***
Behind most of the pinned tapestries in the Keep’s sun temple was solid wall, but a few hid portholes and tunnels. With the temple being much easier to breach than the Keep or even the stable, the generals thought it was best to have a place for warriors to ambush any invaders.
“Why didn’t I know of these?” the head of the temple’s ascetics, Rucidaja scoffed and folded her arms.
“You didn’t need to until now.” Hegwous stood beside her, still slumping, but not as much as usual. Enough light was leaking through the sheet for them to see and not be burned. He stared out at Aarushi Aabha who raised her hands slathered in ghee and turmeric paste up to the sun, wishing it luck on its journey under the world. The whole temple repeated her mantra, clustered around the offering pit in a haze of sweat covered by the fog of incense.
“The north had no chance of fully breaching the walls, let alone the Keep. Still, we felt it best to keep any secrets until they were necessary.” Gehsek added, standing behind them both but between her and his Lord.
“Are we going to war again?” Rucidaja puffed out her chest proudly. “We’re ready to do right by you again.
“Are you not hurt by the scorching?” Hegwous motioned out to the temple with a nod.
“What? Pilgrims? Bah. Who needs them?”
“You, I’d assume,” Hegwous interjected.
“Let me finish. By the Rays. Figured you’d learn patience being so old.” She prodded Hegwous with a thick finger.
Gehsek’s eyes flashed open, but Hegwous chuckled.
“So did I, but sometimes patience is pointless,” he said.
“Yeah, that I agree with. You don’t have to worry about the pilgrims or the other temples. Most of them still think the scorching was some kind of spirit. Few here are talking about what happened with that thing in the throne room, but they’re still standing tall on their victory over the spirits. They’d love to blast that thing you had to pay tribute to.”
“I’m not sure if that would work,” Gehsek and Hegwous said in unison, but Hegwous’ choppy accent made them distinct.
“Perhaps enough together might,” Hegwous conceded.
“Someone so old should’ve had their throat fit our language by now.” Rucidaja poked Hegwous again. “Now, did we come here to chat or is there a war going on? The temple’s running fine if you’re worried. Got enough food, enough donations. The refugees we took in are willing to work twice as hard for half as little food. Things are tight but they’re progressing.”
“I fear we may have conflict soon,” Hegwous said. He watched Aarushi, narrowing his eyes as she made her way through the mantra with practiced ease. Without a misstep.
“Then let us know which spirits to bring the Light to and we’ll show them how powerful it is,” Rucidaja declared.
Hegwous didn’t respond. He fingered his earring and rested his head on his hand at the same time.
“I don’t think it will be any spirits this time.” Gehsek tapped his jeweled sword.
The sun priestess furrowed her brow. “So, the whispers weren't only whispers? You want my support if there’s a coup?”
Hegwous and Gehsek shared a chuckle at how fast ideas spread around the Keep.
“Unfortunately, it appears so.” Hegwous shrugged nonchalantly, turning back to the conversation.
“Bah!” Rucidaja slammed her mouth shut, but no one in the temple seemed to notice as the mantra went on. “Fools. Thinking a Maharaj makes a dumb mistake and that means he should die.”
Hegwous smiled at being called such. “As though they do not.”
“Exactly. I’ve done stupid things, you have, shiny there has, Aarushi there, her father, his mother, they all made mistakes even when you weren’t telling them what to do. You brought the Light the glory it needed to show the northerners and their spirits who is greater. Just like the old stories about the first war with the spirits. Don’t want them getting uppity again. You made my ascetics praise the Light more than ever.” She put her hands on her hips and frowned. “Don’t know why things went wrong with the scorching. Ain’t gonna lie and say you didn’t make a mistake. Still, want me to go in there, tell them idiots to shut their mouths? They’ll listen to me, got the Light on my side.” Rucidaja raised her hand as if to summon a ball of light, but nothing materialized, and she tucked her arms again, nonplussed.
Hegwous nodded. “That is good to hear. But not yet. I shall inform you when I have need of your services. Most likely they will need to be dealt with but for now we must address another incoming threat. I cannot say much more. For now, know that we will require your ascetics to help us trap Outside creatures and bring them down.”
“Outside creatures? Kinda vague. Like Kalias?”
“They will have fangs, yes.”
“Ah well, regardless. Of course. Give the word and I’ll get us there. Now, if you mind, Lord Hegwous,” Rucidaja ran her hand down the musty brick wall, sending the thick coating of dust sprinkling to the floor like rain. “I’m gonna see if there are any other of these doors. At night of course, secret for a reason, yeah?”
“Keep the information to yourself for now. Of that and our meeting. We will inform you of when to pick your ascetics.” Hegwous bundled his cloak and turned to the door, solid wood with 3 bronze bars running up its height.
“Guru.” Gehsek paused and narrowed his eyes. “Why did you become one of us?”
“Eh? What’d you say?” Rucidaja stopped inspecting the tapestry.
“Why did you allow us to turn you into a gwomoni? You’re an ascetic of the Light. We can’t even walk under the Light itself as it crosses the sky.”
She shrugged. “Probably the same reason you did. Seems like none of us would want to. But we all wanna live longer. Maybe you wanted the power. Part of my pilgrimage was into that mountain temple near the north. The one that had some weird happenings there, you know the one.”
“I do.” Gehsek nodded as Hegwous listened, intrigued himself.
“Well, the Guru there had me go down into the caves. I had to go in the top and out the bottom. No help, only whatever I brought with me. Couldn’t turn back. Took me three straight days, evidently. So many twists and turns. I lost track of time, didn’t sleep a wink, ran out of all my food and water. And I ran out of my own Light too. It drains more than you’d think. You ever use it? Nah, didn’t think so. Took me a while to even get good enough to even make an orb. I had to just follow some of the glowing mushrooms they had in there. They don’t last long once you pluck them. I almost died. But what the Guru told me after I eventually found the end stuck with me. ‘If we can’t bear the monsoon, we don’t deserve the Light behind its clouds.’ He tells me the Light’s in us. Even in the darkest cave there were those mushrooms with light. If we can’t use it, we gotta figure out how to make it work. We gotta put in the work because in all of us it could be there, we just haven’t gotten down to it yet. Some in you, in our Lord here, and me. Once we don’t have it, we realize how much we’ve already got. Now that I don’t have it at all, I’m stronger than I’ve ever been.”
“Don’t you think that shows its weakness instead?” Gehsek asked without a hint of malice, purely curious.
“Didn’t you hear my story at all? Besides,” she pointed back to the tapestry that obscured them showing the monks pushing the spirits into the jungle, “you all saw how strong it is. Now the ascetics here all don’t care I only come out at night, wearing robes that cover me fully. It fits what I teach them that even when we think we don’t have the Light, it’s hiding somewhere. Even if it’s just me, Hegwous, I’ll help.”
Rucidaja bowed to Hegwous who returned one of his own, even deeper. Gehsek joined pressing his fists together, then turned the mechanism at the center of the door which brought the bars out of the walls to open the it. They slid out silently. The two guards watching the hall stepped aside and bowed to all three of them. With a nod from Gehsek, they departed to switch with the coming night-shift. As easily as the door opened inside it slid shut, its bricks nestling perfectly back into place concealing the tunnel once again.
“An ally,” Hegwous declared. His smile made Gehsek chuckle.
The sun hadn’t set so the day shift servants were still finishing up their daily duties. They fussed with carpets, watering potted plants, or emptying flytraps. Many of the Keep’s windows were shuttered closed during the day to block out the heat and open at night to let in the cool.
Hegwous stopped and waited at the door that led back into the Keep from the temple.
“Hegwous?” Gehsek asked.
“Just a moment, Gehsek. Please.”
Inside the temple, the service had ended and the crowds were finishing their own offerings or prostrating to their Maharaj. Aarushi Aabha turned at the exit and bowed with guards to either side, her hands washed clean in the pit so none of her offering to the Light was wasted. Her luscious hair covered her face as the guards opened the door for her. She remained bowed at the hip and walked back, the simple but perfectly painted yellow circle split evenly down the middle on both sides of the door.
“Aarushi,” Hegwous said, stepping to the side as the Maharaj nearly bumped into him.
As she straightened, Gehsek dismissed the guards with a nod.
Aarushi methodically turned her head in the direction of the voice. She focused on Hegwous, as if unsure he was there or not, until he lifted his hair and fully revealed the gem that was sagging his ear. The shadow inside swirled hypnotically, rapidly, soon smashing against the sides of the gem like a caged animal. Aarushi couldn’t look away, she didn’t lull as she did looking at Dhanur’s bow, but lowered her jaw as if in disbelief. She released a big breath and looked around.
“Aarushi,” Hegwous repeated.
“Yes, Lord Hegwous?” she asked blankly.
“You had a very strong service today.”
“Thank you, Lord Hegwous.”
“You have to help the people now. Go to the throne room and help your people.”
With a stiff turn, Aarushi meandered down the hall to the throne to receive the pleas of her people.
“The guards there at least can be trusted,” Gehsek said, watching her stumble over nothing but her own feet. “A few of Doivi and Hoika’s personal entourage had covered their sigils and passed off for our own, but as far as I can tell that has been rooted out.”
“And how far can you tell?” Hegwous sighed.
“Reasonably. The generals and warriors are less angry than the governors, Lord Hegwous.” He patted the Lord’s shoulder and motioned towards the kitchen.
“Gehsek, I cannot, all the cliques…”
“I have ordered for your drink to be in the meeting hall. A few of my best generals are waiting there to speak with us. I know we will find allies there.”
Hegwous nodded, slumping even further despite his comrade’s reassurance. The few attendees he met with before Rucidaja were contentious, yet again demanding recompense almost as soon as he entered. Only one or two of the far southern houses even offered pleasantries anymore. They had been spared most of the destruction, but often felt as far removed from the rest of the plateau as the north. Now that the Capital’s lands endured the increase of Outside monsters, much like the lands that bordered the old Rivers and Valley had for centuries, the far southern houses preened at the new morbid thing they had in common. Hegwous hadn’t expected much support from them regardless, being beset so often, but figured it was worth a try.
“Have you found any other allies yet, Gehsek?” Hegwous asked.
“My own house grows rich from our import taxes. I say it is high-time we put that money back to use. Our lands are profitable enough now and the families agree they can spare resources. Their builders are ingenious and strong. The swamps swallow anyone who cannot adapt their home on a moment’s notice. Their insight will useful be as we sure up the walls.” Gehsek procured a small tablet from a pouch on his belt. “A record keeper has given me the locations of all tablets regarding the wall’s construction. I will hand it to the servants after we meet so they may send all to your quarters.”
“Thank you, Gehsek.” Hegwous nodded. “I have avoided the governors most speak of in the whispers, Hoika, Doivi, even Traanla, but house Brthli seems receptive.”
“That is…” Hegwous gave Gehsek a moment to remember. “Vitroi’s, yes? You’re going to trust that toad?”
“His house uses a turtle, defendable, slow, and long lived. It moves farther in its life than a shorter lived tiger. Vitroi has embodied this since we let him become like us. I think he wants to live and is playing both sides. I would not be surprised if he has spoken with Doivi and given her noncommittal but intrigued words. What of your warriors, Gehsek?”
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“If they were as angry as the others, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. They’d have already drawn swords and put Malik or someone else in charge. Some still believe Deiweb a spirit but they see him through a warrior’s eyes, an abhorrent enemy to be vanquished. Some don’t blame us for appeasing him and simply want to die fighting him. The older generals want to finish Janelsa off now that they know she survived, so to speak. To them, the war with the north could have been won if we simply pressed on, so it is a balance. Some generals blame you for summoning Deiweb while others do not and thinking you’re simply waiting for the right time to strike it down. But many are now passing the tale through the ranks of the Gwomon messenger who-” He clenched his jaw, but continued professionally. “I feel if we let them know these are new foes to whom we must only bow for a moment to instill false security before we strike, they will listen. The generals I have gathered are the most likely to. But I have also called Malik, to show him he is outnumbered.”
A mouse squealed Gehsek stepped on its tail. He kicked and drew his sword as if to huck it at the thing, but Hegwous deftly slipped one of their fly traps into his other hand. Gehsek almost flung it.
“Have we made rat traps like that yet?” Hegwous asked with a coy smile.
Gehsek bounced it in his hand. “I think they’re called cats.”
Further down the hall the mouse scurried under a rug and seemed to disappear under it, which drew Hegwous’ attention, until Gehsek cleared his throat.
With silent steps they slid along the carpets. Gehsek turned to each warrior they passed, marking their reactions, if they bowed too little or too much, if they took a moment to respond or exchanged a look with anyone around them first. Even those whose faces he couldn’t quite distinguish through their helmets gave him some information on their general morale. Most gave the prerequisite bows or moved aside, but enough twitched their lips or struggled to keep their brows from furrowing as they did. Gehsek put a comforting hand on Hegwous’ back when they were alone, but he didn’t notice.
Hegwous was slowly rearing up, his shoulders fully pronounced. He controlled his breathing with measured breaths as they rounded the final corner. Tension radiated from him, like fear from a man preparing to charge the enemy line. But the smell of incense leaked through the halls. Both men caught and deduced the scent’s origin, the meeting hall. It flowed through Hegwous, releasing some of the tension naturally.
‘A welcome,’ he thought with a smile.
At the meeting hall’s door, Hegwous stopped Gehsek from entering first and strode in. A small gust of wind flew through the open wall window, past the banister the Lord had broken when Janurana first arrived in the Capital. Each of the four generals silenced their conversations or turned from looking out over the city graying in the light of early sunset.
Hegwous stood up straight, his cloak now hanging from his thinner shoulders rather than enveloping him like a substantiated shadow.
“Generals.” Lord Hegwous bowed.
The generals were taken aback, having not seen Hegwous’ cloak act as naturally as it did since his first conquest. Regardless, they all reciprocated the bows. Gehsek hid his displeasure, having wanted to see their reactions unspoiled, but Hegwous was happy that he had thrown them all off guard before any negotiations. The Lord strode past the banister chips no one had gotten around to cleaning up yet in the chaos of the past few days and took his seat at the end of the table. Gehsek slotted in behind his right side as he always did.
“I’m glad to see you’ve all shown up. Has your commander given you ample explanation on this meeting’s purpose?” Hegwous crossed his hands, inhaling deeply from the pot of incense on the table.
“Enough. You want us to declare loyalty. That’s it, isn’t it?” General Viratun crossed her arms. She pursed her half northern lips.
“I suppose that is the short story of it.” Hegwous shrugged. “There are whispers in the Keep of disloyalty. If you haven’t heard of them you will soon, best it be from your Lord. They despair against our oppression by that creature from the throne room.”
“And you let all that happen!” Malik leaned forward, firmly putting his hands on the table.
“You will air your grievances if you must. But let me finish.” Hegwous blinked slowly as he turned only his eyes to the general.
Malik balked. “You asked us if we knew what was happening here.”
“I’m explaining it for those that don’t. Now, that thing is but one of the challenges we face. The north still remains intact, the Gwomon will soon arrive.”
A rumble rattled through the generals.
“I am just as disgusted by how I had to act as you,” Gehsek said, shifting his position behind Hegwous. “I took no pleasure in needing to pretend so that the Gwomon may get inside our walls.”
“Pretend?” General Seresthin scoffed. She rolled her sharp eyes and leaned forward. “And I assume you’re pretending to send warriors up and down the south and pretending to prepare this city?”
“They are necessary diversions to ensure that the Gwomon arrive safely so they may be slaughtered easily and correctly, lest we allow a chance for escape,” Hegwous spoke bluntly.
The generals murmured louder, scoffing, rattling, balking, shaking their heads.
“You want us to declare loyalty or not?” Viratun shrugged and shook her head in confusion.
“I thought you had good relations with the Gwomon.” Seresthin cocked her head.
Malik looked back and forth, face placid and Gehsek noticed.
General Sarya drummed her fingers on her shield that she had placed on the table, round and dented, but shining. “Excuse me, but if you wished them dead, why not let them die on their trek here? Why give them protection?”
“If we all traveled the Outside, would we die?” Hegwous asked, blinking once.
“Perhaps one of us,” Gehsek said, shooting one look to Malik for just long enough for him to notice.
“Are you—” Malik put his hands on the table again but Hegwous continued.
“Perhaps two of us, the second would most likely turn up alive later. We cannot trust the Outside to kill the Gwomon.”
“Wait, you plan on killing the Gwomon? Are you throwing out nonsense?” Viratun asked. She put a hand on her hip. “Or are you seeing if we’ll believe it?”
“A little of both, I suppose.” Hegwous shrugged.
“I’ve stuck by you this long, Lord Hegwous.” Seresthin bowed. “I will not abandon you now, whatever the task is. Tell me and it shall be done.”
“This whole time you were planning on killing the Gwomon and only now that we’re hearing rumors of sedition you tell us your plan?” Sarya leaned on her shield and put her fist in front of her face to chew on it.
“Exactly!” Malik jumped back in. “You bow to that Gwomon that we haven’t even seen until recently, then that thing that scorched the plateau, then Janelsa is still alive?? You can’t expect us to—”
“Wait, so it really wasn’t a spirit?” Viratun stepped back.
“How do we know that thing wasn’t lying?” Sarya asked.
Hegwous laboriously rose and the room grew quiet. As he did with Gehsek, he stood up fully, shoulders back, looking down at the baffled generals before him. Malik and Seresthin both bowed, Malik later. The younger generals had to process what they were seeing first, having never witnessed their Lord’s true height.
“I have told you many conflicting stories, I have kept the truth to myself and Gehsek, but only for necessity. I cannot have every facet of my plan available to all. Our late spy master could have attested to such. One slip and any plan may be the enemy’s by nightfall. We cannot allow such designs to be common knowledge. For that, I am sorry.” Hegwous bowed, but none of his generals noticed as they refused to look up. “Now that the time for action is upon us, I ask for you to look back on the victories we have had, the lessons we have learned, and tap into the anger you have for what was done to us. I ask for your support, your spears, axes, shields, swords, to be mine once again so that the enemies of our lands shall be defeated.”
“I am sure they will join you, Lord Hegwous.” Ahbigah tottered in with a tray of their breakfast, perfectly balanced on her bony arm. There was barely a single thread of muscle clinging to her bones. Despite her age, she still maintained the strength of a gwomoni.
Hegwous shot a look back to Gehsek.
“You’re late, Ahbigah,” the commander said.
“Am I?” She slid the tray onto the table, reaching up like a child until Viratun helped her. “Thank you. I appreciate that. The incense is a little low. Allow me.” She procured a thick bundle from inside her robes.
“I think it’s enough already,” Seresthin said.
“Nonsense, the Lord of the Keep deserves to smell something pleasant. A little help again, please?” She waved the sticks around, mainly towards Malik who happily sparked them with a piece of flint from his belt. “Thank you. Now, all of you, enjoy.”
As slowly as she entered, she tottered off again. Hegwous and Gehsek turned to each other, sharing a quick but confused look. Hegwous nodded towards her and raised his brows. The commander understood perfectly and shook his head to say he had not spoken with her yet about Hegwous’ sacrifice. Each of the generals had taken their cup, waiting for the Lord to take the first drink.
But Hegwous cleared his throat instead.
“No, you’re right. This is too much.” Viratun said to Seresthin as she coughed, waving the incense away. Despite the open wall window it was starting to sting their eyes. She put the pot outside.
“Can we eat?” Malik asked with as controlled a voice as he could.
Hegwous shook his head with a smile. “Of course, it is always better to negotiate drunk.” He raised his cup to have his first real meal in days.
Gehsek nodded in approval. Despite bringing his Lord meal after meal, all he ever heard in return was “Oh, right” as Hegwous went back to reading or meeting with other nobles. He went to reach for his.
Then he noticed Malik wasn’t raising his cup.
Then caught the smell coming from their drinks.
Gehsek was too late. Before he could smash the blood from his Lord’s hands, Hegwous had already taken a gulp. The fire of garlic poisoned blood raked through him. Lord Hegwous collapsed, ripping at his boiling cheeks and melting fangs as if that would tear the agony from his head. It succeeded in tearing his flesh apart even more, and in pouring the blood out of him before it entered his body. Seresthin, Viratun, and Sarya timed their drinks with the Lord’s and they fared no better. Sarya had buried her fingers into the table, anchoring her, but all writhed in agony as their insides evaporated at the mere touch of the poison blood.
“Hegwous! Hegwous!” Gehsek cried uselessly, cradling his Lord to try to stop him from harming himself further.
Gehsek leapt to the side, dragging his Lord with him. They just barely dodged the drink Malik had thrown at them, but some of the blood still soaked into Hegwous’s cloak.
Malik was on them just as quickly, ax bared. Gehsek drew his blade and caught the downward slash with ease. For a second the two warriors caught eyes, then wordlessly tightened their lips. Gehsek pushed forward, slamming his fist into Malik’s stomach. The general hopped back, over Seresthin who grabbed at him with her last ounce of strength. He stumbled, then kicked her up at Gehsek who leapt forward. As Gehsek gently, yet firmly, pushed her off him, the meeting table came flying through the air. Gehsek smashed it aside as if it were a simple branch, sending it cascading out the window and crashing through another further into the Keep.
Malik wasn’t behind it.
Gehsek froze except for his eyes, his ears were wide open and he sniffed wildly. “Fight me like a warrior, scout!”
The incense pot flew at Gehsek from around the door’s corner. He smashed it away again and blocked Malik’s upward slash. This time Malik tried pushing, then dodged to the side when Gehsek kicked to send him back. As he dodged, Malik swung at his Commander’s side. Gehsek barely regained his foot enough to catch Malik’s ax and block again.
Again, Malik went for the door. Gehsek kicked Sarya’s shield at his opponent, who ducked and leapt out of view. The Commander looked back, saw Hegwous was still moving, and pursued the enemy.
As the sounds of battle grew fainter with the warriors moving away from the meeting room, Doivi let out a breath. As she did, her cover faded away. Shadows rolled off her, Hoika, and Traanla in waves and snaked along the ground into any crevice in the room. They strolled out of the corner now fully visible.
“That brute, he could have hit us with those projectiles of his.” Traanla readjusted her sleeves.
“A regular dhanur,” Doivi chuckled. The three of them slipped over the still twitching bodies of the generals. None of them had the energy to reach out like Seresthin did before. When Hoika came up to them, he knelt and pulled one of five wooden stakes from his belt, then undid their armor.
“I know, I know, it’s a bit dramatic,” Doivi said as she strolled up to Hegwous. “But I think it makes more of a statement than just taking off your head.”
The Lord was a bloody mess. He had tried to tear off his coat, but when his fingers touched the garlic tinged blood the flesh melted from his hands. His bone cheek and jaw bones poked out from under his boiled face that was once his proud, if gaunt, chin. His cheeks were only tendrils connected to the remains of his cheek bones.
“A shame. He did have a handsome face,” Trannla tutted as Hoika plunged a stake into Viratun’s heart.
“At least here the common people will believe you really were a gwomoni. Not that they would have needed any convincing. I’d ask if you have any last words but…” Doivi slid to the side as Hoika pulled the second to last stake from his belt.
Hegwous’ eyes, red with blood, mechanically looked up at his assassin. Their gazes locked, and Hoika shuddered but plunged the final strike down.
Hegwous caught it.
“Oh, what a man.” Doivi nodded as she looked to Traanla, who smirked in agreement. “You’re dying well, Hegwous.”
But her smile faded as a vein on Hoika’s forehead bulged. He shook and pressed with all his might, but Hegwous’ grip was stable. The Lord of the Keep didn’t even blink as he slowly rose, strips of flesh hanging from his head, the his cloak billowing underneath him as if being blown about by the wind. He continued to rise, and rise, looming over Hoika whose knees buckled. Doivi sputtered for something to say as Traanla took a step back, then ran for the door.
“Malik!” she screamed, but Hegwous simply plucked a single hair from his head and let it fall to the ground. Shadows coalesced.
In a burst that sent Doivi back, a beast in the shape of a horse, pitch-black and topaz eyed rampaged toward the fleeing governor. It charged forward like a bull, casting Traanla through the air and out of the meeting room with its near man sized head. She slammed into the wall like a leaf in a monsoon wind, her bones crunching as loud as the shattering bricks of the door frame. The horse, thicker with muscle than should be possible, broke through the door frame as if it weren’t even there, sending shards of it scattering in all directions. The bits of skin it lost slithered back to where it had fallen off. Before Governor Traanla had even shaken the stars from her eyes, the horse’s hooves crashed into her skull.
Hoika screamed as Hegwous’ grip swapped from the stake to the governor’s arm. His bones snapped like twigs under the Lord’s monstrous grip. Hegwous sunk his fingers into Hoika’s chest and grabbed his ribs like a handle, and tore Hoika’s arm from its socket, then tossed it out the window. Hoika couldn’t do more than choke with shock and agony. Hegwous grabbed another rib, and tore open his chest, then raked his hand down the would-be usurper's organs. For good measure, he tore off his head as well.
Despite their strength, Hoika and Traanla were little more than piles of flesh. Horse hooves still squelched angrily in the hallway where Traanla met her end. Hewous stared at Hoika’s remains, before something else grabbed his attention. Doivi shrieked with every ounce of her strength, but fear froze her in place. Faster than lightning, Hegwous was in front of her. His cloak billowed upwards, enveloping them both as he leaned forward to loom over her. A drop of blood ran down a strip of his flesh and landed on her open eye. It didn’t even register. She shook, his cloak growing, enveloping them both, soon only his head was visible in a world of pure darkness. She wanted to scream again, but her voice had seized up. Soon, his hand rose from nothing. She shuttered, yelped as it touched her forehead, and was powerless as the gem on Hegwous’ ear shined.
Gehsek was struggling to get to Malik, who, unlike a scout, stood behind a shield wall. Instead, he bobbed and weaved, using a nearby shutter as a shield to block incoming arrows. Warriors baring the Rhino of Hoika’s house had joined the general, moving forward in unison. Despite Gehsek’s strength, he had to be cautious. They had tipped their arrows and spears with garlic, so a single careless mistake would mean death. It had been centuries since he last felt so vulnerable.
Then, a squad of Keep guards turned the corner, having found the disturbance. They lowered their own spears and shields and called for their commander to fall behind their wall. But they were outnumbered. The wall of Hoika’s men was at least twelve warriors with five dhanurs behind them. As Gehsek leapt back, they unleashed as many arrows as they could, but the commander was able to tuck himself behind his shield in the air and get behind his loyal Keep guards.
“They’re on the run! March them down!” Malik declared, turning to finally address the screams coming from the meeting room as his warriors finished Gehsek off.
When he turned, he was met with a javelin to the face.
From right to left, each of the warriors heads was impaled as quickly as one looks side to side. The missiles were pure shadow, black as ink, a silhouette from any angle. Loyal Keep warriors stepped back as Hoika’s men and Malik himself hit the ground, revealing Hegwous sitting proud on his horse. The Keep’s ceiling was only just tall enough to accommodate the beast and Hegwous’ proud posture. It grunted, stamped, and longed to charge forward, but at a single pat from Hegwous, it instantly calmed.
He whipped his hand and the magazine of javelins above it faded like smoke. Methodically, he lowered his arm, swung his leg over the simple blanket saddle, and landed perfectly upright on the floor, cloak no longer billowing. He turned to his warriors, all of whom were frozen at the abominable horror that was jaw, then he collapsed.