“Thirty thousand or more,” Kehlbrand told me, gauging the track of my thoughts with typical ease. “That’s what it cost me to take it, Obvar. It was quite the spectacle, I must say. I’ve already set several scholars to work on the account. Another chapter to the Darkblade’s epic, once suitably edited, of course.”
He clapped a hand on my back, guiding me along the battlement. He had led me to the innermost and highest wall in the city, all the while relating a commentary of his achievements since my death whilst my still-confused mind struggled to grasp hold of the pertinent details. I had missed a great deal, the taking of Keshin-Kho being the principal omission. It had been the object of Stahlhast ambitions for generations, and even in the throes of my disorientation, the shame of having played no part in the city’s fall rankled more than I liked.
“Have no fear, old friend,” he told me. “There’ll be a feast of renown to reap when we move south. Though, sadly, it will be your new name that garners the plaudits.”
I looked up at him, suddenly beset by the strangeness of it all. Kehlbrand was a tall man, but I had always been taller and found I disliked this new disparity in stature.
“Don’t fret over it too much,” Kehlbrand assured me with a smile that held an aggravating level of amusement. “As I understand it, this is but your first shell. Perhaps the next will be more to your liking.”
“Where . . .” I began, trailing off as another wave of disorientation swept through me. Images I had never seen flicked through my head along with emotions I had never felt. A shell, I reminded myself. This is just a shell, stolen from a man driven by poison to the point of death.
“I had to force him to touch the stone first,” Kehlbrand had told me in those first moments after waking, as I reeled about the room in utter confusion. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have found purchase on this body. Apparently he gained an uncanny ability to calculate numbers. A trifling gift to be sure, but I’m sure we’ll find a use for it.”
I gritted my teeth, forcing away the rush of alien memory to concentrate on my question. “Where is Luralyn?”
Kehlbrand came to an abrupt halt, all humour fading from his features. The hand on my back suddenly bunched into a fist before he withdrew it with a small sigh. “Gone, old friend. She chose the traitor’s path.”
“Luralyn . . . betrayed you?” The absence of any lie in his voice was palpable, as was his grief. I found myself staggering again and might have stumbled had he not reached out to steady me.
“All will be made clear. For now”—he inclined his head towards the inner streets of the city’s uppermost tier—“I need you to perform the role we spoke of.”
We halted at the edge of the battlement, looking down on the broad expanse of barracks, temple and courtyard below. A large body of men was arrayed in the centre of the courtyard, all sitting with heads bowed under the watchful glare of a large contingent of Stahlhast with sabres drawn. A hundred or more archers also patrolled the overlooking wall, ready to unleash a hail of arrows should it prove necessary. The prisoners numbered perhaps six thousand by my reckoning, all that remained of a garrison tens of thousands strong.
“Before we could surround it, the general emptied the city of all save soldiers,” Kehlbrand said with a note of grudging respect. “Clever bastard. I assume he thought he was sparing his subjects our barbarous attentions. Instead he denied them the Darkblade’s love and left me only with this lot.” He flicked a hand at the prisoners. “Cowards too craven to die fighting. I was hoping for more, but it’s a start. Come,” he said, moving towards the stairwell, “time to meet your army, General.”
The prisoners started to stir as we approached across the courtyard, the grim listlessness of defeated men expectant of death giving way to alarm at the sight of the Darkblade himself. A murmur of disquiet passed through their muddled ranks, but they remained seated due to fear of the Stahlhast. However, their unease turned to outright confusion as my features came fully into view. Some let out shouts of alarm whilst others, veterans presumably, sprang to their feet to stand at rigid attention.
“Stay your blades!” Kehlbrand called out as the Stahlhast made ready to hack down those who had risen. “Good soldiers should show due respect to their general.”
Clearly taking this as some form of signal, the entire contingent of prisoners got quickly to their feet, former sergeants and corporals hissing out orders that had them shuffling into a semblance of order. Although they stood to attention, their faces were all locked on mine, some unable to conceal a frown of suspicion, others staring in desperate hope that my presence might mean deliverance. Scanning the faces, I felt a strange rush of recognition, picking out several and finding their names coming easily to mind. I know these men. I closed my eyes, shaking my head to clear the rush of confusion. No. He knew these men.
“Have you no words for your soldiers?” Kehlbrand asked, voice soft but insistent.
I straightened, clearing my throat. I had only a rudimentary knowledge of Chu-Shin and expected the words that emerged from my mouth to be halting, accented by the comparatively soft vowels of the Steppe. Instead they flowed with unhesitant fluency, and no one in my audience displayed the slightest doubt that they were being addressed by the man who had worn this face.
“You know me,” I told them. “You and I fought together in loyalty and trust. You served under my banner with courage and fortitude through the worst of days, and I am honoured by your service. This day I ask once again for your trust. It is time you learned the truth, the shameful facts of our betrayal. We fought to save this city and spilled our blood for days, watched our brothers die at our side, all on the promise of salvation from the Merchant King. But no salvation ever came. I know now that it was never coming. The Merchant King sent no reinforcements. We were abandoned here to die so that he might continue to sit in his palace and enjoy his riches. It has always been this way; the wealth of the Merchant Realms has ever been purchased by the blood of their soldiers.”
Most continued to stare in confused fascination, whilst I saw several frown in either anger or disgust. Was their leader now a turncoat?
“Know that my words are true, for the Darkblade speaks only truth.” I extended a stiff arm to Kehlbrand, who now wore a perfectly composed expression of regretful anger, the image of a man grieved to hear of his friend’s suffering. “He has spoken unto me, and I have heard the truth of his words and the greatness of his mercy. He offers us life, he offers us freedom from the shackles of the Merchant King. No longer will we be slaves to an old man’s greed, no longer will our wives and children know only servitude. The Venerable Kingdom is naught but a diseased monster in need of killing. I, Sho Tsai, once your general, once a fool who spent his days bowing before an undeserving miser, pledge my sword to the Darkblade’s service.” I swept my arm towards them, fingers spread in urgent invitation. “Join me. Together we will sweep away the corruption and filth of the Merchant Kings. Join me!”
An angry murmur rippled through the ranks, men exchanging glances of despairing bewilderment. Sho Tsai, commander of the Red Scouts and defender of Keshin-Kho, the most faithful servant ever known to the court of the Merchant King Lian Sha, now called for treason. The murmur grew into muttering, the words “mad” and “treachery” audible amongst the babble. The orderly ranks lost cohesion as muttering blossomed into shouts and many took on the crouch of those about to engage in combat, heedless of the danger. It was clear to me that these men were about to die under a hail of arrows and slashing sabres, that all they had heard in the words of their general were the lies of a traitor.