The Skull Throne

But that was a problem for later. Inevera was pulled from her thoughts as Asome drew breath to speak. Unlike the tension and anger in the others, Asome’s aura was cool and even, convinced of the righteousness of his path, safe in the knowledge that Everam was on his side.

“Holy Andrah,” Asome said, bowing deeply before Ashan, “it is said amongst the Sharum who accompanied you and my father to meet with the Hollow tribe that you, yourself, fought alagai’sharak with them. Is this not so?”

There was a buzz through the room at that, dama gasping and whispering to one another.

Ashan’s eyes narrowed. “The Shar’Dama Ka commanded I follow him into battle and I obeyed, defending myself by tripping and throwing alagai into the path of Sharum spears. I did not take up warded weapons and kill.”

“And yet your honor was boundless,” Asome said. “I did not take up weapons, either. The first alagai I killed were by sharusahk alone, with no magic to aid me. It was only when Nie set her kai against us that I fought as my father did, turning their own power against them.”

Another buzz through the crowd.

“And yet it was that very thing your father forbade,” Ashan reminded him. “Here, in open court, he forbade you to fight at Waning.”

“My father made that decree to punish my arrogance,” Asome said, drawing looks of surprise. Indeed, all Ahmann’s sons were arrogant, though none to Inevera’s knowledge had ever admitted it. “My wife had gone into the night, killing alagai at the Damajah’s command.” He looked up, meeting Inevera’s eyes. “With no warning to me beforehand. What husband would not rage at such a sight? What man not feel the sting? I spoke out in anger, attempting to deny her the spear.”

Asome turned, taking in the assembled court. “But I was wrong! Wrong to deny the honor to any who wished to take arms against Nie and stand unified in Sharak Ka. For make no mistake, brothers and sisters, Sharak Ka is near! My mother has foretold that the Deliverer has gone to the edge of Nie’s abyss, and when he returns it will be with all Her forces at his heels! The armies of the Deliverer must stand ready when that day comes, strong at his back as he turns to face that fell horde and cleanse their taint from Ala once and for all!”

He turned back to Ashan. “Why do dama spend lifetimes studying sharusahk? To bully Sharum and khaffit to our will? That is not Everam’s way. Not the way of Shar’Dama Ka. At every turn, my father added to his forces from unlikely places. Khaffit. Chin. Women. The creation of the shar’dama was inevitable, Holy Andrah. My father denied me honor to teach me this, but I have learned. I have grown. And now, with my father facing trials far from here, it is the duty of all dama to lead his people in his absence.”

Again his eyes swept the crowd. “And so on the second night of Waning, I call upon all dama to take up the fight, staining their white robes with demon ichor and sending a message to Nie’s generals that we of Krasia are not weak in the night. That we will stand not only when the Deliverer is with us, but when he needs us most to stand on our own. Every Sharum unit has a dama advisor. Go with them into the night and see firsthand the great work they do, the sacrifice they make. Join in alagai’sharak, and become what you were meant to be since the first time you stood in the bowels of Sharik Hora and began the sharukin!”

There was a roar at that, some dama and Damaji screaming in protest, but many more crying out in support, eager for the honor Asome offered.

“You must support him,” Inevera whispered into Ashan’s earring. She had said it before, but now there was no other choice. When Ahmann had first brought back the fighting wards and offered true battle against Nie, the Andrah and Damaji had resisted, fearing the loss of power. Sharum had defected in droves, flocking to the Maze and Ahmann’s call. If they resisted, it would only be a matter of time before Asome did the same.

Ashan was angry at his sons, but he was no fool and saw it, too. “There is wisdom in your words, my son. The blood of my brother Ahmann, Shar’Dama Ka, runs strong in you—all of you. You honor Everam with your words.” He rose from the Skull Throne. “And so I, too, will fight this night, and stain my robes.”

“As will I.” Ancient, one-armed Aleverak stepped forward. “Too long have the dama cowered like women in the Undercity while Sharum shed blood in the night.”

Others stepped forward, some in passion, and others, their auras told, out of fear of being seen as cowards. The wind blew, and none could resist it.

“Shar’dama! And my brother is first among them! They chant it in the streets while I sit here in the cold doing nothing!”

Jayan threw the letter into the fireplace, followed by his couzi bottle. The ensuing fireball consumed the paper instantly, and everyone took a step back. Thankfully, the blaze did not spread.

Bring the Sharum Ka a fresh cup, Abban’s fingers told Earless, but leave the bottle on the tray.

The mute kha’Sharum did as he was bidden, eyes firmly on the floor. Even stooped he was the tallest man in the room, but Earless’ silent subservience was as good as a Cloak of Unsight. Jayan took the cup without so much as glancing his way.

“You will not find the path to glory at the bottom of a couzi cup, Sharum Ka,” Khevat said.

Jayan made a show of throwing back the cup, wiping his mouth with his white veil. Khevat rankled, but said nothing as Jayan stormed up to him. “Then where will I find it, Dama? You were sent here to advise me, were you not? How long will your son keep the Skull Throne if my brother’s power continues to grow?”

“My son never should have had the throne in the first place,” Khevat said. “That was the Damajah’s doing.”

“And what would you have done instead?” Jayan asked.

“The law is clear,” Khevat said. “The throne should have passed to you. You are the eldest son. Your holy father gave you command of alagai’sharak, and you are the one in foreign lands, fighting Sharak Sun for the glory of Everam. Your brother has only killed a handful of alagai.”

“And started a movement that will tear the clergy asunder, much as your father did,” Abban said.

Khevat glared at him. “Your opinion was not asked for, khaffit.”

Abban bowed as Jayan looked his way. “As the Sharum Ka says, honored Dama, we are here to advise.”

“You are the one putting couzi in the Sharum Ka’s hands,” Khevat said. “How can you hope to advise a path to glory?”

“How indeed?” Jayan asked, but there was none of his usual derision. “I would hear the khaffit’s advice.”

Abban smiled. “The Sharum Ka already knows what he will do.”

Jayan crossed his arms, but he was smirking. “Do enlighten us.”

Abban bowed again. “The Sharum Ka could have returned to the capital for the winter. The city on the lake is all but taken, and cold will keep the siege better than warriors. The chin rebellion in Everam’s Bounty is crushed. Why remain here at the head of his armies, with little to do until the thaw?”

“What course is left to me?” Jayan asked. “With the lake frozen and the Hollow tribe outnumbering us to the north?”

“East, to see for yourself the destruction your warriors have wrought upon the heathen monastery that launched the attack upon us,” Abban said. “Your siege engines will gather snow if left so close to the lake, but the Old Hill Road to the north is yet clear.”