Peter Newman - The Deathless

The servant looked about the room, dismayed. ‘My lord.’

In the end it took the two of them to get everything straight, and Vasin had to spray the scented water over himself, then bind silk around his own chest, arms, and thighs, which was difficult, but by the time Gada entered, the illusion of serenity and cleanliness was established, betrayed only by the glistening sweat on the servant’s brow.

The body his brother had taken in this incarnation was classic Gada. Tall, thin, lightly muscled, as if exercise was something to be sampled but not indulged in. The thick eyebrows and beard, both neatly trimmed, suited, adding weight to an otherwise ephemeral appearance.

Like all Deathless, Lord Gada Sapphire held his own castle and looked after his own settlements. Despite this, he had become a regular fixture of Vasin’s life since their mother’s exile. Gada was still playing the game, fighting to keep them both in High Lord Sapphire’s favour. It was a fight he seemed destined to lose.

A slight flick of Gada’s finger dismissed the servant. They were alone.

Gada’s smile of greeting lacked sincerity, but then, it always had. It was why few trusted him and fewer warmed to him. If blood didn’t tie them, Vasin doubted he’d be very fond of the other man either. It wasn’t fair, because Gada had always looked after him, had taken his duties as elder brother seriously. Perhaps that was the problem. He’d always felt more like a duty to Gada than a loved one.

Vasin stood there, his habitual social ease failing him after years of disuse. Gada seemed afflicted by the same problem and so the brothers simply stared at one another, Gada’s smile looking like it could flee the scene at any moment.

Meanwhile, adding to the tension, the space between each beat of the great drum grew steadily shorter. Soon, the second drummer would begin, and Vasin would have to leave.

‘You look well,’ said Gada.

‘No I don’t.’

Gada’s smile faded away. ‘No.’

‘If you have something to say …’

‘Yes.’ He contradicted himself by pausing and Vasin felt frustration well up. His brother’s surprise visit was stirring up feelings he’d worked hard to bury. Grief stirred within him like a beast coming out of hibernation. He’d isolated himself on purpose, hiding behind his walls, refusing to see people. And when that hadn’t been enough, he’d used Tack, smoking himself into oblivion. Bad enough that he had to face the outside world today, but must he face the past as well? Why couldn’t his brother just say whatever it was and leave?

Gada closed the space between them, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder as he did so. ‘I was surprised to hear you had volunteered to lead the hunt.’

‘And you weren’t sure I was up to it?’

‘This has to go well, Vasin.’ His words were hushed, conspiratorial. ‘It’s bigger than you or me. All eyes are on us now, from below and without, and across the other houses … After the last hunt failed, we—’

He’d heard about the failed hunt, the hunt that failed even to happen. Sorn, one of the Sapphire holdings belonging to Lord Rochant, had called for help against the Wild. Lord Rochant had been between lives at the time, and so it had fallen to Yadavendra, High Lord of the Sapphire, to oversee Sorn’s protection. They’d made the proper sacrifice, followed tradition, but, for the first time in House Sapphire’s history, the call had gone unanswered. Not only had the High Lord turned his back on them, he had forbidden the other Sapphire Deathless to get involved. Since then, nothing had been heard from Sorn, and a feeling of unrest had settled over the rest of the Sapphire provinces. Sagan had been the first settlement to call for aid since, and though Yadavendra hadn’t responded personally, his silence allowed the others to take action.

‘If it’s so important,’ said Vasin acidly, ‘why doesn’t High Lord Sapphire lead the hunt himself?’

Gada’s expression was pained. ‘He’s still too disturbed by grief.’

‘What?’

‘Please don’t, Vasin.’

‘ He’s disturbed by grief? He is! What about us? What about our grief? She was our mother—’

The sound of the second drum cut off Vasin mid shout. Two beats, close together, following on the heels of the first drum. Gada spoke into the quiet that followed.

‘Hunt well and thorough , brother.’

Vasin forced his fists to unclench. It wouldn’t do to part like this. He pulled Gada close, feeling the man stiffen before settling into an awkward embrace. ‘I’m sorry,’ he began, but his voice cracked and his throat tightened, swallowing the rest of the sentence.

‘Sssh,’ Gada said. ‘Deal with the hunt today. I can wait till tomorrow, the court for a while after that. One thing at a time.’ He peeled himself out of Vasin’s grip as another beat of the drums reverberated through the castle. ‘ Hunt well and thorough .’

Unable to speak, Vasin nodded and left the room. His eyes were blurry with tears but it didn’t matter, he knew the way well enough, the hallways and rooms mapped over many lives.

With effort, he could push aside thoughts of the Sapphire High Lord and his brother, but the rage sat there, burning, like a hot coal in his chest.

It had been a glimpse, nothing more. The bottom half of a tunic and a pair of boots ascending a stairwell. One of the night guards doing the rounds.

Honoured Mother Chandni wandered to the bottom of the stairs, a frown spoiling her features. She knew all of the guards by sight and yet this one had seemed like a stranger. She also knew the routines of the castle as well as she knew the habits of the babe in her arms, and there were no changeovers due for at least an hour.

Still frowning, she continued up the stairs and stepped out onto the ramparts. It was still dark, the three suns some hours from rising, but Satyendra showed no signs of sleepiness. She felt the same. There was simply too much going on for her mind to rest.

A guard saluted her as she came into view. His name was Ji, one of the older ones. Ji was not the one she’d seen on the steps, they had moved too quickly, their stride that of a much younger man.

‘Did another guard come this way?’ she asked.

‘No, Honoured Mother. It’s just me and the cold out tonight.’

‘You’re sure?’

He nodded. ‘Even the castle is quiet.’

‘It’s holding its breath. We all are.’ It was Lord Rochant Sapphire’s rebirth ceremony in the morning and they all wanted him back dearly. The halls had seemed empty since he’d gone between lives.

‘When do you think he’ll come back to us?’ asked Ji.

‘When he’s ready. It’s not for you to question the time or place.’

‘Sorry, I just miss him.’

Chandni allowed herself a polite smile. ‘We all do.’

It’s time to replace Ji, she thought. The man’s losing his focus. I’ll keep him on long enough for Lord Rochant to see him in uniform one more time, and then retire him.

She made a slow circuit of the walls. Had she really seen that guard? It was dark and she was tired, perhaps she had imagined it? Chandni didn’t believe that though. There was something in the air, a tension that she hoped was connected to Lord Rochant’s return. But it wasn’t hope she felt in her stomach. Satyendra stirred in her arms, uncharacte‌ristically restless.

‘You feel it too don’t you?’ she said softly. ‘You’re not alone. I doubt any of us will sleep easily tonight.’

Satyendra regarded her with dark eyes. He had always been a quiet baby but there was something alert in his manner, a watchfulness that suggested a wise head rather than a vacant one.

‘Somewhere over there,’ she continued, pointing into the night, ‘is another castle just like this, floating high in the sky. It belongs to Lord Vasin Sapphire. At dawn, he’ll be hunting for demons in a place called Sagan. Normally your grandfather, Lord Rochant, would do it, but his soul is somewhere else, somewhere far, far away.’