Chapter 6: The Knife

  Na’Vanad struggled to care for Kagarani’s objectives while he was a slave. This period taught him that commitment, even to something small, can help one’s future plans. Wise Yashin guided him best on this notion.

  “Our men have enlisted the help of local leaders to assist in the peaceful transition of power. There are of course many who rebel, but that number has decreased significantly in the weeks since the conquest.”

  Kagarani kept an eye on Na’Vanad as Senli, a stagnating lieutenant in his army, gave the report on Katan-Bat. Something was tense about the young soldier. He wondered what it was about the mundane reports that had the boy so uptight—it was an honor to be invited to such briefings. The other lieutenants took begrudging note of his presence, some sharing glances with each other.

  Yashin had urged Kagarani to take some measures to secure Na’Vanad’s loyalty, which meant catering more towards the Shavuim in positions of leadership. Kagarani had even consented to sharper uniforms for the Shavu officers, which was a line he hadn’t been willing to cross his whole career. Why was Na’Vanad not glad about all this? Surely he should be enjoying his high rank and favor among Kagarani’s officers. Yet he seemed irritated.

  In reality, this Shavu had his mind far from the room. The topics Senli discussed had thrown his thoughts to painful places. Bardom was remembering, thinking of his mother. When his father fought off Rontisil and his armies those years prior, his mother would find him packing some nights, getting ready to join his father on the front lines—where the fighting was hardest.

  “Mama,” he’d said, “they need me.”

  She’d sat him down, and read his father’s letters to him. When food was scarce, she found ways to make him happy to hide the pain. She knew a great deal about the mind.

  Then there was his father. Abban showed him how to be a man, how to lead. He taught him the duties of a chief, for no other reason than to make his second son a good man. Atzulah emulated all those things naturally, while Bardom shrugged his shoulders at the lessons. As Bardom grew up, he shoved those teachings aside. He enjoyed women, and drinking, and wasting time on futile pleasures.

  Now, as he listened to this group of men, both slaves and free, talk about making his home docile, he remembered his father hanging. He remembered his mother dead—bloodied and raped by a savage.

  The tension in his jaw only eased when he caught Kagarani watching him.

  Hide the pain, his mother’s voice came. Be strong for us.

  He is a slave himself, Bardom thought. He is weak, and he needs me. Already he’s promoted me to his lieutenants’ council, while the other Shavuim look to me as a leader.

  Yashin sat beside him, his handler at all times. It was odd that he was legally his slave master—how could a slave own a slave? The old soldier listened astutely, asking questions when appropriate. Finally, the report ended, and all eyes turned to the general.

  “Gentlemen,” he cleared his throat. “I’m sure there are many more questions, and I have so few answers. For now, let me express my deepest gratitude for your service. Without you all, Katan-Bat would still be in the hands of heathens.”

  He’s got one more comment like that before I cut out his tongue, Bardom thought.

  “Undoubtedly, Na’Vanad’s presence must be a surprise,” Kagarani continued, prompting some glancing at him. “This brings us to our most discreet topic.” The lieutenants looked at him grimly. “It is as we’ve expected. Vakin’s three core battalions were ambushed, eviscerated in all manners of dishonorable violence. Yashin, please,”

  Yashin rose. “According to our investigative team, the men were mostly burned in piles, occurring at the same time our troops were marching. Among the ashes were some clues. Hastily done, some piles were not completely burnt, showing our investigators evidence of the murders. In Katan-Bat, assassins do not use knives, but poison darts, arrows, and occasionally the old fashioned blunt weapon. These were precise murders—necks slashed, hearts stabbed… quite a mess. Among them were several knives left behind. Here is where we found our most intriguing evidence.”

  He revealed a knife from his pouch, showing it around the table.

  “The craftsmanship is unmistakably Lekkian,” Yashin said. “The handle, contoured for a grip, is unlike anything one would find in Katan-Bat. As if that was not enough—“ he held the knife over a flame.

  The group oohed.

  He showed them the writing that emerged in blazing font, “The debt of man. Ralu’s words.”

  “We ought to gut the bastard,” growled Lord Olpaeni on the side, one of Kagarani’s vassals and his Chief Marshal. He was Yashin’s counterpart for the Lekkian men in the army, but he respected the Shavuim.

  “And there are no doubts about this evidence, Yashin?” Shai Olek asked. He was Kagarani’s cleric, who oversaw records, maps, and correspondence from command to his captains. He was one of the most respected for his intellect, taking on the administration of the occupation of Katan-Bat.

  Kagarani added, “The Great Leader himself said that this knife bore the seal of the Knights of the Realm. It seemed to many that Bardom L’Ani and his friends were involved.”

  Yashin passed the knife around. “You may note that this insignia was etched onto the base of the handle. The Knights of the Realm traditionally put their insignias on their armor and not their weapons, which makes the Lekkian craftsmanship the best clue for this knife’s origin.”

  “So the Knights of the Realm were not involved?” Senli asked.

  “No further evidence arose to support that theory, my lord,” Yashin said. “It is not feasible for a large group of foreign knights to have been in that location at that time. Unless they’d been notified by a traitor in Vakin’s ranks or a spy with all the right details. Now, if all that had happened, they would have had a very difficult time obtaining any Lekkian knives.”

  The men looked uncomfortable, but accepted Yashin’s account.

  Shai Olek crossed his arms. “This is convenient. Don’t you think so?”

  “Convenient for who?”

  “You,” Shai Olek observed. “You’re pushing us to distrust Ralu even more than we already do. You have something to gain by advancing your Shavu-Kara with this scheme against Ralu.”

  “I assure you, this is not so, my lord,” Yashin shook his head. “With Giala, Nendroghi, and Erdoegi being certain to have been in Stet-Lek, the only people who could‘ve carried out such a massacre would be us, Ralu, or the Great Leader.”

  Kagarani noted Shai Olek’s skepticism of Yashin. It was his way. He believed doubt was the best way to learn what someone truly believed.

  “I agree with Yashin,” Olpaeni said. “The Great Leader wouldn’t do something like this directly,” Olpaeni chastised Shai Olek’s skepticism. “And the timing doesn’t quite work for such a scenario, anyway.”

  “And we didn’t do this, right?” Senli asked the general. Lord Senli was another vassal to Kagarani, but he was a much lower rank than the others. His value was with the sword.

  Kagarani shook his head. “Even in my harshest disagreements with Vakin, I’d never think to do something like this.”

  “Is it not possible that there were infiltrators among Vakin’s men and they carried this out?” Bardom asked.

  The room fell quiet, until Yashin reviewed his notes. “All of Vakin’s men, minus exactly one, were counted among the dead. Either they were infiltrated by imposters who arrived as friends and tricked them, or they were ambushed. I can’t imagine the assassins would kill themselves too.”

  “And think of the number of men that would take!” Olpaeni said. “No, it is near certain that they were ambushed by a hostile force.”

  “As for the convenience of this knife?” Kagarani, who was otherwise convinced, pressed his lieutenant.

  Yashin set the knife down by Bardom and spread his hands. “I cannot discern exactly why this knife was left behind. It was the only one with Ralu’s words engraved on it. If it does not signify his involvement, then what can we know for certain?”

  The room went silent again.

  “Are we certain that the Great Leader was not directly involved?” Bardom asked. “Perhaps he sent an assassin with Ralu to leave the knife.”

  Yashin nodded. “That is plausible, but cannot be proven.”

  Kagarani sighed. “Then it’s settled—we know enough to assume that Ralu was the chief engineer of this crime. We must be smart,” Kagarani said, rising and taking the knife carefully into his hand, holding it before him. “For all intents and purposes, we have his one loose end.”

  The group looked at Na’Vanad.

  Bardom realized they figured him the expert on Vakin’s organization, and the one most intent on revenge, so he nodded. “Where was the knife found, Yashin?”

  Yashin paused, knowing his words would draw silence from the group. “Lord Vakin’s back.”

  Bardom inspected the knife in his hands as the men quietly watched him. “I shall plunge it into Aya Ralu’s heart, looking into his wretched eyes for good measure.”

  That was met with jeers, but Kagarani waved for silence. “I like your enthusiasm, Na’Vanad, but we must play by Lekkian rules. Killing your old master was a stunning trick, but it has left Ralu exposed. I now control Katan-Bat, while he stews at his estate. We have a chance now to ambush him on the campaign to the West Midlands, with refuge in Katan-Bat as an option should we need it.”

  The men leaned over the table, eager to hear the plan.

  An ambush? Bardom thought. He can’t be serious. This same man looked like a coward in front of the other lords, now he’s bold?

  “If we succeed, we can steal his artillery and his glory,” Kagarani said, “but we can’t do it while he mistrusts us. Instead, we will need you to gain his trust, Na’Vanad.”

  Now this is interesting, Bardom thought. He sounds like Yashin now. Or does Yashin sound like him?

  Kagarani set the knife down.

  “How?”

  “You will go to him this week,” Kagarani ordered, “and you will tell him you suspect that I killed Vakin and ambushed his men. The bait will be too tempting for him not to bite. Tell him war stories, praise him, take your comrades to use his whores, but do not reveal your true intentions. If he trusts you by the time we begin our campaign, then he will be willing to follow you—even into a trap.”

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  Yet you are also quick to trust me, Bardom thought, or is this a test? It must be. Should I fail, I’ll lose Kagarani’s support—then I’ll never save Adella from her misery, nor will I ever exact my revenge.

  “He’s shrewd,” Bardom said. “The moment he detects a ruse, he’ll strike against us.”

  Kagarani nodded slowly in agreement, studying Na’Vanad’s mannerisms.

  Be still, Bardom reminded himself.

  “Yashin, hold onto that knife,” Kagarani ordered. “Indeed, the ‘shrewd’ general would notice the deception if Na’Vanad took it with him. Save it for the killing blow when the time is right.”

  “When might that be?” Na’Vanad asked as Yashin stowed the blade.

  “When I say,” he replied with a hint of impatience. “Could be years before the time is right. It must have taken Ralu years of planning to kill Vakin.”

  “My lord,” one lieutenant spoke up reluctantly, casting glances at Na’Vanad uncomfortably. “Are you certain we should be assigning such sensitive matters to this Shavu?”

  “These are all trusted ears,” Kagarani announced. “All is well Rito.”

  The meeting was adjourned, while Rito kept a distasteful glare at Na’Vanad. As they left, he turned to Yashin. “What is Rito’s problem with me?”

  “Lieutenant Rito is Lekkian,” he said. “You’re an outsider to him.”

  “You’re an outsider too!”

  “Ah, but I was here before he was, tolo,” Yashin smirked. “Let it be. It doesn’t matter if he likes you.”

  “I’d prefer more allies.”

  “Shavuim don’t have allies, they have masters and fellow slaves,” Yashin opened the door to the training yard for him.

  Bardom sighed, momentarily stepping out of Na’Vanad for a moment. “He’s sending me on a dangerous mission. Ralu could kill me on the spot if he suspects that I witnessed the attack, which I didn’t, Yashin.”

  “I didn’t say it, because I didn’t want any spies to know I knew, but Vakin had a battalion that navigated around the ambush by mistake. They were hunted in the city, which is how our lead investigator was able to confirm that Ralu was involved. That’s where you escaped.”

  “Good cover story,” he said, “except that I wasn’t there! How am I supposed to describe it if I was not there?”

  Yashin laughed as they walked past the dispersing council. “You lie. Like everyone here—you lie.”

  “Are men not honest in this council, then?”

  Yashin spared a glance at the group as they dispersed. “We owe our freedom to each other, Na’Vanad. With a bond like that, no lies pass between us. At least, no more lies.”

  How hoodwinked Kagarani must be, he thought. Bardom estimated each man was hiding something from Kagarani. His own identity was a secret, a lie that could be undone with one person who knew his face.

  But no one did. Only Adella and Yashin. Because of this one, crucial lie, he likely never would return to the one place where people did recognize him. And what was left for him there? Nothing, so it meant nothing. Just past memories of a dead man. Bardom L’Ani is dead, I am Na’Vanad, Shavu-Kara.

  “We’ll get you briefed," Yashin said. “There’s no other business here." You’ll need to be silent on Ralu’s treachery. This operation must remain covert.”

  How does Yahsin act like he’s a Lekkian? He’s been a slave to them for so long, I suppose.

  * * *

  Yashin led Bardom through the Lekkian bazaar, surveying the shops as de facto patrolmen. Since they were Shavuim, they were not permitted to buy or sell in this market. For that, they would have to find the Shavu Markets, which were not given the luxury of guard patrols to protect the merchants from theft or the customers from robbery.

  It was busy that day. Kagarani’s corner of Stet-Lek had the most merchants from the other parts of the kingdom. The people in this city were well off, profiting off of the sudden wealth added from conquest. No one was starving, and trade was booming.

  “You should not speak so much in council meetings,” Yashin said after stewing in thought for a while. “The more you say, the more you reveal.”

  “I did not feel I spoke that much,” he observed the people selling their goods. “Does anything troublesome ever happen here?”

  “The people here are quite happy,” Yashin replied, “and you did. Be more mindful. The council knows you doubt the general’s plan by simply asking a question instead of saying, ‘Yes, lord’.”

  “The plan is foolish,” Bardom insisted. “Ralu is not the type to trust a slave, and I don’t believe anyone in that room believed Kagarani when he brought up the idea of an ambush.”

  Yashin glared at him to stay silent about that.

  “Ralu has a weakness,” Yashin said. “He cannot help himself when it comes to his schemes. He will be very curious to hear how you survived his attack, while not admitting any involvement, that’s the dangerous pass you must navigate through. If you satisfy him, you may gain his good graces.”

  “Wouldn’t he just wish to kill me?”

  Yashin nodded. “Certainly. That’s why you have to give him a reason not to.”

  “And what reason can I give?” he frowned.

  Yashin stopped walking and turned to Bardom. “You pissed off the Great Leader by dancing with his most precious daughter. Ralu has ached for her hand. You can supply it to him.”

  Bardom’s frown deepened. “That sounds like helping him. Actually, that sounds impossible, Yashin.”

  “You’re probably right,” Yashin smirked. “It’s more like you negotiate an alliance or an arms trade than Princess Bilsa

  “She did enjoy my dancing,” Bardom grinned. “I’d bet she’d like a night with this Shavu.”

  “Perhaps you can get the lady pregnant before he has the chance to marry her, then,” Yashin chuckled at the sinister suggestion. “That’ll really show him.”

  “Not my style,” Bardom rolled his eyes. Looking around, puffing out a heavy exhale, Bardom noted, “He’s at least 20 years older than her. How could you even suggest I try to help him marry her?”

  “Maybe a little more than 20,” Yashin replied. “The only reason he hasn’t won her hand is because she’s refused it. Rontisil knows that he who sires his first grandchild will be a very powerful man. Vakin… he was close to wedding one of his daughters, had her favor and all, but Ralu took action.”

  “Troublesome fellow,” Bardom remarked. “Was it Bilsa then, too?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hm,” Bardom nodded slowly. “So Rontisil doesn’t intervene because he wants Ralu to marry Bilsa?”

  “He likes Ralu,” Yashin agreed. “He likes his money, his whores, his success. There’s no better field commander than Aya Ralu. Not to mention that his Shavuim supply the other generals with soldiers and workers.”

  “Then why do I waste my time with Kagarani?” Bardom asked.

  “Do you want to destroy the system or slow it down?” Yashin responded discreetly to not be heard by passersby. “Kill Rontisil while leaving Ralu alive, and we have a full blown civil war between Kagarani and Ralu. We’d lose that war.”

  Is he so sure it’s ‘we’ or does he only project his own loyalty to his master? Bardom thought.

  “Tolo, if we kill Ralu, Rontisil will be forced to side with Kagarani.”

  “And marry off Bilsa to him instead,” Bardom concluded suspiciously. “Yashin, don’t you see we are being used?”

  “Kagarani can be loyal to you if you prove you can be trusted,” Yashin stood his ground. “Why else would I urge you to stand by him?”

  “Fear,” Bardom replied, “confusion, having no other direction in your life. I could go on, Yashin, but you get the point. Why you’ve latched on to him instead of forging your own path baffles me.”

  “This is my own path, tolo,” he said firmly. “If you want to change this place, then Kagarani is your best shot. The sooner you realize that, the sooner it happens.”

  Bardom grunted, “Hm.” His eye caught someone watching him, a woman with a shawl around her head, covering her lower face. Eyes unmistakable. “Will you excuse me?”

  “What is it?” Yashin grumbled.

  “Someone is waiting to speak with me in private,” Bardom said, walking away.

  “Return to the keep when you’re done,” Yashin called after him. “We’ve been away too long, and we must prepare for the war campaign.”

  Bardom nodded, but the words were mostly ignored. He slipped through his crowd following the lady as she entered a shadowy alley. Following her in, Bardom’s curiosity piqued.

  They stood face to face and she lowered her shawl.

  “Hello, Laila,” he smiled. “Why is a princess hiding in my liege lord’s marketplace?”

  “Looking for you, Shavu-Kara,” she smirked, intrigued at how he dropped the formality. “You’ve made the court wild with accusations that my sister is improper, clueless, and lowly. It’s made my week wonderful.”

  “I dare say it’s wrong to take enjoyment from another’s misfortune,” Bardom crossed his arms and leaned his back against the narrow alley’s wall. “It makes me wonder if it’s her sullied reputation you enjoy, or that Aya Ralu will have to keep his distance from her.”

  Laila’s pensive gaze smoldered into a smirk.

  “You speak so well for Shavu,” she said. “There is something intriguing about you.”

  “My looks?” he grinned. “My charm?”

  “Your secrets,” she said, her voice as rich as cream, her eyes piercing deep into his soul.

  His smile wavered. “My dear lady, I’ve come here to sweep you off your feet. Nothing more.”

  “Charms will not work,” she chuckled softly. “I know a man on a mission when I see one. It’s a look I’ve carried my whole life. No matter how good an actor you are, you cannot hide the truth from me. Not forever.” She approached Bardom, wrapping her leg around his. She crept her hand around his head—her touch warm and inviting. She buried her chin into the spot between his shoulder and neck and whispered, “Who are you after?”

  Her scent inflamed his desire for her, making his thoughts scatter into a frenzy.

  Focus! he chided himself for giving in to this lust.

  “You’ve pulled out all of your tricks to make me soft,” he pressed his nose into her temple, her hair soft on his cheek. “Can you keep a secret?” He let the words hang. “Or are just you here to serve your father?”

  She pulled her head back and stared into his eyes, her look dark. “I would never serve him.”

  “But can you keep a secret?” he said, his eyes animated with urgency. They held each other's gaze, longingly and close.

  Eventually, she nodded slowly. Obediently.

  “You pretend to hate your sister, but I know you love her. Vakin was her desired match. Now he’s dead.”

  Laila did not dispute it—only a mere glance downward told him that she was surprised at his knowledge. “Is that your secret?

  “Vakin was not killed by L’Ani men,” he said with the taste of anticipation on his tongue. He had to stop himself from grinning.

  She did not release from him, but pulled back slightly in confusion.

  “Aya Ralu betrayed Vakin,” Bardom said in a whisper. “I intend to exact revenge on his behalf.” He drew closer to her and nibbled on her ear. “I know how much you would like to protect your sister from that monster.”

  She pulled his face before hers and locked her lips with his. Their passion was like an inferno. As they separated, they felt each other breathe. “How could you know what I wish for?”

  He let his forehead fall against hers. “Like you said, I have secrets. That’s one of them.”

  She gasped as his hand slid under her garments and felt her skin.

  “Do not be afraid,” he said. “It is I who faces the most dangerous task.”

  “Ralu is a monster,” she whispered.

  “He is,” he said, kissing her neck.

  “But my father is worse.”

  Bardom stopped, pulled back, and frowned at her, barely an inch between them.

  “Why did you stop?” she asked.

  He paused. “Your father…”

  “Na’Vanad,” she put her hands around the sides of his neck, stroking the hair on the base of his skull. “You say you know what I wish for—if that’s true, grant it to me! I wish to leave Stet-Lek. I want to go North! I want to see the world, I wish to experience freedom!”

  A smile tugged at his lips. “I was that way too, once,” he said. “You’re a few years younger than I am, so you don’t understand the way things are. There is no escaping your responsibilities. They always catch up to you, no matter how far you run.”

  “I thought you understood me,” she said in disappointment. “You must not know me as well as I’d thought.”

  She pushed past him, then half-turned back to him as she did up her shawl.

  “Why do you resent that I speak the truth to you?” he stood with a smooth yet confused expression. “Hiding will not make you feel better. Neither will running.”

  “How can you understand my life so clearly?” she said. “You’re a slave.”

  He only looked at her with a patient expression.

  “Is what you said true about Aya Ralu?”

  He nodded.

  “Then kill him before my father makes Bilsa marry him.”

  Silence passed between the two.

  “I’ll need your help,” he said.

  Laila nodded. “Anything.”

  Bardom grinned. She would be a very useful ally.

  “Who are you, really?” Laila asked.

  He could not help but grin. Lying like this was somehow fun. “Good day, Princess,” he bowed to her.

  She rolled her eyes.

  How gorgeous she is when she’s angry, Bardom thought.