Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“General Fashav?  General Fashav, can you hear me?”

Fashav groaned as the words cut through the fog in his head.  Everything hurt, and he couldn’t move.  Why couldn’t he move?  He groaned again.

“He’s awake!” The same voice shouted above his head, and oh, how Fashav wished he would just lower his voice…

Fashav felt a cool, smooth hand press against his face, and a shadow loomed over him.  “General, please stay still.” Fashav had no intention of moving.  Ever again.  “You’re being moved to Sunfall so we can treat your wounds before going on to Meridian.  You were gravely injured at Barren Light.”

Barren Light?  Injured?

The memories started coming back, painting muddied, horrible pictures in his mind amid the splitting pain.  “My men…” He croaked, and a cough racked him.  He couldn’t even keep his eyes open and his arms were leaden weights at his sides.

“Please just rest, sir,” the voice said.  He had to be the healer, Fashav thought.  “General Helis will take your report and give you answers as soon as you are well enough.”

Fashav groaned again, but this time it was because of the mention of Helis.  A trip to Sunfall would of course mean a visit from Helis.  Fashav disliked the man intensely, and knew the feeling was mutual.  The two had quite conflicting views on how to conduct themselves, and had never seen eye to eye on anything.

The healer hovering over him pressed something wet to his face, neck and shoulders in tandem.  “His Radiance has allowed the use of his palace for the survivors to get treatment before making the journey back to Holy Meridian.  Such generosity.” The man truly sounded touched about this, and Fashav would have rolled his eyes, but the pain he felt everywhere prevented it.

His mind focused a little, and knew that the healer must have given him something medicinal earlier; it explained the slight loosening of the vice grip of pain on his body.  He was riding in a cart, covered for the most part to protect him from the Sun.  How long had they been on the march from Barren Light?

The mud clouding his memory began to settle and Fashav began to remember.  A great battle at the gates.  Fragments started to piece together, giving him snatches of memory from that night.  The fearsome reavers from the west, the Tenakth, had attacked in the dead of night.  How had they gotten through the gates?  The soldiers stationed there had been fortunate that the Army of the Setting Sun was passing through and therefore staying within the garrison that night, otherwise it might truly have been a rout, or even a total massacre.

As it was, the fighting was fierce; no less than expected from a foe that had fought back the Carja on more than one occasion during prior raids.  Fashav remembered the Tenakth starting to fall back, and it was then he had succumbed to his injuries.  He could remember nothing else.

Maybe in time more details would surface, but it was enough thinking for now.  Fashav wondered if the Tenakth had all been tracked down and killed, or if most had escaped.

He drifted toward sleep again, thinking how glad he was to be removed from action for a time.  He remembered feeling hopeless in his march west.  He had wanted to curb the bloodshed.  Steer his men from savagery and toward restraint.  How many of them had survived?

So much death…  Fashav sighed and let sleep take him.

When Fashav woke again, the caravan was arriving at Sunfall, and he was almost surprised he made it to Sunfall without waking again.  It was a long journey between Barren Light and Sunfall.  Either they had initially been closer than he knew, or he was more gravely injured than he realized.

The healer and a soldier helped him sit and eased him off of the cart and supported him through the doors of the palace and to a lush room on the second level.  He recognized it from the few times he had been invited to join his cousins at Sunfall during their younger years.  Kadaman and Avad had their own rooms, being members of the Radiant Line, but Fashav had still been afforded one of the nicest guest rooms.

“Try not to move, General,” the healer instructed as he completed his official treatments.  

Fashav tried to reply, but barely got out a grunt.  His wounds were great, but Fashav knew he would be up and about again in a relatively short time.  He had always healed quickly, and despite the life-threatening nature of his wounds, he must have received treatment quickly.

Helis visited him on the third day of his convalescence and Fashav did his best to be polite and answer all of his questions.

“Did you know your army captured a Tenakth warrior?” Helis asked after Fashav’s retelling of the events.  Fashav must have shown his surprise clearly on his face, as Helis nodded and chuckled.  “They would all sooner die in battle than be captured, but your men caught him as he closed the gates of Barren Light from the inside, saving his tribesmen.  The gates closing and the Tenakth fighting off the men delayed the raiding party to such an extent that the rest of the barbarians escaped back into the west completely.”

“Closed the gates?” Fashav asked in bewilderment.

Helis nodded.  “Yes.  Fought back a dozen men before his capture.  The last Tenakth in Barren Light is ours.  And he will know the full extent of the Sun’s judgment.”  Helis strode to Fashav’s window, which looked out over the small courtyard where the sun priests performed some of their rites.  “He goes to the Sun Ring tomorrow.” He cursed and shook his head.

“He killed two soldiers on the way back despite his condition.  Claimed one of them was harassing an Utaru slave girl, and snapped his neck.  He beat the other soldier to death.  Said he was stealing water from the prisoners.  The Tenakth will always lie for an excuse to kill.” Helis sighed.  “Even so, they are strong.  If only they could turn to the Sun, they would be powerful allies.”

Fashav felt cold and sick.  The Carja soldier probably had been harassing the Utaru girl.  The other most likely had been withholding rations.  These were acts he had seen in his troops, and however many were still alive were the ones bringing them back to Sunfall.  He knew stories of the Tenakth and Utaru having some kind of an accord with each other.  The Tenakth primarily left the Utaru alone, but exchanged protection and training for help with food and supplies.  Still, to risk such punishment to help fellow prisoners?  Were the Tenakth honorable after all?  Even under their dire circumstances?

“Powerful indeed,” Fashav murmured.  “What machine will you have him fight?”

Helis turned back to Fashav with a wicked glint in his eye.  “He will face a Behemoth.”

Fashav paled and sputtered.  “How did you get one of those?”  It must be the biggest machine to enter the Sun Ring so far.

Helis laughed cruelly.  “The new Banuk shamans from the Cut were able to wrangle one for us.  One in particular has great promise as she shows the best accord with the machines.”

Fashav’s stomach turned and he grimaced.  The bloodlust of the crowd had always filled him with shame for his people, and knowing that this Tenakth prisoner was going to face certain death for defending others from abuses…  It truly sickened him.

“I will let you get your rest, Fashav,” Helis said then.  “The healer would like to get you back to Holy Meridian soon, and the march is next week.  Do you think you will be well enough to join them?”

Fashav nodded.  Even if he wasn’t, he would force himself to make the trip just to get away from Helis and the Sun Ring.  “I will be ready, sir.”

“Excellent,” Helis nodded.  “Perhaps we will see you for the evening meal tonight.”

Fashav would rather not, but he also didn’t want to risk getting on Helis’ bad side.  “I will do my best to be there, unless the healer forbids it.”

Helis nodded again and left the room.

Fashav breathed an enormous sigh of relief.  What a nightmare.

After the Midday Song to the Sun had concluded, the healer visited Fashav again, bringing more medicines, creams, and new bandages.  Fashav asked if he would be allowed to attend the evening meal with the other military leaders currently at Sunfall, hoping he would say no, but apparently Fashav was healing well (as he predicted) and with the extracted promise that Fashav wouldn’t overdo it and come back early, he agreed.

Fashav was still sour about this as he made his way to the dining hall of the palace.  He moved slowly, his wounds still somewhat fresh, and stopped frequently to catch his breath.  As he paused again, Fashav cast his gaze out a window which looked out over the Sun Ring; his first glimpse of it since his arrival.

A lone figure was caged in the suspended cell at the center.  The Tenakth prisoner.  Maybe the execution was earlier in the morning than usual.

He suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore, but continued on to join what was left of his army and Helis’ unit.  Upon his entry to the lavishly decorated hall, Fashav’s men welcomed him boisterously, and he allowed himself a little relief that they hadn’t all been slaughtered.

Certainly they had been gnashing at the bit to get into the Forbidden West and raid to the Sun’s content, but they were still people.  Fashav’s goal, after all, was to spare as many lives as he could.

He thought it would be easy at the head of an army, but every time he did not go after escapees, or skirted around a village, he heard the murmurs of mutiny more and more.  The men had wanted Zaid to lead them when they were organized under their Setting Sun banner, but he had been occupied in the Savage East, handling the Nora.  The command had been assigned to Fashav instead, which displeased the men, but they had still respected him.  That respect had been ebbing away dangerously the longer they spent making their vaguely unsuccessful raids to the west.

Someone else would lead them now, Fashav knew.  With his wounds and so-called ‘honorable deeds’, the Sun King would likely relieve him of command.  Fashav would not be ready to head into battle for some time, despite his progress the last few days, and the Sun could not be made to wait.  The Army of the Setting Sun would march again as soon as possible.

A servant seated Fashav beside Helis, who tipped his chin in greeting.  “Welcome, General Fashav.  We feast in honor of your victory at Barren Light, and the auspicious sacrifice tomorrow.”  Helis cast his eyes to the room and raised his glass.  “To the Army of the Setting Sun, and victorious General Unyielding Fashav who fought to the bitter end, driving out the Tenakth horde from our holy lands.  We bring one as tribute to the Sun, may it shine everlasting on the Sundom and Radiant line.”  He raised his glass to Fashav before drinking.  Fashav nodded his thanks for the gracious reception and drank from his own cup, but had a sneaking suspicion that Helis was not exactly sincere.  Helis was never this gracious with his praise.

“We must also pay our respects to the fallen.”  Helis gestured a sun priest forward, who spoke a prayer to the Sun for the light snuffed out of pious soldiers too soon, and imploring comfort to the families they left behind.  At his conclusion, the sun priest bowed deeply.

With the platitude  complete, the sun priest retreated and Helis addressed the hall again.  “Eat, men.  Enjoy the Sun’s bounty, and rest well this night.”  The hall cheered boisterously, the sound echoing around the stone walls and buttresses.

Fashav’s head began to ache, a dull stab at the base of his skull that pushed slowly to the space between his eyes, and he picked half-heartedly at the meal before him.  Thankfully, with the healer’s orders as support, and his own waning energy, Fashav excused himself once the main meal had concluded.  Helis scarcely glanced at him, but frowned and dismissed him without comment.  Fashav plastered on a smile, thanking him, and then everyone for their hospitality and support.

The servants tittered at him as he complimented the food and service.  Arms were clasped on his way toward the door, and then finally he escaped into the cool evening of the desert, the door shutting resonantly behind him.  The sounds of the men laughing and shouting still ebbed into the otherwise quiet night.

Fashav heaved a sigh and leaned back against the ornately carved doors.  Tired as he was, he decided to take a walk around the palace grounds to clear his mind.  The night was calm and clear, a half moon shining from the east, and a quiet breeze rustling through the ridgewood scrub trees that surrounded the palace grounds.

Pushing away from the doors, Fashav made his way around the upper balconies slowly.  The wound in his leg ached fiercely and Fashav found himself affecting a limp by the time he was halfway back to his room.  Sweat beaded his brow as he reached the upper balcony of the Sun Ring and he almost staggered forward to sit on one of the benches to catch his breath and rest.

Had a week of being bedridden really caused him to lose this much of his strength?  The wounds certainly had much to do with his exhaustion, but losing so much of his strength just after a week demoralized him in an unexpected way.  These walks would do him well, he determined.  Just a small walk each day so that his body would not forget what it was to move around.  It was the least he could do until he was healed.

Fashav wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and basked in the breeze, letting it cool and comfort him.  He breathed slowly and steadily and was about to stand again when a creeping feeling raised the hairs on the back of his neck.  He looked around and saw the Tenakth prisoner glaring at him from within his cage.  Fashav frowned and chastised himself for being caught so unawares.  He rose to his feet, but instead of retreating back into the palace walkways as he should do, something compelled him to move closer.

The Tenakth glared unwaveringly at him all the way until Fashav reached the railing.  He rested his hands there and took in the man before him.  He looked young, maybe only twenty-four summers; just a few years younger than himself.  He had worn sky blue and fuchsia paint at some point, Fashav observed, seeing the streaks that remained along his olive skin.  Probably most of it had worn off from the trek between Barren Light and Sunfall; by sweat or rain.

Or washed away by blood, he thought as he noticed the lash marks across his arms and shoulders, and grimaced.

The Tenakth must have been beaten badly after having killed two Carja soldiers.  Such a crime could not just be dealt with at the Sun Ring.  It needed swift action to reinforce the Carja control over the captives.  Fashav felt a stab of pain in his stomach that had nothing to do with his wounds.

Helis intended to send a wounded man to the Sun Ring against a Behemoth?  Surely there had to be mercy somewhere, but Fashav knew it had forsaken the Sundom under his uncle’s rule.

The two stared at each other for a long time, and finally Fashav opened his mouth to speak.  “I hear you saved your comrades.  You closed the gates at Barren Light to allow them time to escape.”

The Tenakth did not reply; his dark eyes burned with anger.

“I am glad for that,” Fashav said softly, breaking the other’s gaze to look into the Sun Ring itself.

“You’re what?” The Tenakth’s voice was hoarse and weak, and Fashav wondered when he last had water.  He looked up at the Tenakth again whose expression was incredulous now.  “A Carja glad for a missed opportunity for slaughter?”

Fashav frowned helplessly.  What did he expect as a response?  How could anyone take a comment like that seriously after years of raiding and sacrifices?  Despite his efforts, Fashav was just one man.  He could not make up for the atrocities of his whole tribe.

“I am glad, whether you believe it or not,” Fashav sighed.  “I am sorry that in saving your people, you were captured.”

“It is honorable to die in battle,” the Tenakth growled.  “I have no regrets.”

“What you will be going through tomorrow is hardly a battle,” Fashav snapped.  “It is a sacrifice.  You will have no weapons, no armor, nothing.  They are setting a Behemoth on you!”

This seemed to give the Tenakth pause, but his moment of uncertainty was masked again, and he set his jaw.  “It does not matter.  By my life I saved my squad from your Carja blades.  I will go to the Ten with honor.”

Fashav shook his head and leaned forward to rest against the balcony rail.  “I’m sorry for all of this.”

“Why?”

The question had Fashav looking up again.  The Tenakth watched him carefully, as if waiting for a trap to be sprung.  Fashav shook his head and shrugged.  “Because no one deserves what you’ve gone through.  The border tribes do not deserve to be hunted and sacrificed.  The Carja people do not deserve to live in fear of their ruler.  I could go on.”

“You speak treasonously about your king.”

Fashav snorted.  “Perhaps, but he is not a worthy king.”

“General Fashav?”

Panic seized Fashav’s heart and he spun around to see a palace guard approaching.  He must have been making his rounds for the evening.  Had he heard?

“You are cowardly.” Fashav heard the Tenakth behind him spit out.  “You think you can attempt to trick me with your words?  Even so, I have no further information to give.  My squad is long gone now, and your army will not have its vengeance.”

Fashav was confused, but couldn’t find his words.

“Watch your mouth, filth,” the guard shouted.  “This is General Unyielding Fashav.  You would do well to show him respect.”

“Or what?” Tenakth sneered at the guard, grasping the cell bars and leaning forward.  “I am to face my death tomorrow.  I do not need to humor his pathetic attempt at subterfuge.”

A strategy, Fashav realized then.  The Tenakth must have seen the guard approaching and knew they had been overheard.  By accusing Fashav of trying to extract military plans from him, their conversation would have sounded in line if Fashav was trying to trick him by being sympathetic to the Tenakth cause.

But why would he make that effort?

The Tenakth fixed Fashav with an unreadable look.  “The unyielding general will need to remain disappointed.  And by tomorrow it will be too late.”

The guard scoffed and turned to Fashav.  “Please, sir, let’s leave this thing be.  His kind can’t be trusted.”

Fashav glanced at the Tenakth again, hoping the other could see his gratefulness.  “Yes, all right.”  He gave the guard an insincere smile.  “I guess my interrogation techniques are a bit rusty.”

The guard laughed.  “The Tenakth are a different sort, sir.  We don’t see too many still alive around here, but the men bring back stories of frightening deeds and blood drinking.  Truly a Sun-forsaken tribe.  It will be a glorious day when His Radiance oversees the last of them.”

“Yes, of course.” Fashav agreed, but a queasy feeling sank into his gut like a brass ingot.  “Thank you for your support.  I can make my way back to my quarters.”

The guard saluted and returned to his rounds.  Fashav looked back into the Sun Ring and found the Tenakth prisoner watching him.  Fashav tore his gaze away and made his way back to his room, feeling unsettled.

In the morning, Fashav awoke to the priests singing their Dawning Song to the Sun, and groaned.  He had tossed and turned all night, and the last thing he wanted to hear this early were the priests’ intonations and glorifications to the Radiant Line in the courtyard as they greeted the Sun.

He tried in vain to go back to sleep, but this too was interrupted with the healer coming to call.  The healer seemed excited today, buzzing about Fashav’s room as he prepared the warmed water, fresh bandages, and medicinal salve.

“Can you believe we are to sacrifice our first Tenakth in the Sun Ring?” He asked as he unbound Fashav’s shoulder.  “And to a Behemoth!  Truly the Sun will shine upon us for this.  Surely He will be pleased.”

Fashav had almost forgotten the execution was today.  He winced as the bandage pulled at the skin around the stitches under his clavicle.  “Has His Radiance arrived for it?” He asked.

The healer scoffed good-naturedly.  “No, he does not need to condescend to watch this.  Momentous as it is, His Radiance has business in Meridian.”

“How unfortunate for him,” Fashav said, glumly.
“Do not worry, sir,” the healer continued, misinterpreting Fashav’s demeanor.  “His Radiance intends to welcome you back to Meridian with honors for holding Barren Light and defending it from the barbarians.”

Barbarians indeed, Fashav mused.  He knew very little of the Tenakth that was not steeped in Carja prejudice.  He would like to know more about them directly, and the only Tenakth in the Sundom was about to be executed.  The Tenakth certainly had not behaved in a subhuman way.  He spoke of honor, self-sacrifice for the greater good, and had offered Fashav plausible deniability when he was caught slandering the Sun King…

“Well, I could only do my bidding,” Fashav responded dolefully.  He barely remembered anything of what he had done.  His memory still had not come back from much of that night, and by this time, he felt the holes that existed would be there forever.

The healer made an approving sound, and finished his ministrations with a dusting off of his hands.  “You are healing well, General.  We owe you and your men a great deal.  You sacrificed much for the Sundom.”  He stood and bowed.  “I look forward to seeing you at the Sun Ring.”

Fashav crumpled, and thankfully the healer had already turned away and was exiting his room.  He did not want to explain his less than enthusiastic response to the pious man who clearly thought the Sun King was the best man to lead the Carja through the derangement.

A guard came to collect him shortly after and Fashav followed him out to the ramparts where Helis already stood, presiding over the growing crowd.  The Tenakth prisoner stood in his cage, his glare fixed on Helis, but flicked over to Fashav as he was escorted to the edge of the platform.

Fashav wondered if his wounds had opened up again, as he felt a little faint suddenly.  The platform thundered below his feet, and he heard the rending of the Behemoth caged below them.

“General, are you unwell?” Helis’ words were nothing but concern, but Fashav heard the false tone.  “You seem a little pale.”

“Forgive me,” Fashav looked away from the sight before them.  “I suppose it has been some time since the healer has let me be out in the sun and climbing stairs.  I am well though.”

“Excellent,” Helis said approvingly.  “Today marks an historic moment as the first Tenakth reaver is sacrificed for the Sun’s pleasure.  Perhaps with his blood, the Sun shall begin to be satisfied.”

Helis turned to the sun priest and conferred about the Sun’s position.  The priest made a small sign with his gloved hands and then nodded to Helis.

“Carja faithful!” Helis' voice boomed over the thrum of the crowd.  The crowd began to hush, and Fashav’s eyes went back to the Tekanth, who, to his shock, was looking at him again, the glare now absent from his face.

“Today, we see our first reaver from the Forbidden West enter our sacred Sun Ring,” Helis continued.  “Today, he will face the great and terrible Behemoth.  The Sun welcomes this sacrifice today.” He pointed to the guard who controlled the drop of the cage, and Fashav felt his heart in his drop as the cage trap door opened and the Tenakth fell, hitting the ground hard, and sending red dust billowing out around him.

The guards positioned at the gate to the machine holding cell raised the door and the Behemoth charged out.

Helis applauded and looked to Fashav who did his best to nod and smile at him and this…accomplishment.  Fashav’s stomach twisted, and he fought back a wave of nausea.  He looked back into the ring as he heard the Behemoth dislodge boulders from the earth.  He knew what usually happened after this attack, and he tried to spot the Tenakth around the dusty floor.

The Behemoth hurled its assembled boulder, and caught his breath as he saw the Tenakth rolling out of the way just in time.

The Tenakth darted behind a column just as the Behemoth charged.  The column cracked, and Fashav watched as the Tenakth raced from behind it to an old weapons rack.  With a mighty blow, he splintered the supports with his bare hands and wrested free a length of wood.

Helis laughed wickedly beside him.

Instead of attacking the machine though, the Tenakth ran for the gate and, using the length of wood, levered himself up the wall to a guard post.

Taken by surprise, the guard had his neck snapped before the crowd recognized what was happening.  And just like that, the Tenakth had a proper spear.

"Shoot, you fools!" Helis was shouting suddenly.  "I want blood spilled now!"

The Tenakth took in his surroundings, and Fashav felt admiration at how quickly he seemed to be able to assess the fight.  Even so, he was only one against the Kestrels and a Behemoth.

A Kestrel fired an arrow, but the Tenakth was already leaping back to the dirt floor, and it sliced through the air behind him.  The Behemoth reared and flung its boulders again, but the Tenakth was fast, and he had led the machine to another post in the arena that held a few other guards.  There was no time to see the attack coming and the platform fell, toppling the guards into the Sun Ring as well.

Helis thundered furiously next to him, hurling orders at the men around them, and Fashav did his best to appear upset as well, but inside he felt relief.  Perhaps with the guards now in the Sun Ring, the Behemoth could be felled.

The Tenakth’s form became visible from the dust he sprinted toward another platform.  The guards at the top fired arrows and hurled spears at him, but he dodged nimbly, taking up the spears and turning them on the Behemoth that reared and charged forward.  He managed to damage two of its force loaders before diving to the side as it rammed into the platform, bringing it down along with the guards.

Fashav leaned forward, gripping the railing with his heart in his throat.

The Tenakth would survive.
He knew it.  He felt it.

Helis was beside himself in fury at how this was playing out and bellowed again for his Kestrels to aim solely for the Tenakth and ignore the Behemoth, even if it meant sacrificing the guards that had fallen into the Sun Ring.

“The Sun help us.”  Fashav heard a sun priest murmur and begin a desperate prayer.

The Tenakth emerged again from the dust, but now Fashav saw wounds beginning to emerge, as the Tenakth became slower from his exertion.  No one could keep up a pace like this for too long, despite their prowess, and Fashav offered his own prayer to the Sun that whatever strength the Tenakth had left would last him to the end.

The Behemoth ground its jaw into the dirt and sent shrapnel flying forward, kicking up even more dust and obscuring everything within the Sun Ring.  Fashav tried not to grimace as he heard the dying screams of the Carja guards that had fallen.  A crackling explosion lit up the dust from within, displaying the shadows of Behemoth parts flying in different directions.

A collective breath was held throughout the Sun Ring’s stands, and Fashav had to remind himself to relax.  He eased back from the railing and stole a glance at Helis.  The normally pale man’s complexion had lost even more pallor, and his eyes burned in a rage Fashav did not recognize.  Helis hated failure more than most, and to have so fully misestimated the Tenakth’s ferocity and cunning would be a level of failure that could not be tolerated.

Fashav focused on breathing as the dust began to settle again, and it seemed that the Behemoth had been killed.  The Sun Ring echoed in the silence that had fallen in the wake of the explosion, and finally, a figure stood alone as the dust settled enough to make out the floor again.

The Tenakth staggered as the Behemoth steamed and sparked beside him, a spear impaling its blown out power cell.  Fashav swallowed thickly.  The bodies of the fallen guards lay in various corners of the Sun Ring, machine parts and shattered rocks strewn around them.  The Tenakth turned slowly toward Helis, and Fashav shuddered.  Blood streamed down the right side of his face from a long gash on his forehead, and the shafts of broken arrows protruded from his left shoulder and thigh.

"He survived," Helis muttered in shock.  "It can't be." He raised his hand and Fashav saw an archer pull back his bow string, the hardpoint arrow aimed at the wounded Tenakth below.

"Commander Helis, if I may?" Fashav blinked in surprise at another general, Uthid, who seemed to have materialized out of nowhere.

Helis rounded on him. "What, Uthid?  I have to take care of this humiliation."

Uthid, to his credit, held his ground.  "Commander, it is customary that if a prisoner survives the Sun Ring, they go as slaves to serve the nobles and the Radiant Line in Meridian."

"Are you asking me to spare his life?" Helis demanded in barely contained fury.

"You may do as you will," said Uthid carefully.  "But strong slaves are hard to come by.  The Sun King is still building his greatest monuments."

A spark flickered in Helis’ eyes and his anger cooled.  "The Sun King must be honored," He agreed in a mumble, almost to himself, considering Uthid’s words.  He looked back into the Sun Ring and the Tenakth, who was now looking up at them, somehow still on his feet, seemingly awaiting his death.

Fashav couldn't take his eyes away.  A chance for the Tenakth to live.  Relief coursed through him and he made a note to thank Uthid when it was safe to do so.

Helis finally waved off the archer and quieted the crowd again.  "Fellow Carja," he began.  "The Tenakth prisoner has defeated the machine set on him, so by the Sun's will, he shall be as spared." The crowd roared in displeasure.  "Peace, hold!" He waited for the noise to subside.  "We must honor the Sun's wishes, and this one will be sent into service of the Radiant Line.  Through blood and sweat will the Sun's favor be earned."

The crowd approved, their cheers rising deafeningly, and Helis motioned for three Kestrels to restrain the Tenakth.  Fashav winced as the Kestrels brought him roughly to the dirt and bound him.  Fashav wasn’t sure, but it did not appear that the Tenakth favored this outcome and remembered what he had said the night before about dying honorably.

“General Fashav,” Helis’ voice cut through his thoughts and he looked up.  Helis’ expression was stormy, and it was clear that, though he had been swayed, he disliked how this had played out.  “We have other prisoners who will go to the Sun Ring today, but I want to be sure that Tenakth will not be seen by any of them.  If they know he has been spared, it could give them hope.”

Fashav kept his surprise in check and nodded.  “I will be sure to see to it that he is held away from the others.”

Helis nodded at him, clearly a dismissal, and Fashav departed quickly, sparing a nod at Uthid.  The older general met his eyes, but remained otherwise impassive.

Fashav made his way slowly down to the ground level of the Sun Ring and met the three guards and the wounded Tenakth subdued between two of them.  His eyes raised to meet his fate upon Fashav's approach.  His wounds were more numerous than Fashav had seen from a distance.  The gash above his eye had since coagulated, and the blood was now drying on his skin.  His clothes were stained with blood, machine oil, and dirt.

“You fought well,” Fashav said to him, keeping his expression blank, but meaning every word.  “Now your service to the Sun King begins.”

The Tenakth growled.  “I would sooner kill him.”  He cried out as the third guard struck his face with the butt of his spear.

“Silence, apostate!”

“Enough,” Fashav held up his hand.  “He may consider his place in the Sundom in the holding cell behind the arena.  Others are scheduled for the Sun Ring today, and he must be kept clear.  See to any wounds that might become infected.  There is hard labor to be done in service to His Radiance, and he will travel to Meridian with our departure next week.”

Uncertainty and despair flashed in the Tenakth’s deep brown eyes before they hardened again.  He growled and Fashav saw blood in his teeth.

“Yes, General,” the guard saluted and they hauled the Tenakth away.

Fahsav closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

What a nightmare.

There were eight additional sacrifices that day, and Fashav felt drained by the time the last body was cleared from the Sun Ring.  Helis had insisted on a feast in the name of the Sun that night, and Fashav had hardly been able to taste the lavish food that had been prepared.  It had all tasted like ash.

With the hope that a short walk around the palace grounds would ease his conscience, Fashav once again begged off early, citing his still healing wounds.  He had not been around Helis for such a concentrated amount of time since they were both working their way through military training, and he had forgotten how difficult it was to deal with him.

As Fashav moved toward the lower courtyard, his ears picked up a hushed conversation.  He recognized one voice as that of the Tenakth warrior.  The other sounded like a young woman.  Fashav frowned.  He wasn’t near the cells where Helis had wanted the Tenakth to be held.  Maybe the guards had received additional orders after Fashav had left them.  He followed the voices, pausing in the shadows as he saw the Tenakth warrior seated in the dirt and his wrists bound above his head to a post in the ground.

The food in Fashav’s stomach turned.  The whipping post.  It had been installed to ‘discipline’ prisoners a few years ago, before the Sun King had determined sacrifice would be better than just beatings.  Apparently it was still used for more spirited captives.

Beside the Tenakth, a young woman knelt, an Utaru by the looks of her.  She had a bowl in her hands and was helping the Tenakth drink from it.  If she was caught, she would be sacrificed next, and intent on avoiding that situation, Fashav strode into the courtyard.

The Tenakth’s eyes found him immediately, and again Fashav felt impressed at how quickly he assessed his surroundings.  The Utaru woman looked confused for a moment before turning to see him approaching.

She gasped and the bowl dropped from her hands spilling water over the ground.  Terror seized her face and she dropped her upper body to the ground in as low of a grovel as Fashav had ever seen.

“Forgive me, sir,” she stuttered.  “Please, please forgive me.”

Fashav glanced from her to the Tenakth, who watched him silently with inscrutable eyes.  He sighed and knelt in front of the Utaru woman.  He could hear her breaths coming short and fast, and he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

It did not have the desired effect of calming her, and how could it?  She was expecting severe punishment.  Fashav removed his hand, but stayed on his knees in front of her.

“Look up, young lady.  You have nothing to fear from me,” he said quietly.

“If you hurt her…” Fashav glanced up at the Tenakth whose expression was heavy with intent.

“I will not,” Fashav said.  “She is trying to help.  So am I.”

The Utaru finally looked up at him, and he held out his hand to her.  She sniffed, and with trembling fingers reached back to him.  He clasped her hand gently and lifted her back into a sitting position.  He let go of her hand and sat back, creating a respectable distance between them.

“There, that’s a little better,” Fashav smiled, and he saw her blush lightly.  “I am Fashav.”

She nodded.  “Your name is known to us.  The general of the Army of the Setting Sun who defended Barren Light.”

Fashav grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck.  “Of course.  You would have been transported with us after the battle.”

She nodded.

“I am not nearly as fearsome as some of my colleagues,” he offered.  “I know that does not mean anything to you, but please know I will not bring you any harm.”

The Utaru looked over her shoulder at the Tenakth and then back at Fashav.  “Thank you, sir.”

Fashav looked back to the Tenakth, and saw he had new injuries.  He frowned and shook his head in dismay.  “How are you faring?” He asked.

The Tenakth’s eyes turned cold again.  “I still live.”

“I am glad for it,” Fashav said, but the Tenakth growled.

“Spare me your pity, Carja,” he spat.  “I don’t need it.”

“Of course,” Fashav sighed.  “Well, if this is going to happen again,” he looked pointedly at the Utaru woman whose eyes went wide, “I would recommend you be a little more circumspect.  I had no trouble hearing you from across the courtyard.”  He rose to leave, but the Utaru’s voice stopped him.

“Wait!” He looked back at her and the blush over her cheeks raged a fiery red.  “I… My name is Shael.  This is Kotallo.”

The Tenakth, Kotallo, snarled quietly, and Fashav thought he definitely would have been much happier without being introduced.  He said nothing to Shael though, and Fashav smiled.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Shael, Kotallo,” Fashav said, and Shael finally smiled at him.  She was very lovely, and Fashav had a flash of memory; something Helis said about harassment on the march to Sunfall.  The realization settled cold within him, and his smile fell.  “You were the one…”  He trailed off.  She must have been the Utaru who was being assaulted on the road to Sunfall from Barren Light, leading Kotallo to kill the soldier who had made the trespass.

Shael tilted her head in question, but Kotallo ground his teeth.  Fashav knew he was right.

“Are you alright in this place?” Fashav asked Shael in concern.

“She will be as long as Carja keep their hands from her and their words in their mouths,” Kotallo growled.

Fashav nodded.  “Where do they keep you, Shael?”

Shael looked between the two of them, blinking owlishly and wondering at the turn of the conversation.  “The slave quarters.  I am going with the next transport to Meridian.”  She sighed deeply.

Fashav sighed.  “Well, I will keep an eye out for you, if that would help.”

“And what can you do, Carja?” Kotallo asked, skeptically.  “You have your reputation to uphold.”

A deep frown creased Fashav’s face.  “Would you like me thrown into the Sun Ring next?  Would that make up for everything?”

Kotallo was taken aback, and scowled, remaining silent and looking away.

“Please, sir, don’t let them take you to the Sun Ring!” Shael said, alarmed at his question.  “You seem so good and kind.  We…  More of you are needed, not fewer.”

Fashav smiled at her.  “Thank you, Shael.  I appreciate that."

Fashav truly worried for her safety as Shael smiled at him again.  She gestured to Kotallo then, a sadness flickered over her face.  “Kotallo is kind also.  He doesn’t deserve this.  It’s because of me he is in this situation.”

“How did you get here anyway?”  Fashav asked Kotallo.  “I thought you were being kept in the cells behind the Sun Ring.”

Kotallo frowned and sighed deeply.  “Apparently, just because I survived your Sun Ring does not mean I can defend myself against further injury.”
Fashav groaned.  “You killed another guard?”

“If he had wanted to live, he would not have tried to cut off my hair,” Kotallo growled.  “And his friends would have done well to let me kill him, but they tried to help, so I had to fight them too.”

Shaking his head, Fashav shrugged in resignation.  “That will do it, all right.  How many lashes did they give you?”

“Forty.”

“I’ll fetch some salve,” Fashav said.  “The healer gave me plenty.”

“Are you doing better, sir?” Shael chimed in again.  “I know you were very badly hurt during the battle.”

“That’s kind of you to ask,” Fashav said, smiling.  “I have improved, but still have some healing to do.”

“And then you’ll go back to the bloodbath with honors?” Kotallo asked bitterly.

“I very much doubt it,” Fashav frowned.  “That is left up to the Sun King though.”  He looked over his shoulder as he heard voices on the approach, and then back at Shael.  “We should go, Shael.  I’ll get some salve and you should get back to your quarters before you are caught.”

The fear had returned to Shael’s eyes, and Fashav offered his hand to help her to her feet.  She looked regretfully at Kotallo, who just nodded to her, a gentle look on his face.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Fashav said to him, but noticed the skeptical look return to Kotallo’s face.

He led Shael away and took a most meandering path back to the slave quarters, to ensure no one came upon them.

“Where are we going, sir?”  She asked softly.

Fashav looped his arm around her shoulders to steer her around a corner as a patrol marched by at the intersection ahead.  He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow, and she ducked her head abashedly.

“Sorry, sir,” she murmured.

“I think at this point in our collaboration, it would be appropriate for you to call me by my name,” he said.  He smiled at her, and she grinned.

“I’ll try, sir,” she giggled.

“The way is clear again,” Fashav said.  “Come, we’re almost back.”

He noticed trouble right away though, as the guard stationed at the front of the slave quarters was alert, keeping an appropriate vigil.  Fashav sighed in frustration.

“Well, this will be interesting.”  He turned to Shael to lay out his plan.  “I have a right to be up and about.  No one will question me.  When I distract him, slip back in just as quietly as you can.”

Shael nodded seriously.  “I won’t let you down, sir.”

“Right, then our first mission is on now.”  Fashav gave her a nod and a wink and strode out of the darkness, taking the guard by surprise.

“Ah, General,” he straightened and adjusted his stance.  “What are you doing up so late?”

Fashav stopped just past the guard and nodded toward the palace.  “I wasn’t able to get to sleep tonight, so I thought I would take a walk.”  He sighed.  “Against the healer’s orders, I know, but the Sun help me, I was too restless to stay cooped up in my room.”

The guard turned to face Fashav, leaving the entrance to the slave quarters unwatched.  “I understand that, General.  I get a little restless myself.  But what brings you all the way out here?  Your quarters are back on the other side of the palace.”

Fashav glanced surreptitiously over the guard’s shoulder and saw Shael slip out of the shadows and creep along the wall toward the entrance.  Impressive stealth, he thought.  To the guard, he shrugged casually.  “I was always in the habit of longer walks back at Meridian when I couldn’t sleep.  I suppose I thought of how far I could go before turning back.”

Shael edged around the corner of the entrance and Fashav watched as she stole down the hall.

“Well, it is a nice night for a walk,” the guard was saying.  “Still, with the march to Meridian coming soon, we want you to be in your best health, sir.”
“Yes, I’ll be on my way.”  Fashav acknowledged.  “Pleasant speaking with you, soldier.  Keep up the good work.”

“And you, sir, thank you.”  The guard shifted back to his post, and Fashav disappeared back into the corridors of the palace.

Once back in his room, Fashav shuffled around the salves and liniments that the healer had been leaving in pots each day.  Fashav could not try to use them all, and had no desire to.  Kotallo on the other hand could certainly use them.  He sniffed at all of them and chose the ones with the least scent to them.  He did not want Kotallo accused of stealing medicine because a guard smelled hintergold.

Pocketing his selections, Fashav moved to the desk where he stored his military travel pack.  Locating some of the rations he kept, he took a small amount and then picked up his water skin, pleased it was still full.

The moon was starting to set, but the Sun was still many hours from rising.  Fashav could return to Kotallo and still get back to bed for some sleep.  He also did not want the healer to think he was not taking his healing journey seriously.  Despite his light load, Fashav’s injuries reminded him that he had been moving around much more than usual, and he was once again on the precipice of overexertion by the time he sneaked past the guard posts and back to the clearing where Kotallo was.

When he emerged from the shadows, Kotallo looked honestly surprised to see him, and Fashav chuckled.

“You truly thought I was not going to come back?”

Surprise turned into a light blush and Kotallo looked away.  “You had no reason to.”

Fashav smiled and knelt next to him.  “Well, I suppose you’re right, but I said I would come back.  I do my best to be a man of my word.”

“Most Carja are men of their word,” Kotallo grumbled.  “Usually their words just mean torture and death though.”  He sighed and shifted in his restraints.

Grimacing, Fashav turned the exchange to more immediate matters.  “I brought a little food and some more water.  I also have something to help with your pain.”  He laid out the dried meat and fruit, the water skin, and two small pots with the salve and liniment.

Fashav started with the food and unwrapped some bread and broke off a bite.  He held it out and let Kotallo take it between his lips.  Fashav remained quiet as he fed Kotallo small bites, alternating between the food and lifting the water skin to him for long drinks.

As Kotallo sat back to rest, Fashav looked around.

"There is no one here," Kotallo said.  "I have been trying to keep watch since your focus is elsewhere."

Fashav cleared his throat, embarrassed at being caught so unaware.  "Thank you.  I am usually better about my surroundings."

Kotallo nodded.  "Indeed.  I imagine even the Carja have standards in promoting someone to a general."  He nodded at the water skin again.  "Another?"

Fashav nodded and tilted the water to his mouth.  "They really have not given you anything, have they?"

Kotallo shook his head.  "They seem to be quite happy to hope that I will starve."  He leaned back again and sighed.  "Thank you.  For somehow being the only Carja who cares about something other than the blasted sun."

Fashav sighed harshly.  "I am sorry you are enduring this, but you are welcome.  It is the very least I can do."

"You know the risk," Kotallo fixed him with a scrutinizing look, his dark eyes searching Fashav’s.  "This is definitely treason.  Why?"

Fashav found he had no real answer.  Of all that he had seen, every other unfortunate soul he had encountered, he had not intervened in this way.  "I suppose, perhaps, because we are here because of the same battle.  You for the Tenakth, me for the Sundom.  Now we are both stuck here."

Kotallo didn't seem convinced about this.  "If that is how you feel."

Fashav mulled on that, feeling that maybe there was some other reason, but unable to put words to it.  “Well, I would like to thank you for what you did when we first met.  You didn’t have to say anything when that guard caught me speaking ill of the Sun King.”

A light blush spread over Kotallo’s cheeks and he dropped Fahsav’s gaze.  “You’re welcome.”

“Why did you bother though?  Why would you help me that way?”

Kotallo’s shoulders had sagged, and he frowned.  “I don’t know.  It felt like the right thing to do.  You had said things I never expected from a Carja.  You seem different from the others.”

An odd, fluttering feeling alighted in his chest, and Fashav flushed.  "Oh.  I see.”  The two men lapsed into an awkward silence, but Fashav cleared his throat.  “May I take care of your back?  I shouldn’t linger too long."

Kotallo was quiet, as if he didn’t hear him, looking troubled and staring at the ground, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

"Kotallo?" Fashav prompted as he hesitated.

Kotallo blinked, took a deep breath and nodded.  "Thank you."

Fashav shifted closer and poured a bit of water into a cloth.  The wounds across Kotallo's shoulders and back were much deeper than Fashav expected.  Perhaps Helis had beat him himself.  Kotallo groaned deeply and it resonated against Fashav's fingers.

"I'm sorry," Fashav murmured.  "This must be painful."

"It's not so bad," Kotallo said quietly.  "I have been through worse."

Fashav frowned, but continued his ministrations as gently as he could.  He uncorked the salve and dotted it over the deepest wounds, then moved to the liniment, spreading it generously over the rest of the area.

“How does that feel?” Fashav asked, replacing the cork in the pot.

Kotallo rolled his shoulders as much as his restraints would allow and nodded, giving Fashav a small, grateful smile.  “Thank you.”

Fashav smiled also, feeling a little charmed at the reluctant gratitude.  “You’re welcome.”

Kotallo glanced away.  “You should probably leave now,” he said.  “I imagine you would not appreciate keeping me company here if you are caught.”

Fashav chuckled and opened the water skin again.  “I suppose I can’t help you or Shael if I’m dead or chained up with you.  Have a little more.” Kotallo accepted the drink and Fashav allowed him to drain it.  “I suppose I will leave you then.”

Kotallo nodded.  “Please watch out for her.”

“I gave my word,” Fashav said.  “I will do my best to ensure no harm comes to her.”

“Walk with the Ten,” Kotallo said.

Fashav figured it was a Tenakth dismissal and a wish for good luck.  He stood and raised a hand to Kotallo.  “May the Sun light your path.”

Kotallo chuckled in exasperation and shook his head.  “Carja and their sun.”

Fashav laughed a little as well.  “I’ll try to come back.”  He wanted to say more, but any other words seemed to stall.  Kotallo was at the mercy of the Carja soldiers, guards, and worst of all, Helis.  All Fashav could do was try to look out for him as best he could.  He turned away and headed back to the shadows of the courtyard.

Before turning the corner, he looked back over his shoulder to see Kotallo still watching him.  His pulse seemed to pick up and Fashav bit his lip, before tucking himself back into the shadows and making his way back to his room.

Fashav awoke at dawn to the singing of the sun priests and he groaned.  If nothing else, he needed to get out of Sunfall otherwise the daily courtyard hymns would drive him out of his mind.  He stretched and scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling much more tired and sore than he would have liked.

His memory called up his interaction with Kotallo from the prior night; the reason he was so tired this morning.  Apparently, his wounds still dictated he needed more rest.  He frowned at the dichotomy between him and Kotallo.  Here he was lounging on a soft bed in want of nothing while Kotallo was chained to a post in the dirt beside the Sun Ring without anything at all.

Fashav grimaced as he recalled the punishments typically meted out for criminals: to be buried up to the neck for the Sun’s judgment.  Kotallo was considered a murderer in their eyes; perhaps this was the best they could do in the circumstances.  He had survived the Sun Ring, but the Sun could still kill him for his crimes against the Sundom.

This thought alone spurred Fashav from his bed and he summoned a servant for more water, who rushed to obey, fetching a full pitcher of water and Fashav’s morning meal, despite the early hour.

Fashav didn’t mind an early breakfast, but ate far less than what was provided, keeping aside the non-perishable food items.  He wanted to sneak any extra to Shael, or even Kotallo if presented with the opportunity.  Fashav finished his meal, dressed, refilled his water skin, and wrapped the slices of dense bread along with some dried fruit in a square of cloth.  He grasped the door handle when a knock sounded on the other side.

Startled, Fashav stepped back, pulling open the door as he did.  “Commander Helis,” he said.  “You’re coming around pretty early.  The Dawning Song to the Sun has barely finished.”

Helis loomed large in the doorway, the healer cowering just behind him.  Helis eyed Fashav with scarcely veiled suspicion and Fashav had a sinking feeling that he knew the reason for his untimely visit.  “I apologize for bothering you so early,” he said.  “I see you are ready to meet the day though.”

“Well, I had hoped to get in a walk around the courtyard,” Fashav lied easily.  “Being bedridden for so long has me feeling the need for at least a little exercise.”

The healer tutted at Helis’ shoulder, but said nothing.

“Yes, of course,” Helis said.  “I won’t keep you for long.  You are on good terms with the men, yes?  I see you speaking with enough of them to know you at least deign to show interest in their well-being.  Have you heard anything about a particular Utaru slave girl?  She came back with the caravan from Barren Light.”

Fashav’s heart was in his throat and felt the stabbing pain in his abdomen again.  He managed to keep his expression in check though, and cocked his head to the side in what he hoped portrayed thoughtfulness.  “Not specifically.  I heard there were a handful of Utaru captives that were brought back the same time I was, but nothing else.”

Helis nodded and entered Fashav’s room without being invited.  Normally, Fashav would be well within his rights to admonish this broach of etiquette, but he kept quiet.  Helis’ icy eyes took in Fashav’s room, and Fashav realized that he had left out the extra water skin and the parcel of food he had intended to take with him.  Of course Helis noticed, but when he turned to face Fashav he didn’t ask.

“Yes, there were a few who came from the west, but one in particular seems to have stood out,” Helis said.  “She seems to be causing some trouble.”
“What type of trouble could an Utaru slave girl cause?” Fashav asked skeptically.

“The type of trouble that would make an otherwise loyal Carja soldier make foolish decisions,” Helis responded.  “I have heard she is quite attractive, for an Utaru, and a fight over her attention has already caused one murder.”

Fashav blinked.  “A fight?  Over a slave?”

Helis nodded.  “Yes.  Recall that the Tenakth barbarian had murdered two of our brethren on the road back here.  One murder was over this slave girl.  I thought it was the end of such trouble, but it seems the soldiers stationed here are noticing her.” He narrowed his eyes on Fashav, making his breath catch under the scrutiny.  “One seemed to think she was cavorting with that barbarian and one of our men last night.  He was jealous and mentioned it to another soldier, who advised his commander.”

“You don’t say?” Fashav asked.  “It seems reckless for a slave to carry on something like that.”

“It is, indeed,” Helis said.  “I would ask you a favor."

Nausea roiled in his gut, but his composure remained.  "Of course."

"Find her," Helis growled, and for the first time, Fashav could see the depths of his fury.  "Find her and bring her to the courtyard at the Sun Ring.  I want her to understand what consequences her actions have."

Cold fingers of dread gripped Fashav's heart, but he simply nodded, inclining his head deferentially.  "It shall be done."

"I will await your arrival," Helis said, his collected facade falling back into place.  He stalked from Fashav's room, leaving only the healer, who tutted at how pale Fashav was.

Clearly the reason was that he had not been resting as prescribed.  Fashav only nodded along, allowing the healer to run through the gamut of checking all of his healing wounds.

"I hope this nastiness is done soon," the healer said as he packed up his pots and bandages.  "Bad for morale."

"Yes, hopefully this will be the end of it," Fashav agreed in a strained voice.

"Will you be all right carrying out the Commander's orders, General?"

Nodding, Fashav waved off the healer's concern.  "An easy assignment to get me back into the swing of things."

The healer looked annoyed and pleased at the same time and exited the room muttering about how fortunate the Sun King was for loyal soldiers.

When his heart had ceased its racing and his feet once again steady beneath him, Fashav left his room and headed to the slave quarters.  He found a different guard at the entrance to the slave quarters and greeted him.

"I have orders from Commander Helis," he said with as much authority as he could muster.  "I'm looking for an Utaru slave."

The guard smirked at him and pointed toward the end of the hall at a half collapsed tent.  "She's there."

Giving the guard a humorless look, he nodded his thanks and made his way through the tents and haunted figures of the Carja captives.  He focused on his breathing, taking measured breaths through his nose, and silently asking the Sun for wisdom.

There could only be two reasons for Helis' request: he would beat Shael, having her lashed as an example and bound with Kotallo; or Helis would have her watch him beat Kotallo to ensure her future subservience.

Shael spotted his approach and smiled sunnily at him.  "Sir, what are you doing here?" She asked warmly.

Fashav swallowed, trying again to calm himself.  They were careening toward disaster, and nothing Fashav could do would stop it.  His mind raced as he tried to imagine what could be done in the wake of it.

"I said I would look out for you," he said, his voice low, and steady.  "You must come with me, and do as I say."

Shael's eyes rounded, and fear crept into her face.  "Sir?" Her voice trembled.

"We will have to endure something, but you must bear it, for all our sakes," Fashav said.  "I will be with you the whole time.  Come."

He extended his arm, and she came to him, letting him guide her back toward the entrance of the quarters.  The guard sneered as they passed and a righteous anger bubbled dangerously to the surface of Fashav's carefully maintained demeanor.

It would help no one if he could not control himself.

It took much less time than it felt to reach the courtyard beside the Sun Ring, and Helis stood with a cluster of soldiers around the post where Kotallo was still bound.  Again, his eyes sighted Fashav's as soon as he came into view, but flicked to Shael in well disguised shock.

Helis' lips stretched over his teeth as he watched them approach.  “Ah, here is our troublemaker.”

Shael recoiled at his tone, but Fashav placed a hand at the middle of her back, preventing any further backstep, and hopefully providing as much support as possible.

Helis approached as one would hunt prey in the wilds, his pale eyes fixed dangerously forward.  “You will see what your actions cause,” Helis said, running a finger over her chin.  He chuckled as she whimpered in terror.

“Take your hand off her, Carja!” Kotallo bellowed from behind him.

This was apparently the reaction Helis had wanted, as he smirked at Shael.  “You will see what your actions cause,” he repeated and unhooked a coiled whip from his belt.

Helis turned to Kotallo, and Fashav leaned close to Shael’s ear.  “Be strong.  We both must face this challenge.”

Tears were already wetting her cheeks as she understood what was about to happen, but she nodded, and Fashav moved the hand on her back to around waist, settling his hand on her arm.  Ostensibly, it would appear he was restraining her, but he hoped she would be able to take comfort that he was with her.

Helis cracked the whip in the air, as if getting a feel for it.  “Barbarian, you humiliated me at the Sun Ring.  You will suffer for it.”

Kotallo snarled as if ready to rise to a challenge and Helis grinned.  He raised the whip and brought it forward with a mighty grunt.

Fashav almost turned away as blood immediately splattered onto the ground as the whip tore into Kotallo’s shoulders.  If Shael had to endure, so would he.  He rubbed his thumb gently against the back of her arm as she shook with quiet sobs.

Helis’ strength was unparalleled in the ranks of the Sun King, and Fashav wondered if the whip would give out before he was finished.  Kotallo bore under the lashes as stoically as he could, but blood and sweat soon coated his back as long wounds opened up with each strike.

In a moment of respite as Helis readjusted his grip on the whip, Kotallo glared up at him, his voice still strong and defiant between heaving breaths.  “You are a coward.  Is the only way to defeat your enemies by subduing them first?  You cannot face them with honor?”

Groaning almost too loudly, Fashav tried to keep his expression neutral.  After all this, he was provoking the Stacker of Corpses?

“You believe you can beat me in direct combat?” Helis asked, his voice smooth and dangerous.  “I am a noble servant to the Sun.  A heathen to challenge me would be an insult.”

Kotallo didn’t flinch and didn’t back down.  “Unchain me and fight if the battle is already decided.”

Helis considered, but dropped the whip and nodded at two guards, who scurried to obey the silent command.  The chains dropped away and Kotallo rubbed at the raw skin around his wrists briefly before rolling his shoulders and rising.  He was unsteady after being bound on his knees for so long, but faced Helis as if the challenge was fair.

Helis cracked his knuckles, then his neck, and a terrible excitement reflected behind the smile he leveled at Kotallo.

Taking this as the beginning, Kotallo struck out, launching at Helis with a cry.  Helis dodged the incoming blow and tripped Kotallo, who stumbled to the ground.  Helis turned back, a smile on his face, ready to gloat an easy victory, but Kotallo lunged back to his feet and caught Helis across the jaw with his left fist.  Helis staggered back in surprise, catching himself on the post.

“You dare-”

Kotallo’s cry cut him off as he attacked again, throwing Helis off balance again.  Another punch landed on Helis’ right side this time, and Helis staggered again.  Fashav saw the rage in Helis’ eyes as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and onto his armor.  As large as Kotallo was, Helis was larger still.  Helis relied on his brute strength to win contests such as this, and Fashav hoped that Kotallo, with his own strength and keen mind, would be a match for him.

A soldier approached, but Helis shoved him away, his eyes locked on Kotallo.

“Filthy vermin,” he said with a snarl.  “I will wipe you from the Sun’s sight!”

Fashav flinched as Helis took a mighty swing at Kotallo, who was not quite able to dodge, and Helis’ knuckles grazed his jaw.  He regained his footing and avoided the next swing, delivering a punch to the underside of Helis’ jaw.  Blood trailed now from his mouth and nose, but Helis stayed up.  He had not risen to his position by having others do his strenuous work after all.

He also had not risen to his position by playing by any particular set of rules, and Fashav knew, even if Kotallo could best Helis in this type of fight, that Helis would still win.  Helis turned to the guard who had tried to approach him and pulled his spear from him, turning and swinging it in a wide arc at Kotallo’s shoulder.  The unexpected appearance of a weapon caught Kotallo off guard, but he ducked beneath it just in time, and used his new position to dash forward, once again closing the distance between them.

He seized Helis’ armor and all but threw him backward.  With a roar, Helis went down, flat on his back, the spear bouncing out of his palm. Before Kotallo could step forward to lay into Helis again, two guards set upon him.

Taken by surprise, Kotallo went down to the dust as the soldiers piled on top of him, subduing his struggle.

“Back to the post with him!” Helis gestured violently at the two soldiers as he rose back to his feet.

The soldiers yanked Kotallo from the ground, who began fighting against them as soon as his feet were back on the ground, and the soldiers heaved his back up against the whipping post.

Despite the wind having been knocked from him, Kotallo still struggled against the guards, but they wrenched his arms backward further, until Kotallo stilled, no longer able to fight them and breathe at the same time.

Kotallo seethed as Helis strode forward.  “You honorless coward.  You are a disgrace.”

Helis stared down coldly before delivering a forceful punch to Kotallo’s stomach.  He stepped away as the guards dropped Kottalo’s arms from the force of the blow, shaking out his fist.  Kotallo dropped to the ground in a heap, retching bile into the dirt at Helis’ feet.

“Remember this lesson, heathen,” Helis spoke.  “You are worth less than nothing.  The Sun will burn you away, and perhaps find solace in the ashes left behind.”

Still shaking and trying to regain his breath, Kotallo struggled upright again and made to stand, but Helis stepped back to punch him again, hitting him in the temple, sending him back into the dirt, unconscious.  At Helis’ nod, the soldiers seized Kotallo’s arms and bound his wrists to the post once more.

Shael trembled against Fashav’s arm, but kept her flinching at bay when Helis turned his wicked smile to her.  “You see?  Try to cause less trouble.  The Sun King is not as generous as I.”  He met Fashav’s eyes.  “Take her back to the slave quarters.”

Fashav felt himself nod, and pushed gently at Shael until she took a stumbling step forward.  “Let’s go,” he whispered.  “Just a little more.”

Fashav felt Helis’ eyes on them the whole way out of the courtyard, and he fought back a chill.  He was relieved that both he and Shael kept what remained of their respective composure through the palace walks and past the guard at the slave quarters.

Shael waved a shaking hand toward her tent and Fashav eased her down to sit in front of it.  Her eyes looked up at him hollowly, tears still shining on her cheeks, and he knelt down to her.

“Sir…”

“Are you all right?” He asked softly and took her hand in both of his.  “Please know that none of this was your fault.”

“But it was,” she murmured.  “He fought that guard for me when we were on our way here.  And now this, just because I tried to help him.”

Fashav shook his head.  “Please don’t do this to yourself.  You are not in control of anyone’s actions but your own.”

Shael’s eyes widened and she looked at him.  “Sir, you could be next.”

Fashav hushed her, casting his eyes down the hall toward the guard, thanking the Sun that he was busy joking with another guard on patrol.  “I will be fine.  I have a certain protection that Helis cannot ignore.  There is nothing he can do to me for now.”  He sighed and checked their surroundings again.  “Where were you from, Shael?”

She frowned at the sudden change of topic, but responded.  “I hail from Stone’s Echo.  It is very close to Barren Light.”

Fashav nodded.  “I know it.  The easternmost Utaru settlement.  I suppose that could work though.”

“Work for what, sir?” Shael asked, her head tilting to one side.

“I think I have an idea,” Fashav said.  “Please stay to yourself as much as possible.  Do not worry about Kotallo or me.  I will find you again soon.”

He patted her hand again and gave her a warm smile, which she returned, seemingly comforted for a moment.  He rose and nodded a silent farewell to her, and headed back out of the slave quarters.  An idea had taken root, and now he was certain it would be his best shot at ensuring both of his new charges stayed alive.  It was high risk, and would spell his death for sure if he was caught, but it would be worth it.

He had seen Vanasha floating around the palace, and she liked people owing her favors, especially from the more highborn of the Sundom.  If anyone could help Shael and Kotallo escape back to the Forbidden West, it would be her.

Fashav had managed to catch Vanasha’s eye before the evening meal.  It was not difficult, as the woman had eyes like the Sunhawk.  He took a walk onto the grand balcony, knowing she would join him.  He heard steps behind him just as an appreciative hand ran over his bicep.

“Why, General Fashav,” Vanasha purred, coming around to lean her back against the balcony railing beside him.  “Is it just me, or have you gotten even more handsome since I saw you last?”

Fashav chuckled at her casual flirting.  “I very much doubt it.  Battle, I find, does not agree with me.”
“Well it agrees with all these muscles you have.”  Her hand slid from his arm to his chest, where it paused and she frowned.  “I suppose battle does hide your physique under all of these bandages.”

“A minor inconvenience for you,” Fashav said with a smile.

Vanasha returned the smile and turned toward the balcony overlooking the Sun Ring.  Her countenance darkened as her eyes set upon Kotallo’s bound form in the courtyard there, but was all smiles again when she turned back to him.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“All business, Vanasha?”  Fashav teased as he crossed his arms over his chest.  “But you’re right, I have an immense favor to ask.”

That sparked interest in her dark brown eyes, and she canted her head, expecting him to go on.

“There are two slaves who came in with us from the Frobidden West.  I would like to ask for your help in getting them back.”

Vanasha’s eyebrows disappeared under her headdress and she almost gaped at him.  “Unyielding one, certainly you understand what you’re asking.”

Fashav nodded solemnly.

“It’s a tall order asking for one,” she said, her eyes searching his own.  “And you want two?”

Fashav spread his hands in supplication.  “Can it be done?”

Vanasha mulled over his request and looked back into the courtyard of the Sun Ring.  “One of them is the Tenakth, and the other is the Utaru who started this nonsense?”

Fashav smiled.  “However did you know?”

Vanasha tutted at him.  “A proper lady never reveals her sources.”

“Of course,” Fashav nodded.  “My apologies.”

Vanasha graciously waved him off, before sighing.  “I’m afraid the best I can do is one.” She leveled her discerning gaze at him again.  “The Sun King’s amplification of spreading the Sun’s light to the far reaches of our lands has…  Caused a considerable increase in concern from those otherwise willing to assist in these matters.”  She placed her hand on his arm.  “It would be the best I could do to guarantee the outcome you wish.”

Fahsav’s breath left him in a great puff of disappointment, but nodded and patted her hand before she drew back.  “I understand.  It will have to do.”

Vanasha cast her eyes back to Kotallo’s dark form in the distance.  “I imagine you will ask for the Utaru girl?”  She paused a beat for him to deny it, but at his silence she nodded.  “If anyone can survive the great Commander’s attention, it would be a Tenakth.  His odds are better.”  She turned her eyes back to Fashav.  “I’d expect you to watch out for him though.  Like you have been?”

A rush of warmth to Fashav’s face alerted him belatedly that he should have refuted her question much sooner.  “I don’t know what you mean.”

She smiled dangerously.  “Little Fashav, do you still not understand that I have ears everywhere?”  The smile fell away then and she inclined a shoulder in nonchalance.  “There’s no need to worry.  I have no interest in seeing you suffer because you have the audacity to treat someone with respect and dignity.”  She smiled up at him.  “You are a good man, Fashav.  I like the idea of you owing me a favor, but it’ll be minor.  This is a noble thing you want to do, and a very high risk for someone like yourself.”

Fashav reached forward and clasped her hand, pleased that the normally unflappable courtier-cum-spy blushed a little.  “Thank you for your help, Vanasha.”

Vanasha shook her head, as if to scold him for his honest gratitude.  “It will take a bit of time to arrange passage, especially to the Forbidden West.  I know the march to Meridian is in four days, so there isn’t a lot of time.  I can be ready in three, two if the Sun is with us.”

“May the Sun guide your way,” Fashav bowed to her.

She smiled and winked at him and swept from the balcony and away into the night.

Fashav let out a long breath, feeling relief for the first time in days.  He would have to alert Shael surreptitiously, and make sure she stayed out of trouble.  The last thing he needed was for her to accidentally look at the wrong soldier and get herself strung up to the post in the courtyard with Kotallo; or worse, thrown into the Sun Ring.

He sorely hated the idea that he could not spare Kotallo after all he had been through, but he knew that Shael would not last if ever she was put into the Sun Ring.  Kotallo had already shown he could best anyone Helis threw at him.  Taking a last look at the slumped form at the foot of the whipping post, Fashav headed back toward his room, taking a rather circuitous route as he made to avoid contact with anyone roaming the halls.

“General Fashav?”

The healer’s voice stopped Fashav in his tracks.  He had been so close to the stairs that led up to the corridor leading to his room.  He grimaced, but had a smile on when he turned to greet the other man.

“You’re out awfully late, general,” he observed in displeasure.

“I apologize, I needed a little fresh air after all the excitement today.” Fashav hoped it would satisfy the healer’s inquiry, and was rewarded when the healer nodded.

“I understand, sir,” he said, sighing.  “You know what they’ve asked me to do?  See to that…Tenakth’s wounds!”  He bemoaned and Fashav fought the instinctive eye roll at his dramatics.  “I can hardly stand to look at him, and they want me to treat him.”

Fashav nodded in feigned sympathy.

“I just cannot understand it,” the healer continued.  “Why waste our precious medical supplies on a slave that will likely die on the march to Holy Meridian anyway?”

“It is the Commander’s hope that he survives to provide strong, dutiful service to His Radiance,” Fashav said.

The bemoaning continued.  “But am I truly the only healer here?  Why did I not bring along my apprentice so he could take care of that loathsome creature?”

Fashav bristled at the insult.  Kotallo had been an ideal patient for him, and the memory of working salve into the torn and bruised skin on his back almost caught him by surprise.  “If you’d prefer not to sully your hands,” Fashav began, thanking the Sun his voice was steady and ambivalent.  “I have training in field medicine.  I can do this for you.”

The healer boldly clasped Fashav’s forearm in his soft hand, looking at him as if he had come down from the Sun itself.  “General Fashav!  Would you do something like this?”  He shook his head then and released his grasp.  “No, no.  You are too noble, too blessed by the Sun.  I cannot impose upon you like that.”

“Please, there is no imposition,” Fashav said, shrugging.  “It has been some time since I last needed my skills.” He smirked at the healer.  “My clumsy attempts to refresh my memory would be better made on a slave such as that, than an honorable soldier to the Sun King, hm?”

The healer clutched his hands over his heart.  “General, you are truly blessed by the Sun.  Does your generosity know no bounds?”

If only the sorry poltroon knew.

The healer had already started to hand over some of his pots, and a water skin with a few cloths.

“This should suffice,” he was saying.  “As I said, we cannot waste too many of our supplies on him.”  His nose wrinkled in disgust.  “I wish I had gloves for you so you would not have to defile your noble hands, general.”

Fashav forced a smile.  “Fear not.  I have had plenty of enemy blood spilled on them in the name of the Sun.  I’m sure I will make it out just fine.”

“You are a braver man than I, sir,” the healer said reverently.  “I take my leave then, and you have my eternal thanks.”

Once the healer was out of sight, Fashav let himself groan aloud and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  “May the Sun give me strength,” he implored quietly as he set off in the direction of the Sun Ring.

With an official purpose of seeing to the prisoner on the healer’s behalf, Fashav did not need to dodge patrols or conceal the supplies in his arms, but was questioned when Lucent Bahavas came upon him.

“Where are you going so late at night with those supplies, General?”  He asked, pearing shrewdly at Fashav from between the drapes of burgundy fabric over his face.

Fashav nodded reverently to the high priest.  “The healer had asked for assistance treating a slave for his injuries.”
“That Tenakth?”  Bahavas spit out the word, his face contorting with contempt.

Fashav’s chin bowed lower.  “Yes, high priest.  Commander Helis-”

“Yes, yes, I know Commander Helis disciplined that barbarian earlier,” Bahavas interrupted.  “He truly ordered the treatment of his wounds?  Perhaps he needs to confer with the Sun further.”  Bahavas shook his head in disgust.  “Commander Helis is growing soft.  That Uthid has been in his ear when he should only listen to the Sun.”

Or listen to Bahavas, more like, Fashav thought with a frown.

Bahavas considered Fashav silently, and finally scoffed, waving a gloved hand.  “Go, General.  You would not have these medical supplies had the healer not given them to you for this task.  I will speak with Commander Helis.”

“Thank you, High Priest.”  Fashav bowed a little deeper than strictly necessary and hurried on his way.

When he turned into the courtyard, he smiled as his eyes met Kotallo’s.  He crossed the courtyard silently, and knelt down next to the bound man, laying out the supplies carefully.  He looked up at Kotallo who watched him with silent concern.

“I’m here to help,” Fashav offered.  “I’ve been blessed with the official request from the healer, who could not stand to think of coming within a Burrower’s throw of you.”

Kotallo snorted and shook his head.  “Are all Carja cowards?” He asked, but with little venom.

“Come now, I’ve shown myself to be a little upstanding,” Fashav chided.

“Present company excluded then,” Kotallo allowed with an inclination of his head.

Fashav grinned.  “It’s very likely that the Carja are all cowards.  I find the more power people draw around them, the less able they are to comport themselves if it comes down to an altercation.”

“That is likely true no matter which tribe you come from.”

Fashav’s eyes glanced over Kotallo’s body, noting the blood, dirt, and grime had not been touched at all, and thought the quantity of water he had would not go nearly as far as it should.

“How are you doing?” Fashav asked.  “You went through quite a lot this morning.”

Kotallo sighed, and his gaze dropped to the dirt.  “I am glad nothing else happened.”

“Meaning?”

Kotallo shifted and winced at the tug on formed scabs.  “When I saw the two of you come into the courtyard, I thought for sure one or both of you would be executed.”
Fashav nodded and uncorked the water skin and doused one of the cloths.  “I am also glad that Shael was not put through worse.  She was quite an emotional wreck as it was when I got her back to her quarters.  She thinks this is all because of her.”

“By the Ten,” Kotallo muttered.  “I helped her because I wanted to.  I provoked that commander because I could not take his craven behavior.”

Kotallo hissed as Fashav laid the wet cloth across his shoulders.  Beneath the scabs and wounds, his skin was sunburned a bright red and radiating heat.  Fashav worked the cloth over his wounds as gently as possible, but was still unsurprised that many were reopening.

“I did try to tell her she had no part in how everything happened.”  Fashav wrung out the cloth, grimacing as the water ran pink with fresh blood.  He wet the cloth again and placed it on Kotallo’s temple where a large bruise had formed from Helis’ final blow.  A low groan rattled in Kotallo’s chest and he leaned into the coolness of the cloth.

Fashav found himself wishing the march to Meridian was the next day so that they could be rid of Helis that much sooner.  Helis predominantly stayed at Sunfall with his Kestrels, and being without his cruel influence would be welcome.  He pulled the cloth away when he felt it had warmed, and poured more water onto it.  Running it over the rest of Kotallo’s face seemed to bring him further relief as he sighed deeply.

“I want to let you know,” Fashav began, as he went back to cleaning the dust and debris from his wounds.  “I have asked a…friend of mine to see about safe passage for Shael back to Utaru lands.”

Kotallo’s head jerked to him, eyes narrowed in suspicion, or perhaps disbelief.

Fashav shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance, setting down the cloth and busying himself with the pots of cream and salve.  “She should be safely back amongst her people by the time you and I get to Meridian.”  He spread a generous amount of a disinfectant salve on the deeper wounds and worked it then over his back and up his arms.  “Believe me or not, but she should be smuggled away from here the day prior to the march east.”

Kotallo’s shoulders relaxed a little, and he sighed.  “You have been true to your word so far, and have given me no reason to doubt your sincerity.  You are a very reckless man.”

Fashav chuckled.  “I have been told that before.  It's part of the reason they call me 'unyielding'."

“Why are you doing this?” Kotallo looked at him again, deep frown lines etching his face.  “What are your intentions?”

He didn’t look especially angry, but Fashav could discern the confusion and frustration in his deep brown eyes.  Fashav sighed and frowned.  “I…  I know that I was foolish to think one man could make a difference in the Sun King’s bloody ambitions, and I failed at Barren Light in every way.  I suppose, I want to at least try to make something right.  To make a difference for at least one person.”

Fashav watched the dust beneath his knees despondently.  All the bloodshed and atrocities befalling the border tribes, and here he was: the best he could do was try to help one slave escape.  A single dapple of sunlight among shadows.

“Well, I think you have made a difference to at least two.”

Fashav glanced up to see Kotallo’s lips curled upward in a soft smile, and he felt an unfamiliar warmth settle in his chest.  He tentatively smiled back and then looked away.  He busied himself cleaning up the healer’s accouterments.  “It truly is the least I can do.”

“Fashav, the least you can do is what every other Carja has done: nothing.”  Kotallo’s words were bitter, but there was weary acceptance to them.  “I don’t know anything about you, except that you are a general, but I have heard enough to think you have a lot to lose should you be caught doing any of this.”

Fashav frowned.  He had purposely been ignoring thoughts of what would happen to him if he were caught showing this type of sympathy to enemies of the Sundom.  And to arrange for a slave to escape?  Not even Fashav’s father would be able to sway Jiran’s wrath.

Kotallo remained silent, observing Fashav as he struggled to put the worst thoughts from his mind.  Finally, Fashav took a breath and looked back up at Kotallo.  “I have no desire for the Sun King’s favor.  If this is what I can do, then it is what I will do.  No matter what happens to me.”

“It’s reckless.  You have no reason to help her, or me for that matter.”

“What are you trying to get from me?” Fashav frowned at Kotallo.  “I have given you my answer.  Is it not enough for you?”

Kotallo frowned in return.  “You have risked your life for strangers.  We are your enemies.”

“You’re not,” Fashav hissed, his anger starting to get the better of him.  “I don’t see you as an enemy.  I don’t see an enemy in a person just because they are from a different tribe.” Fashav said, his voice low and harsh between them.  He spread his hands, looking forlornly at his palms, his guilt painting them red with the blood of all his failure.  He clenched them again and let his eyes close.  “I just want peace.”

Kotallo sighed after a moment of silence.  His voice was soft and rumbling when he spoke again.  “Peace…  Can it ever be achieved between our people?  With one side having vengeance roaring in their blood, and the other with zealotry driving them on?”

“It is a lot to ask.”  Fashav nodded in acknowledgement.  “Years of war and brutality cannot easily be overcome.  I still feel that I cannot be the only one who doesn’t want this war.  This bloodbath.”

“You are not.”

Fashav looked up to meet Kotallo’s eyes, startled.  A Tenakth who wanted peace?  Despite knowing it was his ingrained prejudice, Fashav had not thought that there were any of the Tenakth who could fathom peace.  Violence was all they knew, according to the scribes and raiders in the west, and he had certainly met only violence in the raids he had led.  This Tenakth before him shared his idea of peace between their people?

He offered a tentative smile.  “Well, there’s two of us then.”

Kotallo nodded and dropped Fashav’s gaze, but Fashav could still see the corners of his lips turning slightly upward in a shy smile.  He nodded again and cleared his throat.  “Have you told Shael your plan, by the way?”

Fashav took a breath, and looked over his shoulders into the palace grounds.  “I thought it might be best to not say anything until it’s time,” he said.  He tipped the water skin back to Kotallo’s lips and helped him drink the last of the water.

Kotallo nodded after he had taken his fill.  “That is likely for the best.  She is no fighter.”

“You can certainly say that again,” Fashav chuckled.  “I’m not sure how everything is going to happen, but I hope you stay out of trouble for a little while.  You might be on your own until we leave for Meridian.”

Kotallo scoffed.  “I cannot make any promises.”

Fashav shook his head, but found himself smiling.  “Of course.  What kind of Tenakth would you be if you didn’t rise to a challenge?”

“Shameful.”  Kotallo agreed with a wry grin.

“I should get going.  The healer will need his things back.”  Fashav gestured back into the palace.

Kotallo looked up to him again.  “Thank you for your kindness, Fashav.”

Feeling warm suddenly, Fashav just nodded and gathered the pots and water skins.  The items bundled in his arms, he stood.  “Good luck.  I will try to come back.”

Kotallo raised an eyebrow.  “You should try to stay out of trouble too.”

“I cannot make any promises.”  Fashav shrugged, and laughed when Kotallo shook his head.

A light breeze picked up through the courtyard and Fashav looked up toward the half-cloaked moon in the clear night sky.  He sighed and wondered if there would ever be a time they would know peace.  He let out a long breath, and looked back at Kotallo, who had apparently been watching him as he pondered.

“Goodnight, Kotallo,” he said quietly.  Kotallo nodded silently to him and Fashav turned away, striding from the courtyard with as much authority as he could muster.

The guards making their rounds acknowledged him respectfully, and he returned their greetings as he worked his way to the healer’s room.

The healer answered after a moment.  “General!”  He clasped his hands together and beamed at Fashav.  “You’re looking well.  Despite that…  Terrible chore you had to endure.”

Settling the pots and water skin into the healer’s arms, Fashav nodded.  “It was a test from the Sun, that is for sure.”

“You have done well by His Radiance, and the Sun, General,” the healer assured him.  “Go in Light, sir.”

Fashav bowed slightly and departed, heading back to his quarters as quickly as possible.  A sort of unsettled feeling had begun to grow within him; a gnawing pain that ate at him like metalbite.  He let himself fall onto the bed once ensconced in his room again, and clutched his abdomen against the ache.  He had just set in motion a scheme that would ensure his execution, familial connection to the Sun King or no.  Was he truly out of his mind?

Vanasha would be working her magic at this hour of the night, establishing means and opportunity for a slave with Helis’ attention to escape without notice.  Fashav clenched his fist over his abdomen as the pain stabbed through him again.  The last time this pain had kept him awake was when he was positioned with the Army of the Setting Sun at the edges of the Daunt.  Their first raid was the following day, and Fashav had not known what he would do to stem the worst impulses of his soldiers.  He had failed again and again, despite his intentions; did he honestly believe he would succeed now?

Groaning, Fashav turned onto his side.  His wounds from Barren Light were still healing, and he had certainly been more active than advisable considering.  Fatigue weighed heavily on his eyes, but sleep flitted away each time he tried to capture it.

Could he truly assist in orchestrating Shael’s escape?

What would happen if he was caught doing so?

What would happen to Shael?

Or Vanasha?

If they were caught, they were as good as dead too, along with anyone Vanasha finagled into her service for this venture.  Rolling again, Fashav lay face down now and breathed deeply into the soft cloth of his pillow.

“May the Sun light my path,” he implored, mumbling the words against the pillow.  “Have I done right by them?  By you?  It is mercy I want for them.  It is not the blood you seem to tell Jiran to spill to sate your rage.”

He groaned.  Now what was he doing?  He hadn’t seriously prayed to the Sun ever since the derangement and shift in Jiran’s rule from vaguely unstable king to cruel tyrant.  Why would he look to a god that had no mercy left?

The sharp pain stabbed through Fashav’s stomach again and he curled back onto his side.  He let his eyes unfocus and stared glumly out of his window.  He wondered what gods the Tenakth prayed to, or if they even worshipped gods.  A violent tribe such as they, perhaps the Tenakth knew nothing of love and kindness, so why would they have a need for any god to look down upon them with favor?

The Utaru worshipped the cycle of life and the harbingers of it, their Land Gods.  A rather vague concept around which to construct a tribe, but at this point, it was better than the rituals to a death god and the fanaticism it wrought.
The Banuk sang their songs to the Blue Light from machines, derangement or not.  The Nora had their mountain to be their bedrock.

Was it only the Sun who was angered?  Were no other tribes worried about their place in a more dangerous world?

Fashav’s eyes finally drifted closed, and he wondered if there would ever be peace again.