“How many?” Vir asked. “How many Gargans perished?”
Janani looked away. “I am unsure. I wasn’t—”
“And what would you do, knowing that number?” Greesha said, stepping into the orphanage. Heavy bags shadowed her eyes, and she looked utterly exhausted. With her Ruler Calling, Vir could guess how busy she’d been, managing and directing both Gargans and Chitrans during this crisis.
“I must know,” Vir said.
“Why? So you can go on a guilt trip for not having saved everyone?” Greesha admonished. “So you can hate yourself for not being perfect?”
“I…” Vir had no words. Greesha was exactly right. That was exactly what he would do.
“Such arrogance!” Gresha said, echoing Cirayus’ words. “Thinking anyone can be perfect! Ha! Let alone a whelp with barely a decade of experience under his belt! Arrogance… and hubris.”
Vir looked away, ashamed.
“Listen to me, son. Nobody. And I mean, nobody in this Ash damned city expected you to drive off that entire horde on your own. It’s ludicrous. Insanity! Even Cirayus would’ve struggled with that, and he has four long centuries of life to aid him! Listen to Janani. She’s far wiser than you’ll ever be.”
Janani worked on treating Bolin and pretended not to hear.
“What you did was a miracle,” Greesha repeated. “Do you understand?”
Vir ground his teeth. “How many?”
Greesha’s face fell. Her words hadn’t gotten through. “About twenty dead. Fifty more injured. We won’t have accurate figures for a few days, most probably.”
“I see,” Vir said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Who were they?”
“Half rebels. The others… well, either they couldn’t get to a shelter in time, or they chose not to. Those I wouldn’t worry about. Not even the gods can cure idiocy.”
“Any Chitran?” Vir asked.
“You already know that answer. Don’t you?” Greesha said.
“I suppose I do,” Vir said bitterly, leaving the orphanage building.
Not a single Chitran would have perished. While Vir took no pleasure in death, it meant the Chitran guards had forsaken their duty. Just as the rebels said they would. They’d hidden safely within the Keep, sacrificing innocent civilians to the horde.
This has to change.
Yet, as desperately as Vir wanted a coup, now was not the time. Rebelling now would only result in terrible bloodshed, and the ones to suffer the most would be the ones he was trying to save.
But things couldn’t stand as they were.
“Where are you going?” Greesha asked.
Vir donned his featureless black mask.
“To ensure their deaths weren’t in vain.”
31A NEW CALLING
“’Tis simple,” a Chitran general said, slamming his palms down on a centuries-old wooden conference table. “We deny the legitimacy of this Vaak’s claim.”
“If only it were that simple,” Governor Asuman said. “I’m afraid the existence of the tablet I signed complicates matters significantly.”
The general scoffed. “Bah, so what if he has a tablet? Who will he complain to? Raja Matiman himself?”
His words earned him chuckles and muted laughter from around the table.
“No,” Asuman said, “but he could use that tablet to incite an insurrection. The Gargans may not be rebelling just yet, but word of Vaak’s feats will soon spread, and when it does, they will feel empowered. Perhaps even empowered enough to revolt.”
“Your fears are unfounded. They will fail,” said the general.
“Nevertheless, they may very well see fit to try, and that would cause sufficient damage of its own. Never underestimate the madness of crowds.”
“What of the Ravager?” another general asked. “I admit, that was not a face I was expecting to see after a decade and a half of absence.”
“Yes, that is a problem as well,” Asuman said, stroking the fur on his wide chin. “Vaak not only has the support of the Iksana but also the Ravager—and by extension, the Baira. I fear we may have no recourse but to honor the agreement. At least for now. I wish I had not so casually signed that tablet.”
“Who could have expected this? Alas, I never expected him to survive, let alone defeat the entire horde on his own. When was the last time this realm witnessed such a feat?”
“We are not here to extol the virtues of this Gargan sympathizer,” another general said, his eyebrows twitching. “We are here to devise a solution out of this mess.”
“The solution is simple,” Vir said, throwing open the room’s double doors and waltzing in with every bit of gusto he could muster. “You listen to your governor. You honor the pact, and nobody has to get hurt.”
Vir’s entry bought him the results he’d hoped for. A few generals knocked their seats back in panic, while others gripped their chair handles as if their lives depended on it. Their tails all wagged madly, and some even made very monkey-like hooting sounds.
Despite his best efforts, Vir was unable to suppress a smirk at their reactions, though it was hidden under his featureless black mask.
Using his most powerful voice, he addressed the governor.
“Governor Asuman, I’m afraid the tablet you so regret signing has already been copied dozens of times. By now, it will have reached the hands and hearts of Gargans well across the city. As such, should you renege on our agreement in any way, I fear a rebellion will be all but guaranteed. And while I am sure your guards could suppress a normal insurrection, do remember that I personally slaughtered hundreds of Ash Beasts on my own. And that, as you have already mentioned, I bear the support of both the Iksana and the Baira—and will be leading said rebellion myself.”
A heavy silence fell across the room.
“Your regime will fall, Asuman, should you fail to keep your end of the bargain.”
Vir was playing a dangerous game, invoking the name of the Iksana. It was only a matter of time before his lie was exposed. And yet, it was still a game worth playing. If Asuman agreed to the terms set out by the contract and gave all Callings equal rights—abolishing the Outcast Calling—he’d have a far worse rebellion on his hands if he were ever stupid enough to revoke it.
The ruse need only last until Asuman signed the mandate into law. After that, it would matter little if he learned he’d been lied to. Besides, even if the Iksana’s backing was a lie, the Bairans’ certainly was not. Cirayus’ assistance on the battlefield proved that beyond a shred of a doubt.
“Perhaps you’d like to hear the Ravager’s proclamation from his own mouth?” Vir asked, nodding to the corner.
Asuman frowned. “What do you mean—?”
The four-armed half-giant demon threw open the door and strode through, ducking under the too-small doorway.
“Don’t tell me you were about to have a clandestine meeting without me, were you?” Cirayus was followed by an entourage of four Kothis, all of whom bowed repeatedly before Asuman, proffering their sincerest apologies.
“Apparently, they’d been given orders to keep me out.” Cirayus grinned.
Naïve of them to think they could stop him, Vir thought, pitying the poor guards. They were lucky Cirayus was in a good mood. The demon may have been as fearsome as a stuffed Ash’va to his friends, but he was utterly ruthless to those he deemed his enemy. Vir had seen ample evidence of that side of his godfather in the Ash.
Governor Asuman’s face, which, until now, had been screwed up in an expression of intense concentration, regarded the Ravager with uncertainty. Finally, his shoulders slumped, and he shook his head.
“No, Ravager. Of course not. I was just about to commit to the agreement I made with the esteemed Warrior of Ash, here.”