle’?” Shakily, Hegwous stepped forward and seized Gehsek’s shoulders. The bronze buckled and bent.
“Oracles.”
Hegwous’ face reached its maximum expression of dread. His brows twisted as if trying to burrow into his nose which flared. Despite twitching, his fingers bent more of Gehsek’s bronze scales. His knees wobbled, about to bring him to the floor. Gehsek grabbed under Hegwous’ shoulders to keep him upright and he felt frail, as if the weight on the Lord’s shoulders was actually making him lighter. But all at once, Hegwous’ face crashed to a placid, melted flatness. He returned to the window.
“I don’t know if we’ll need to wait to rejoin them, Gehsek.”
“W—What? You don’t—” Gehsek sputtered.
“Let me rephrase that. I don’t know if we can wait to rejoin them.”
“Hegwous! I don’t—With the north still—Taking on the whole—”
“It will only be the heads. I made sure to assure them of the land’s safety once they pass through the Rivers. Surely, if they doubted me, they’d have recalled any messengers asking for such reinforcements once they saw our patrols.”
“Hegwous, the north isn’t subdued! The governors are talking rebellion! We’re taking the naan from the pan before it’s cooked. No! We haven’t even finished mixing the dough! We can’t stand against them, we need time, years! A hundred years at least! We couldn’t withstand an invasion if we kill the Gwomon now!”
“And we can withstand multiple Oracles?”
Gehsek balked. “I… Don’t know, Lord Hegwous.”
“Gehsek. I was there for the first. The very first, before we had even left the homelands. My people, the black cloaks.” He pulled at his cloak. “We were the Oracle’s price…”
Gehsek blinked. “Hegwous, why is this the first I’m hearing of—”
“You think I want to talk about that? They didn’t take me from my people because I was a good leader. They took my people from me and then moved me like a brick in a wall! Gehsek, they killed us. We were just herders. We wanted nothing to do with their expansions from the homelands. The first of the Gwomon demanded warriors to fight if we would not supply them with our herds. But we had no experience in the combat they wanted, more than just protecting our herds. They decided the only use we had to them was for their Oracle. They slaughtered every one of us, every black cloak, and sent our blood out as the price for their vision. They will not accept that it has failed them. You weren’t there for the Rivers, when it was clear they were drying up. Why do you think I needed you and the other houses to overthrow Janelsa?”
“I know they blame you, Hegwous.” Gehsek held out a hand.
“I was to blame, Gehsek! They blamed me! For the vision they bought with my people’s blood failing! It was revenge, they thought. I ruined their vision by destroying the lands I ruled because they killed my people. It makes perfect sense, no? What better way to get back at them? It couldn’t be that their oracle was wrong, no. But the Nile not uniting? That couldn’t have been me. But it couldn’t be that they weren’t invincible! No, I lost them the Rivers somehow, its spillover cost them the southern Valley, the connections to the lands further west across the sea! I am the problem that caused the Rivers themselves to dry up! Their Oracle told them it was centuries before anything would be a problem. They need to make sure this time. Our plateau further south? This was nothing to them so they didn’t care enough to give me help. Now they won’t care about sacrificing it. Me giving one girl to Deiweb has caused such dismay… An Oracle… Oracles… There won’t be anyone left to cause the dismay.” He stroked his gem again, the insignificant shadow inside it followed his finger tip.
“How many?” The words were a struggle for the Commander to push out.
“Hundreds, thousands, they may use this whole plateau.” Hegwous grabbed his window frame and the bricks cracked. “Perhaps Uttara as well. Perhaps you and me. A more fitting way to pay them back, the Rivers, my Rivers being the first change to their visions. They lost their assurances to power, Gehsek. They don’t know the future anymore. I’m certain they have seen other changes since the Rivers dried up apart from the Nile. I wonder if the Achaeans even attacked Willious. Perhaps the Neshians conquered them all.”
“Hegwous?” Gehsek stopped him before more names he wasn’t familiar with bounced off his ears.
“Don’t you remember anything I taught you?” Hegwous rolled his eyes.
“It was a long time ago. You still struggle to write our script so I can’t study. I just need to be reminded, Lord Hegwous.”
“Yes. You should be. Check on your warriors, Gehsek. Find out who we can fully trust. I shall do the same for the nobles.”
“Then… We’re really doing this now? Plans be forsaken?”
Hegwous only nodded.
“Yes, Lord Hegwous.” Gehsek started to bow with fists pressed together but Hegwous wasn’t done.
“We shall prepare plans to seal the city when the Gwomon arrives. I don’t want a single one escaping. I shall educate those we can trust on how to do this, ditches with running water, garlic on every weapon, perhaps spears with no head to impale their hearts immediately, there is much to be done.”
“You won’t be asking Deiweb to form a rune like those on the walls?” Gehsek nearly scoffed, but knew better and he had to know.
Hegwous didn’t say no, but he didn’t say yes either. “Find out more about the northerners’ movements. Not what happened there recently. I know our spies are weaker and under Doivi’s control, but our scouts are strong, yes?”
“They can keep watch on Vatram and any lands south of the jungle.” The Commander declared, ignoring any possible casualties, and the growing displeasure of the general of the scouts, Malik.
“Ensure they do. I want no surprise attack.”
“Nor do I, Hegwous,” Gehsek chuckled.
Hegwous, with no pained expression, laughed melodically. The music left him as naturally as a bird and hit Gehsek like an attacking eagle. At first, Gehsek grinned awkwardly, confused since he didn’t think it was that funny, but he noticed Hegwous standing much more upright. His shoulders were visible under his cloak, smaller than during his conquest against Janelsa Malihabar, but straighter than they had been for a long time. Even a wrinkle or two looked to disappear.
“Let us strike the commanders of our enemies. Their warriors can do what they please once we have taken their leaders’ heads.” Lord Hegwous extended his hand, naturally leaving his cloak rather than slithering from somewhere in its intelligible folds.
“Our lands are ours.” Gehsek seized it with vigor. The Lord was more than happy to reciprocate.
“No Oracle shall scorch our lands.” Hegwous paused, his smile leaving him. He sighed and slouched a bit, but not fully. “We’ll create the Rivers once again,” he said with a touch of his previous melancholy. “Calm down, Gehsek, you may keep your gems even if all the people have enough grain.”
“I’ll go get you something fresh to drink. Please, drink it.” Gehsek turned to the door, peeling it open.
“Must it be some poor creature? Have we no more criminals or fresh corpses?” Hegwous asked as he leaned over, picking through the tablets and brushing the dust off one at the top of a stack. It sprinkled down and settled into one of his full goblets of blood.
“Tollai asked the same thing. We’ll eat what we must.” Gehsek sighed.
He closed the door behind him as he left, gripping his sword handle with almost enough force to crack the gems.
‘Take my gems, will you?’ He thought, scoffed at the notion, and descended the stairs. ‘It didn’t work for Muli. Weren’t you a herder before this? How are you not used to eating animals?’ Gehsek scoffed again, then the wet ripping tear of the sacrifice servant’s neck rattled through his ears.
But, again, he nearly tripped on the same black mouse again. He tried kicking it, but it was too fast and scurried away. Try as he might, he couldn’t think of a single black mouse he had seen before, but that wasn’t the concern. He stormed back to the kitchen with all the cliques dispersed by then, and returned to the Lord’s chambers with two full cups.
“Take up your strength, Lord Hegwous,” he said, taking the old cups.
But the Lord had slumped over his table, sorting out the tablets he had requested earlier about the Malihabar house, and didn’t even notice his breakfast. “Bring me any of the uncategorized records from the homeland, anything on the Gwomon. Anything on foreign magic as well. Upavid made quite a study of it. Her spies found many tablets, if I remember. As did Aarushi, she studied it too. I will instruct you on what you have forgotten on the Gwomon. Wall layouts too. The Capital’s walls, not Arkhaim’s walls, the Gwomon’s walls. I don’t think they have those back at Arkhaim. Sorry, you need re-education. The homeland’s first city. The Gwomon, their capital. Speak to builders if you need to if the records are illegible. Make new ones. Our builders, not Arkhaim’s.”
“Hegwous.”
“Mm? Oh. Yes, yes. Sorry. Fetch a servant to do so, you get back to work.”
Gehsek chuckled and patted Hegwous’ shoulder. He flinched, as if already forgetting the commander was there, being so engrossed in his work already.
The black mouse had scuttled inside Hegwous’ chamber and fled back down the stairs as Gehsek left. He suddenly remembered that he hadn’t told Hegwous about the status of the Malihabar girl and the dhanur. They were heading north, which Gehsek knew could be a problem.
‘They may kill Dhanur on sight for her service or Janurana for just looking like a noble. But where else to find refuge from our warriors? And where else to find enough warriors to provoke to attack us?’ he thought, settling on the vague conclusion that they will need to be dealt with eventually. ‘If the Gwomon is arriving early, less time for them to muster an army. Unless they take a smaller force and infiltrate. No. That didn’t work before and they had the Maharaj to let them in.”
The pointlessness of Deiweb’s sacrifice rattled through his conscience again. For a moment, he thought of confronting the warriors that had been scowling at him. However, he realized that, with the Lord changing from preparing a feast to spears, he wouldn’t need to coordinate cleaning crews. That put a smile on his face. Sleepless nights preparing earth works and sharpening spears he could handle. He knew they would have to continue some cleaning, lest the Gwomon refuse to even enter the gates before they were trapped Inside.