A Warrior's Path (The Castes and the OutCastes) (47 page)

  How could two people share the same parents but come out so differently?  Rukh was open and curious
, and despite his obvious intelligence, humble.  Meanwhile, Bree struck her as being the opposite: haughty, arrogant, and close-minded.  She seemed the type of person who was certain of their own cleverness and everyone else’s stupidity.

Bitch.

Jessira flopped in the soft bed and tried to find a comfortable position.  She sighed in annoyance.  Her body must have grown used to the hard ground.  She lay there for a while, hoping to get some sleep, but despite her fatigue, it stubbornly eluded her.  She sat up with a frown.  If she couldn’t fall asleep, she might as well talk to someone.  But the only person she knew was Rukh.  She wondered if he was still up.  His room was near hers – she’d passed it on the way to the guest quarters – and it wouldn’t hurt to check.

She crept from her room.  It was late at night and the house was quiet.  All the servants were asleep, even Rukh’s parents, who apparently had stayed up late into the evening, discussing the inf
ormation their son had brought home before finally retiring themselves.

She
hesitated at his door.  If anyone saw her, this could appear most inappropriate.  She was about to slip away when she heard voices from within.  Good.  He wasn’t alone.  She tapped lightly on Rukh’s door.

“Come in, Jessira,” he said.

She muttered a curse.  How did he know it was her?  She eased the door open.  Inside, Rukh was sitting on the lip of his bed.  Sitting on several chairs near him were Jaresh and Bree.

Great.

Jessira was about to back right out. “If I’m disturbing you…”

S
urprisingly, it was Bree who called her back in.  “Stay,” she said.  “You don’t need to go.”

“What are you doing here so late?”
Jaresh asked, suspicion tinging his voice.

Jessira shrugged,
feeling self-conscious before their scrutiny.  Stopping by Rukh’s room had been a mistake.  “I couldn’t sleep, and I heard voices, so…”

“
Well Rukh was just telling us all about you,” Bree said.

“There isn’t much to tell
,” Jessir said.  “I’m a scout.  I got caught.  I was injured.  Your brother saved my life.  The end.”

“That’s plenty more than I could say about myself,” Bree replied.  “In Ashoka, women aren’t allowed to fight.  We’re considered too important for Humanity’s survival.”  She snorted in derision.  “We’re animate wombs if you ask me.”

Jessira wasn’t sure how to respond.  Did Rukh’s sister expect her pity?  Not fragging likely.  If Kumma women didn’t like their role in this world, then they should stop whining about it and change it.  They were as much a part of Ashoka’s culture as the men, and they had it in them to decide what was in their best interests.  Nothing was stopping them except their own fear and laziness.  Or were Bree’s words supposed to help the two of them form some kind of sisterly bond?  Again, not very likely, especially after Bree’s earlier boorish behavior.

Jessira shrugged and was about to turn away when Bree spoke again.

“I know I wasn’t kind to you earlier, and I’m sorry about my poor manners,” she said.  “I’m sure you know how we view ghrinas – I mean OutCastes – and your sudden appearance…it had me off-balance.  I’m not at my best when I’m surprised, but Rukh straightened me out.”

The words gave Jessira pause.  She faced Rukh’s sister
, and studied her, wondering if she had misread the woman. The apology had sounded genuine, and Bree’s expression was one of regret. Jessira had learned to trust her instincts about a person, but they had failed her with Rukh.  Perhaps they had failed her in this instance as well.

“You’re forgiven,” Jessira said to Bree.  “And don’t feel too bad.  Your brother wasn’t much kinder when he and I first met.
  He wanted to kill me on sight.”

Bree startled and turned to Rukh.  “Is this true?”

Rukh shrugged uncomfortably.

“Rukh!”

“I wasn’t really going to,” he said.  “At the time, I was just thinking about what was said about ghrinas in
The Word and the Deed
.”

Jaresh chuckled.  “
And this is what we have to put up with,” he said to Jessira.  “A stickler for rules is our brother.”

“
But he has his uses,” Bree added.

Despite their teasing tones, t
he love and affection was evident in both their voices.

Jessira smiled.  “Yes he does
.”  She glanced at Rukh.  “For the most part, he’s worth keeping around,” she said, surprising herself by the fond tone in her voice.

She noticed the look of speculati
ve concern shared by Rukh’s brother and sister.  They were probably wondering if their brother had sullied himself with an OutCaste. He hadn’t, and he never would, but if Jaresh and Bree could wonder about it, then others would as well.  Jackholes like Rector Bryce, and what they might say, could be ruinous to Rukh’s good name.  After all he had done for her, it was the last thing she wanted.

There
was
something she could say to help quell any sudden rumors, though.  She could tell the truth.  “When I get home, I imagine my fiancé will be grateful for all his help,” she said.

“You’re engaged?” Jaresh asked.

Jessira didn’t miss the look of relief he shared with Bree.

Rukh laughed.  “Five weeks travelling with her, and this is the first I’m hearing of it.”

“His name is Disbar Merdant,” Jessira said.  “We were engaged over the winter, and our marriage is to take place next spring.”

“Congratulations,” Rukh said, sounding sincere.  “But why did you decide to st
op by room so late in the night?  I know it isn’t for my sparkling wit or dazzling company.”

Jessira wasn’t sure herself.  She had gotten used to Rukh’s presence next to her after their time in the Wildness.  He was comforting somehow.

“Like I said: I couldn’t sleep,” she said.  “I think it’s being here, in this house and this city, so I thought I’d come by and see if you were awake.”  She shrugged.  “Besides you haven’t told me how you won the Tournament of Hume.”

Rukh groaned.  “That again.”

“How did it happen?” she asked.  “I mean, how does someone so young defeat a city full of battle-hardened Kummas.

“You know of the Tournament?” Jaresh asked,
surprised.

“Stronghold
also holds a martial contest,” Jessira explained.  “Only we call it the Trials of Hume.” She nodded.  “We honor him just like you do.”

“His influence stretches far and wide, from Purebloods to OutCaste
s to even the Baels,” Rukh added.

“You didn’t answer my question?” Jessira said to him.

Rukh sighed.  “Fine.  Come in and have a seat, and I’ll tell you what you want to know.  Prepare to be underwhelmed.  I won the final contest by luck more than anything…”

“Start with the first one,” Jessira
interrupted.  She settled into a chair, hoping Rukh’s stories about the Tournament would take her mind off her worries.

Foolish is the
man who turns aside from the woman who might complete him. He deserves our contempt.

-
Sooths and Small Sayings
by Tramed Billow, AF 1387

T
he next morning, Jessira woke much later than usual.  Her sleep had been restless and filled with nightmarish visions of Rector Bryce chasing her through a dark alley, laughing maniacally even as he hurled vulgar promises of how he would brutalize her.  In other dreams, rampaging crowds, their faces distorted with blind hatred, raced amongst the streets of an Ashoka destroyed by fire and ruin.  Rukh had been amongst the rioters, and the mob had been baying for her blood.  She shuddered in remembrance.

Perhaps sunlight would help her forget the night
mares.

She went to the double-doors leading out to the balcony.
They were paneled with small, rectangular windows and curtained with thin, white diaphanous drapes, yet still thick enough to keep hidden the view outside.  She unlocked the doors and drew them open, pausing on the threshold.  Holy Father…this was Ashoka?  She gripped the door handles tightly, and her mouth opened in stunned surprise.  She had to force herself to breathe.  She had seen some of the city yesterday, but it had been late when Jessira and Rukh had arrived.  She’d also been in pain and hadn’t noticed much more than cursory details.  She had thought the city attractive enough, but when seen like this, in the morning…

The city was huge.  Much, much larger than Stronghold.  And so loud.  There were so many sounds.  Everything from people shouting to animals bellowing and the noise
s of traffic competing with lovely voices and instruments raised in song and music from several nearby buskers.  It was a cacophony, but not an unpleasant one.  Then came the aromas: the wonderful, delicious smells of various foods and spices drifting on the clean salty air.

But what took her breath away w
ere the sights greeting her.  Jessira found her gaze darting around as she tried to take it all in at once.

Steep, verdant hills – upon which were perched lovely homes in colors of salmon-pink, lavender, sky blue, or sunny yellow – tumbled down to the blue water, only to re-emerge here and there as rocky, green outcroppings far out in the deep bay. 
She had never seen the Sickle Sea before.  How could so much water exist in one place at the same time? Throughout Ashoka were ornate buildings with lintels and columns carved into fanciful figures.  They fronted or surrounded numerous courtyards or large private gardens where families and couples gathered for meals or a stroll.  Jessira saw lines of wide, paved streets with medians of palm trees as they crisscrossed the city.  Where the boulevards intersected were busy traffic circles.  Somehow the ox-drawn wagons, mounted horsemen, rickshaws, and pedestrians managed to get through the tumult without anyone getting hurt.  She traced one street until it ended at a large plaza with numerous fountains spraying water in the air.  Near it was a giant stadium, larger than any building in Stronghold.  She faintly remembered they had passed it last night.  Jessira wondered if it was where Rukh had won the Tournament of Hume.  To the south of her balcony was a park taking up most of the valley floor where several hills met.  It was open and spacious, filled with trees, grassy fields, meadows, and even several small ponds.  The park ran up to a rocky cliff and offered a glorious view of the bay.

Ashoka was stunning, and f
or an instant, Jessira was flooded with intense jealousy.  It seemed so unfair for the Purebloods to have a place of such beauty and safety while the OutCastes were forced to squat in what amounted to caves.  Would there ever come a time when her kind could walk the wide, lovely boulevards of Ashoka without fear of harassment or harm?

Jessira
doubted it…at least not in her lifetime.  But Holy Mother, she wished it could be so.

Eventually, s
he went back inside and donned her scarf.  Couldn’t scandalize the servants with her shabby OutCaste self.

She smiled at the thought.

Stronghold had no servants, at least not like the ones here.  Her city was young and poor.  Other than communal meals and bathhouses, which were maintained by a cadre of people whose job it was to service those areas, everyone was expected to do for themselves.  If her family could see her now, they might have laughed at her worries about avoiding servants.

The smile slipped
away.

She wished she could see her family now.  She missed them.  She
prayed Cedar was safe.  She hoped he had made it home and warned the city.

He
would have so many events to relate to the city Elders.  The world was far different than they thought.  Until Rukh had described it all last night, she hadn’t realized how many changes her people would have to confront.  It was staggering.  Who could have imagined all the sights Jessira Viola Grey would see since that eventful night on the Hunters Flats when the SarpanKum had offered Humanity the peace of fraternity?

It was surreal
, and if she hadn’t been witness to all of those events, she wouldn’t have believed them possible.

There was a
knock at her door, and when she opened it, she found Jaresh standing outside.

“Nanna would like you to join us downstairs,” he said.  “
The Council is meeting.”

She nodded
acknowledgement, but before stepping outside, she made sure her hands were hidden within the folds of her shirt. Her Cherid skin did not match her Muran eyes.  She shook her head in disbelief.  The stupid lengths to which the Purebloods insisted people bend their features.

Jaresh led her
down an elliptical staircase, through the rear foyer, and to his father’s study, the same room in which they had all gathered last night.  Waiting inside was Rukh.  He looked relaxed and comfortable with a fresh shave and even a haircut.  When had he found the time for either?  It must be later than she realized.  She silently scolded herself for sleeping in.

She also noticed Rukh’s
amma and nanna, as well as his sister and Mira Terrell.  There were also two older men, both of whom gave her appraising and curious glances.  She hid a grimace when she saw Rector Bryce and Sophy Terrell.  Those two despised her and probably always would.  Not that she cared.  She’d be gone from Ashoka as soon as her shoulder was healed enough for travel.  As far as she was concerned, it might as well be today.

“Are you one of the so-called OutCaste
s?” one of the older men asked.

Rukh’s
nanna, Dar’El chuckled.  “Pardon Durmer’s directness.  At his age, he believes the accepted rules of decorum no longer apply to him.”

“No reason to waste time on frippery,” Durmer said.  “Well, girl…are you?”

Rather than speak, Jessira simply unwrapped the shawl, letting them see the mixed heritage so obvious in her skin, her hair, and her eyes.

Durmer glanced at Sophy, a puzzled expression on his face.  “The way you described her, I figured her to be as ugly as
a Bael turd.  The girl is lovely.”

The other old man laughed.  “Lovely is the correct description for a spring day.  The
woman
is beautiful.”

Durmer rolled his eyes.  “Speaking like a poet won’t get you anywhere with this one, Garnet, you lecherous old goat.”

Jessira looked to Rukh in confusion, but he looked just as confused as she did.  Had those two old men actually offered her a compliment?  She would have wagered the sun stood a better chance of rising in the west than for a Kumma to call her beautiful or lovely.

Durmer must have noticed her surprise because he started laughing.  “We’re old, girl, but not cold.”

“And as Dar’El says: at our age, the general rules of society aren’t so important anymore.  We’ve lived long enough to find the circumstances of a person’s birth less important than the character of their heart.”

Jaresh stirred and coughed into his hand.  “Bullshit,” he muttered into his hand, clear and loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Other than when a Sentya is adopted into a Kumma House as the son of the ruling ‘El and wants to train as a warrior,” Durmer said somewhat caustically.  “We may have had trouble with that situation, but we all know how it turned out, don’t we?”

Garnet chuckled dryly.  “Jaresh can’t fight as one of us, but his heart is Kumma.  I’ve said it for years now.”

Jaresh rolled his eyes, but he didn’t have a chance to respond because just then Rukh’s nanna spoke.  “Sit down,” Dar’El said, gesturing for Jessira to take a seat.

She
had planned on sitting next to Rukh, but Bree patted the empty space beside her on the divan.  Jessira hesitated, but Rukh wasn’t paying her any attention, so she sat next to his sister.

“Everyone here knows your status and knows what you and my son told us last night,” Dar’El began.  “This information must be relayed to the Magisterium.  They will meet with you in a
few hours.”

“And after that?” Jessira asked.  “Will my presence still be required?”

“Surely you aren’t considering leaving us so soon after your arrival?” Garnet asked.  “Rukh says you were clawed by a Shylow, and you had to have stitches placed last night.  Wouldn’t it be better to have one of the Shiyens make sure the infection isn’t lingering and have one of them take the stitches out for you?”

Again Jessira was surprised.  She would not have expected such hospitality from House Shektan,
not based on how they had treated her last night.  “I’m honored by the offer,” she said, “but I know none of you really want me here.”  She looked at Rukh.  “Your House has already done more for me than I could ever hope to repay.”

“If it is for our sake you wish to leave, then put it out of your mind,” Dar’El said.  “We will not have it said that House Shektan dismisses those in need.”

Before she could respond, Durmer spoke.  “Our world is changed.  You are simply the most obvious and
lovely
…” he glared at Garnet, daring him to contradict him…“manifestation of the transformations we face.”

“It would have been shocking enough to learn of your people,” Garnet said, “but then to hear of the Baels and the Shylow
s…”

“Kesarin
s,” Rukh corrected.

“Shylow
s.  Kesarins.  Who cares?  I’m too old to learn new things,” Garnet declared.  “The point is this: the information you’ve brought home has the potential to overturn Ashoka.  Much of what we once believed may be false,” he said, an echo of Jessira’s earlier sentiments about her own people.

“Rukh believes the Baels might be our allies,” Rector Bryce said, his tone openly mocking of the idea.

Jessira’s jaw clenched.  The prig just had to talk, didn’t he?

“
Maintaining a scoffing and sneering pose won’t lead a person to the truth,” Garnet said.  “You would do well to remember this, Rector Bryce.”

“Neither does giving serious consideration to fables,” Rector countered.  “Or the fabulist who speaks them,” he said, looking straight to Jessira.

Jessira found herself standing, heart pounding and full of a cold fury.  She’d had enough of this arrogant bastard.  Her thoughts were crystalline.  “Am I a liar now?” she demanded, taking a step toward Rector.  Bree tugged on her arm.  Jessira yanked herself free.  “You weren’t there, Bryce.  You were here, safe and snug in Ashoka while better men died.”

Rector roared to his feet.  “
If you were a man, you would face my challenge for such an insult.”

“And
if
you
were a man, I would accept,” Jessira shot back.  “I was there.  I’ve been out in the Wildness since I was sixteen.  I’ve spent months in the field.  I’ve survived ten of your so-called Trials.  I know what I’m talking about.  I heard everything the Baels said.  I saw their commander, Li-Dirge, fight alongside your Ashokans against his own Tigons.  I was there when Suwraith discovered the treachery of the Baels and killed them for it.  I saw the Bael survivors fight with us against the Shylows.  One even sacrificed his life so my brother could live.  And another carried me to safety.

“Stronghold doesn’t have an Oasis, so we
have
to be more cautious than you.  I believe what I saw.  I am no longer so sure the Baels aren’t telling the truth.  I think perhaps they have done their best to protect Humanity, even at the cost of their own lives, for centuries, ever since the fall of Hammer.  We shouldn’t dismiss their work out of hand.”

“Please sit, Rector,” Bree urged.

He glanced at her, an unfathomable expression on his face.  “This is wrong,” he muttered.  “
She
is wrong,” he said as he resumed his seat.

“Rukh said much the same thing as you,” Mira said.  “It’s
just so hard to believe.  It sounds impossible.”

“No different than Rukh Blending or Healing,” Jaresh said.

“Yet he can do both,” said Rukh’s amma, turning to Jessira.  “In the eyes of those without wisdom, he would be considered as Tainted as you.”  She graced Rector with a brief glance, leaving no doubt as to whom she was referencing.