The Past The Pledge
The Hierarchs expected us to fight, like crabs clawing at one another to escape a bucket; they never expected us to fight together, all the east and west and north as one.
—The Serdar-kin, Light of the Northern Reach and Bearer of the Memory of Nibet
As the sky lightened with dawn, Kai sat on the steps of what was left of the Hierarch’s house. The clean sea wind was at his back, carrying away the smoke and stench of death.
Most of the platform and the bridge to the port was still there, but the demons’ troopship had pulled part of it down when it sank.
Only the bow stood up out of the murky water, the rest had burned to the waterline.
The other troopship was afloat but still smoked from the smaller fires that had raced through it.
Kai hadn’t even had to help with that, the legionaries had done it themselves by panicking and knocking over lamps.
Then most had fled down the bridge to die as they met the Arike troops sweeping into the fort.
Behind Kai, there was nothing left of the Hierarch’s house but pilings.
In the panic and confusion of the fire, Kai had killed the Hierarch, and her severed head, somewhat charred, sat on the step beside him.
Some of the servant-nobles had gone into the water, but Vartasias and the two other expositors with him had run out to try to stop the fire on the demon ship and died there.
The fort itself had fared better. There were a few plumes of smoke, probably from accidental fires, but most of it seemed intact. Not that they would be staying here long. Only until the Enalin arrived to start the long drive toward the southern coast.
Kai saw movement along the wharf, which resolved into his cadre, who had found him a few hours ago.
He had taken their report and they had taken his to give to Bashasa and the other commanders, and he had sent them to get some rest. Salatel had balked, but he had told her why he had to stay out here: to make certain none of the demons managed to find a dead mortal body to take on.
But it had been long enough, now. With the path to the underearth closed, their bodies destroyed by fire and then water, the demons would be drifting now, their minds fading away. It was still a kind of life, probably. Just not the kind anyone Kai knew wanted.
He pushed himself upright, muscles stiff from lack of movement, picked up the Hierarch’s head, and started down the bridge.
Crossing back through the fort felt a little dream-like.
Salatel pressed him to drink some water, and Cerala had his black expositor’s coat and urged him to put it on.
That was when Kai realized he had lost his brown cotton one, and vaguely remembered having to discard it when it caught fire at one point.
They didn’t have a spare bag for the Hierarch’s head, but that was just as well; it was better that as many see it as possible.
They passed through the port, then up along the road past the barracks.
There were tired Arike soldiers, piles of the dead, groups of guarded legionary prisoners.
Bashasa would have already ordered that the civilians, the workers and servants and families, if any, be released to flee.
He would execute only the higher servant-nobles and officers.
Everyone went quiet as they saw what Kai carried.
The upper town was still almost deserted, since most of the fighting had been in the lower part of the fort.
Amabel, Tangeld, Isa, Hawkmoth, and Shearwater and some of the other Witches fell in with the cadre, trailing after Kai as they made their way through the streets.
Kreat caught up with them and tried to poke the Hierarch’s head, and was scolded by Isa and sent back to walk beside Amabel.
As they drew near the gate tower, Kai recognized people from the supply train carrying the equipment to set up their kitchens and infirmaries into the portico of what had been a grand house, probably for the highest servant-noble.
Salatel led the way inside it to a large foyer, where the Arike murals on the walls had been painted over with some kind of gray wash, and hung with weapons and trophies.
None of the lamps had been lit and it was dim and cool and somehow calm.
Ziede met them there, and she looked well, not even too tired.
Kai knew she had spent most of the battle in the air with her wind-devils, coordinating between the different Prince-heirs’ forces.
She shooed his cadre and the other Witches away, saying, “Yes, you’ve seen the Hierarch’s head, very impressive.
He has to meet with the Prince-heir now. ”
“Go get some food,” Kai told them all. The suppliers would have cold rations to hand out even if they hadn’t had a chance to start cooking fires yet.
“Send for us when you need us, Fourth Prince,” Salatel told him, and led the group away.
Ziede led Kai up a set of broad stairs into a mostly open balcony with latticed windows letting in the breeze, though there was still lingering smoke in the air.
The tiled floors and carved stone of the walls were almost untouched, except for a spray of blood in one corner.
Ziede took Kai’s arm, looked into his eyes, and asked quietly, “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” As an afterthought, Kai admitted, “I got a little scorched. How are Tahren and Dahin?” He thought someone would have told him if they had been hurt; Salatel had reported casualties and injuries last night. Kai mainly wanted to know if Tahren was angry with him.
“Dahin is very proud of himself, and Tahren was somewhat annoyed.” Ziede answered the unspoken question. “But we’ve agreed that you … had enough to deal with today and she and Dahin are going to settle it between themselves.”
That was good. Kai wanted to comment that it sounded like Tahren and Dahin hadn’t had much choice in making that agreement, but his thoughts were still too scattered to put the words together.
Ziede opened a door and they walked into a room with one curved wall of windows, looking out on the plaza in front of the gate tower.
Bashasa was there, and Lahshar, several of their cadre soldiers, a few vanguarders and an Enalin messenger Kai vaguely recognized.
He thought they had been with the Tescai-lin in the Summer Halls.
There was a table already covered with maps and papers.
Everyone was dusty, grimy, and a little blood-spattered.
The conversation stopped abruptly and they all stared.
Then Bashasa said, “We’ll continue this when Hiranan and the others are free. If you’ll excuse me!”
The others moved to leave immediately, even Lahshar, whose glance at Kai was a little wide-eyed and hard to read. Arava stepped up with an open bag. Kai put the Hierarch’s head in and she whisked it away.
Kai didn’t notice that Ziede had left too until Bashasa stepped up to him and took his hands. “Kai,” Bashasa said, and turned Kai’s hands palm up to look at the fading burns. “Trenal will bring food as soon as the suppliers have it ready. I want you to stay with me for the rest of the day.”
Kai frowned. “Is someone trying to kill you?”
Bashasa let out his breath. “Not more so than usual. Kai, Ziede told me what happened.”
Oh, Kai didn’t want to talk about that. He had told Salatel to report to Bashasa, but that had been some time ago and he was not nearly as numb now. “I made sure they won’t come back.” His voice was suddenly hoarse and raw.
Bashasa pulled him close, and Kai felt something inside himself break.
He did not burst into tears, but only because the fire intentions had taken so much out of him that he felt as desiccated as the corpses still stacked like cordwood along the wharf.
He buried his face in Bashasa’s neck and choked out, “It’s what I came here to do. ”
“You came here to face them in battle,” Bashasa said softly. “This was not something you expected.”
Kai had cried for the Saredi in the Cageling Demon Court, but he wasn’t sure he had ever truly mourned.
Maybe part of him had never really understood that their way of life was dead and buried, would never come back, maybe would never even be remembered.
He understood it now. The Hierarchs hadn’t just killed them; they had utterly destroyed everything they were, twisted it into something terrible.
“I want to stay with you,” he said into Bashasa’s neck.
He smelled of sweat and horse and the copper tang of blood.
Between that and the smoke of burned bodies saturating Kai’s clothes and hair and skin, they were like the war encapsulated.
“Ah, good,” Bashasa said, his breath warm on Kai’s ear. “We will stay together then.”
“And drive the Hierarchs into the southern sea,” Kai whispered.
Bashasa lifted his head and smiled. “That too.”