Sahshir had spent the last few days gathering information. He learned of people who had been hurt. He found that almost all of them were merchants who needed to cooperate. The ordinary people were largely left in peace.

Asim was quite popular among them. Several of whom Asim had ruined had seen their wealth given to the poor. He saw now why Tuor had forbidden him from killing Asim. It would be a bad start.

Now, he was meditating.

He often did so when he could not sleep and had been meditating from the late hours. Now, the hours had become early, and he was still sitting in his room, his eyes shut and his hands clenched.

He wondered how many weary travelers this shrine of Baltoth had gotten. There are none today, but Sahshir remembers when he was a boy. In those days, Aresh had not been supplanted by Tuor. Often, far-off merchants would shelter here if they had no outside connections.

To harm a guest in Baltoth's house was an unforgivable crime. For if travelers could not be safe in the house of the gods, where could they be safe?

And yet he felt ill at ease.

He sensed them now, gathering outside the gates of the shrine. Armed men, ready for war. They were many, and their life force belonged to demanding men. Men who had killed before and would again. Warriors.

But they did not desire blood. Or at least not a battle.

"Sahshir, there is a problem," said Kushina.

Sahshir arose, startled, hand falling to his sword as he saw her. Somehow, she had slipped beneath his perceptions like always. How did she do that? "What is it?"

"Asim has learned of your presence somehow," said Kushina. "His troops are outside the shrine as we speak."

"I am aware," said Sahshir.

"And you're still here?" asked Kushina in surprise.

Sahshir raised his sword. "I will defeat Asim and his men singlehanded should they enter this place."

Kushina sighed. "You're confidence inspires me. But I'd rather have a better plan than that."

"Very well," said Sahshir. "I will enter the palace and kill Asim and his extended family."

"Do you have another better plan?" asked Kushina.

"No," admitted Sahshir. He was forbidden from killing Asim. But surely Tuor would understand if it was him or Sahshir.

"Priestess Kushina!" came a call. "We know you are within. Come out and speak to us at once."

Kushina grasped her staff from the wall and walked out. Sahshir trailed behind in the shadows. He watched from the doorway as Kushina approached the gates. In front of them stood Asim, a tall and scarred man. He had narrow eyes that marked the blood of Namina that flowed through him, and his skin was lighter. In his hand was a sheathed sword, a scimitar rather than a katana. A symbol of his contempt for the ways of Namina.

"Lord Asim, you have surrounded a shrine of Baltoth," said Kushina. "What is the meaning of this?"

"The meaning is simple," said Asim. "You are harboring my enemies. I will not intrude on sacred ground. But I will not let you protect threats to my dominion."

"Abdul Sahshir is first in the line of succession," said Kushina. "Your nephew by blood. You are granted only the position of regent. Is this treason?"

"Sahshir is nothing more than a boy," said Asim. "One whose curse will lead to a line of plague. I will not see one of his kind leading our armies. What example could that set?"

Sahshir flinched at the mention. His hand was on his sword, but he did not draw it. Still waiting.

"You do not know that," said Kushina. "And you have no right to usurp him."

"In the days of my father, we did not concern ourselves with such technicalities," said Asim proudly. "The leader was the strongest of all the warriors. The soldier with the most cunning.

"Tuor has sought to corrupt this process.

"I claim my status as king by my right of victory in battle and leadership in war."

"Are you then prepared to defy the will of Baltoth?" asked Kushina.

"I have done nothing of the sort," said Asim. "We shall not intrude in his domain. But so long as that boy remains within this shrine, my men will remain without. And there is another matter." He motioned. "Bring forward the girl."

Schzara was dragged forward. She looked like she had been crying. But now she was only looking terrified. "Sister, I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Silence!" said Asim.

Kushina's grip on her staff tightened. "You had the best account for your actions, Regent Asim."

"You have until noon tomorrow to give the boy up to me," said Asim. "Fail to do so, and I will crucify the girl on a hill. Make your choice."

Kushina's eyes narrowed. "I certainly will."

Then she turned and walked back to the shrine before shutting the door. She looked at him. "Alright, Sahshir, there is a change of plans. Go ahead and murder everyone in Asim's palace; I don't care."

"Thank you," said Sahshir.

He unsheathed his sword and began to meditate with it over his knees. He waited as the life forces of those in the camp grew gradually complacent. Then, when they were used to the silence, he arose and slipped out of one of the windows.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Crawling to the top of the wall, he looked down upon the lookouts.

"So, did you hear about what happened to that merchant in the square, Akas?" one asked. "Had his wares destroyed? Why did King Asim order that done?"

"He questioned Asim's legitimacy," said Akas. "And anyway, he was a merchant. Scum who make their living on others' labors. Bean counters and cheats the lot of them, right, Sorsuk?" Sorsuk remained silent, and this frustrated Akas. "Warriors earn our keep on the battlefield. Farmers toil on the earth to raise crops. But merchants just play the role of the middleman. They snatch bread from people's mouths."

"I wonder how we'd do if all the merchants disappeared?" said Sorsuk.

"Better," said Akas.

"Really?" asked Sorsuk doubtfully. "Didn't you go to the bazaar to buy a seashell necklace for your wife yesterday? Unfortunately, they didn't make them here."

"Shut up," said the other.

Sahshir launched himself from the wall and landed behind them. They turned to him, readying their spears. "Abdul Sahshir-"

Drawing his sword, he raked it across both their throats. Both their limp forms fell to the ground. Five other men charged at him, blades in hand. He ducked under one and slashed him through the stomach before rolling between others. With two more strokes, he downed another two. Finally, he stabbed his blade back at someone he sensed behind.

Sahshir felt it drive through another guard's chest. Drawing out the blade, he turned to parry a flurry of strokes. Then, feeling something sharp pass his cheek, Sahshir flipped backward. On they came, from both sides. Hooking his foot under a spear, Sahshir kicked it into the air and caught it, even as he sheathed his blade.

Spinning it around, he fended off those who came at him with rapid strikes, returning to the wall. Finally, he was hemmed in. All stabbed at him, but he leaped into the air and landed on the wall before being kicked off. As he landed, he drew his sword and began a flurry of strikes.

Then he halted, turned, and walked away toward the palace. As he sheathed his blade, he sensed the guards falling to the ground, no longer a threat.

Sahshir quickly scaled up the walls and past the sight of the guards. He did not want to alert his enemies to his presence. Unfortunately, it was only a matter of time before they learned what had happened at the shrine.

Still, where was Schzara? He had not seen her among the prisoners?

Either way, he knew this palace like the back of his hand. He quickly slipped into the inner rooms in secret ways known only to their family. The red and gold walls were comforting to walk amongst again. When he had left, they had seen more threatening anything.

But now, he was the most dangerous thing within these walls.

Soon, he made his way onto a balcony. Below, he saw a beautiful courtyard of green, where he and Kushina had played as children. There had been another with them in those days.

And there he was. Sahshir's cousin, Sushaki, was as handsome as ever, with a slim frame and well-muscled muscles. Sahshir saw that he had grown out his wavy white hair a great deal since last they had met. He'd always been more handsome than Sahshir, even before the curse took hold.

But with Sushaki was Asim himself. They were arguing. "Father, this is not wise. Threatening a Priestess of Baltoth could be called heresy. The Western Kalthakians may use it as a pretext."

"We've been over this, Sushaki," said Asim. "The girl is not a priestess. Our actions are not heresy. And if Western Kalthak decides to invade, I will rename their land the Western Wastes. I've beaten them before."

"But what about these merchants you've ruined?" asked Sushaki. "They are not powerless. On the contrary, they may well support Sahshir against us, and what we do here could be a rallying point."

Until now, Sahshir had used the blades wielded by Tuor's disciplines in training. Not one had died by his hand. Now, he drew the Sword of Order. First, blood would be whet upon it.

"The merchants will thank Baltoth they are spared and serve the warriors," said Asim.

"Will they?" asked Sushaki, "Money has more power than you think. It was made by Coinfurth, and he is a god in his own right."

Sahshir sprang from the balcony, lifting his sword toward Asim's head. Even as he did, Asim drew his blade and caught the stroke while turning to face him. For a moment, they pitted their strength against each other. "No. They will not."

Asim shoved him back and took a stance. "...You, how did you get past the guards?"

"I have learned much in the service of Tuor," said Sahshir. "You will learn that by my blade."

"The Sword of Order belongs to no man," said Asim. "It is merely entrusted to the worthy. Or the unworthy, as the case may be." He motioned, and out of the shadows emerged dozens of warriors clad in heavy armor. These men were elites. "No matter. Guards, the ones to kill this fool, will be greatly rewarded. Come, son."

He and Sushaki turned and made their way out as the guards closed ranks behind them.

"Face me, Asim," said Sahshir.

But Asim said nothing. And then he was gone.

For a long moment, Sahshir remained silent. Finally, he took a stance, feeling the trickle of blood down the side of his face. He licked his lips. Now was the time.

Then, the guards surged forward.

A storm of blades came at him, but the Sword of Order flashed. They recoiled at the light, and Sahshir drew his other sword. Cleaving through one after another without death, he kept the light in his enemies' eyes.

Even so, they parried and thrust, and he found himself hard-pressed to defeat them. Still, at least now, he was only facing them from one direction. He ducked around the supports of the balcony, and a sword sank into it. Coming around, he swung the Sword of Order to shatter an enemy's blade, then struck him down. Another fell to him, then another.

He found himself filled with a strange power he could not understand.

Nothing could stop him.

And soon, all were defeated. He sensed Asim in the next room. And as he did, the light of the sword faded. Sliding the door aside, he found Asim and Sushaki kneeling in a long hall. The walls were lined with all manner of weapons. Here, Sahshir and Sushaki had trained many times. Asim had his blade before him on his knees. "So, you've finally arrived, have you? You surprise me. I thought you would have keeled over dead some time ago. Perhaps you are worthy of my blade. Leper Prince."

Then he sprang into action. Sahshir threw aside his second blade and met Asim with the Sword of Order. They dueled back and forth, and Sahshir found himself being driven back. Asim was skilled, winning a hundred battles, and Sahshir could hardly keep up.

Asim turned Sahshir's blade and brought a leg around. Sahshir spun away and hit a wall. He narrowly ducked in time to avoid being beheaded. Before he could counterattack, Asim was leaping back, taking a stance.

"I confess, I had doubts about assassinating my family by stealth," said Asim. "I'm pleased you've allowed me to do it personally."

"Traitor," said Sahshir simply.

He surged forward and forced Asim back with a flurry of strokes. But all too soon, Asim halted his advance and drove him back. Then, spinning his blade, Asim paused some feet away. "Traitor?

"What have I betrayed? The legacy of my brother? A man who has turned a race of warriors into farmers and thieves?"

"It was by the will of Baltoth," said Sahshir, taking a stance.

"Baltoth? The Lord of Order!" scoffed Asim. "You speak as though he was worshipped by our most distant ancestors! He is but a visitor in our domain! Kalthak shall choose its own gods!"

"He delivered us from the whispers of Safara," said Sahshir. "He brought green to the lands of Kalthak once again. Thus was order brought from the chaos."

"Green and order?" scoffed Asim. "What is a land of grass and plenty but an excuse for the race to become fat and weak. Weak as the Medi of the West! We are Kalthakian! Our sires were born of blood and death! We survived where the sorcerers of old were consumed by their hubris!"

"And yet we are also of the blood of Namina, that ancient civilization," said Sahshir. "When their land was destroyed, our people mixed and became one."

"A corruption we have yet to rid ourselves of," said Asim as they began to circle one another. "It was Namina who taught us sorcery! Namina, who sewed the seeds of destruction! Seeds that saw the land blighted and our people scattered!"

"What is a land of grass and plenty but an excuse for the race to become fat and weak?" asked Sahshir.

"You throw my own words back at me," scoffed Asim. "Do you comprehend them?"

"I understand more than you know," said Sahshir. "What purpose does the warrior caste have save to defend? To ensure that the farmer may plow his fields in peace? To ensure the merchant may sell his wares without fear of thugs destroying them? To ensure the priests may commune with the gods without defending against sacrilege?"

"We were made to fight and conquer!" said Asim. "To stand triumphant in the darkness of the world!"

"We were made to defend and protect," said Sahshir. "You speak of the virtues of warriors. Yet you do not understand the virtues of other castes."

"And do you?" asked Asim.

"No," said Sahshir. "But I am aware of them. Aware of my own ignorance. And I will learn. Are you?"

Asim smiled. "...Perhaps, perhaps not. You seem to be more your father's son than you are a leper. I congratulate you on that, at least."

The doors were flung open, and guards charged in, but Asim raised a hand. "No, let the boy have his chance. Let us finish this."

Sahshir could kill him. He could. With the Sword of Order, he could overpower Asim's guard. Or could he? No, the pass would claim both their lives at best. Then, his eyes focused on his other blade.

The two charged at each other. As they neared, Sahshir dropped to his knees, throwing the Sword of Order. Asim stepped away, but Sahshir snatched up his other blade and brought it around. It slashed through Asim's chest, as Asim's blade stabbed past his head. The blade caught upon his mask, and it was torn away.

Then Asim collapsed to his knees. He set a hand upon Sahshir's shoulder. "Well... done..." he gasped. "You are the stronger."

He fell backward.

Sahshir looked to the men, who drew back. He picked up the Sword of Order and gazed at his own reflection. His face was scarred and looked more like a corpse than a man. Some parts of it have almost rotted away. The disease had passed somewhat; it gnawed only intermittently now. But the scars remained. Drawing it up, he turned to them, and they fell before him, kneeling.

"My uncle is defeated but not dead," said Sahshir. "I was forbidden from slaying any of you when I came here by Tuor himself. This sword is a Ghost Sword. It has sent him to sleep as it has all those I have defeated. I now return to the shrine.

"Tomorrow, all of you who wish to prove me unworthy may come before me. I will prove upon the bodies of all who dispute my reign as King. Then, when all of them are defeated, I will be king.

"Sushaki, you will release Schzara at once. I may not be permitted to slay you, but you can survive a great deal." He felt the threat was necessary.

Sushaki nodded and stood. "Yes, Prince Sahshir, at once."

He had returned. Now, he had work to do.