Something was off, though, like incorrect shading of a sunset. The Viper was known to leave little trinkets, all with the trademark double snakes.
But his own whip? The whips that had come to define him? Why leave one of those behind?
“This Viper—the coward who has destroyed our ships, killed good soldiers, taken back land we had won—deserves a reckoning. So I have a mission for you four soldiers. It won’t be easy,” Commander Panak said. “You have each been handpicked to represent your regiment. Whoever finds the murderer, this Viper, will be named the next commander of the Fort and will lead the next generation of soldiers—if you choose to accept.”
Kunal’s heartbeat quickened. This was what his uncle had wanted for Kunal, and had been pushing him toward, since he had come to the Fort as a shy eight-year-old. It would be dangerous but also an opportunity. One he wouldn’t get otherwise.
Uncle Setu had been a hard man, but he had taken Kunal in and had shown him a new life when his old one had fallen to pieces. That was worth the weight of a thousand suns. He owed his uncle his life.
As a last act of gratitude to the man who had raised him, he would do this. Kunal would find the coward who had murdered his uncle and bring him back here to pay for his actions. It was a jewel on top that he could also become commander, the very thing his uncle had wanted so desperately for him.
“You will all take the guise of being part of a larger counter-resistance task force, but you will be able to act and pursue the Viper independently. Your only requirement for this mission is to check in every week at a nearby garrison. If you miss two check-ins, you’ll be deemed out of action.”
Kunal tried not to show his surprise. That meant the mission would be wholly theirs—to plan and to execute.
“Retrieve the Viper within the next two moons, and come back as commander.” Kunal looked at the others, waiting for the catch. “Fail to capture the Viper, allow another soldier to capture the Viper first, and you will face a punishment, determined by the new commander and me. This is no normal mission, so the reward and punishment can’t be either.”
Kunal blanched, realizing this could mean he’d lose his promotion to the Senap Guard. Or worse, if Rakesh became commander. He swallowed his unease. He didn’t plan to lose.
The commander swept his gaze across the four soldiers in front of him. “I’m giving you ample time. You have two moons before the start of the Sun Mela.”
Kunal wondered why the Mela, their biennial games celebrating Naria’s defeat of the Lord of Death, had been chosen as the date. He didn’t have time to think on it too much as the commander looked straight at Kunal.
“Kunal Dhagan.” He looked up at the sound of his name, his surname the only nod to his mother’s family that his uncle had let him keep. “You’re not officially a Senap yet, but I asked that you, as the nephew of the general, would represent them in this mission.” His voice softened, though his expression didn’t. “This will be a thankless task. I won’t think less of any who ask to leave now.”
Kunal’s gaze didn’t stray. This was expected of him; the commander had said as much. He could entertain doubts later.
The other soldiers seemed to be thinking the same, but they had less cause to stay. If they left, it wouldn’t be a blot on their family’s honor. It wasn’t their duty to find the killer.
Kunal looked over at Laksh, whose mouth was set in a determined line, and felt a surge of gratitude, even if this meant they would eventually become competitors. He was the only other soldier he’d be happy to lose to.
“Start out in the morning, soldiers. You may work together but don’t forget, whoever comes back with the Viper is my new commander.” He looked around at each of them, locking eyes with Kunal in particular.
Kunal set his jaw. This was his chance to become commander, lead the Fort, and honor his uncle. His uncle wouldn’t be alive to see it, but he knew this was what he would’ve wanted for him.
“For the glory of the king!” Commander Panak yelled, and the soldiers slapped their chests in response, repeating his words with fervor, their shouts ringing through the room.
“Find the cursed bastard and bring him to me.” The commander swept out of the room, the clanging of his armor following him.
Chapter 7
Alok nearly dropped his bowl, looking at the two of them as if they were stupid.
“Why would you ever agree to such a mission?”
Laksh sighed. “This is a great opportunity, Alok. It would take a normal soldier ten years, at least, to become commander.”
“And it’s our duty, Alok,” Kunal said.
It was his duty, his obligation to his uncle.
“But, Kunal, remember your last conversation with him.”
“He was just upset that I had applied to be posted at Gwali. And maybe he was right, maybe my place is here,” Kunal said. “At the Fort.”
“He expected you to be at the Fort; that doesn’t mean he was right. Think about what you want, Kunal.”
“I want to do this.”
“You don’t have to—”
Kunal glared at his friend and to his surprise, Alok shut up.
“Thanks for the rousing support.”
Alok looked at him with an odd expression. “I’m your friend. I don’t want to see either of you dead. The Viper was able to sneak into the Fort and stab the damn general. The general,” he said, slamming the table in front of them.
Laksh shushed him, looking around the low light of the Mess Hall.
A small thought bloomed in Kunal’s head. The Viper was able to sneak into the Fort last night . . .
The hall door was thrown open and rows of soldiers turned their heads to look for the disturbance. Two soldiers brought in a body and Kunal almost shot up, before realizing it was too small to be his uncle’s.
The boy they had seen in irons. His disheveled state was a stark contrast to the way his uncle’s body had been treated—he hadn’t been cleaned or given the proper rites.
Murmurs rippled through the hardened soldiers, mutterings and prayers.
Commander Panak rose from his seat, his hand at the sword that hung off his hip. “Let it be a warning; this soldier failed in his duty last night. In death he will not be honored, as he wouldn’t be in life.”
Alok gasped, so quietly only Kunal heard, but he understood. The soldier might have been alive when found, but his failure had ensured his death. Kunal had assumed wrong. He hadn’t passed in the night due to injuries.
This—this was unnecessary. Nothing in Kunal’s body or soul could tell him otherwise. The soldier had been so young, new to the Fort, and untrained.
Death surrounded them as soldiers, and they wielded it as they did their weapons. To be scared of death as a soldier was to invite it in to claim you. Kunal forced himself to draw his eyes up and rest on the boy’s frame, which looked smaller in death. To remember and respect him, the small stories, the dreams and hopes he had nestled in his chest, as they all did.
A soldier’s life was ruthless, cold, and Kunal hadn’t always known how to stomach it. He inhaled, saying a small prayer over the boy’s life, and then savagely brought up the walls around his heart.
Kunal let the calmness of duty and discipline settle over him, edging away any other feeling. The mess hall devolved into a mass of chatter and noise as the Fort leadership left, the servants taking the body away.