Son of the Black Sword by Larry Correia

Author:Larry Correia [Correia, Larry]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Epic, Historical, General
ISBN: 9781476780863
Google: khQnrgEACAAJ
Amazon: 1476780862
Publisher: Baen
Published: 2015-10-27T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Jagdish drank his beer and thought about his latest shame. Both were bitter.

The warriors’ hall was loud. The air was filled with pipe smoke. Drinks were flowing freely. News had spread quickly. Representatives from the Capitol had gone to Cold Stream to deliver judgment to the Disgrace of Vadal. By the time Jagdish had gotten here, wanting only to drink his anger away, all the other warriors were already talking about it, so he’d listened in annoyed silence.

“It was the masks that came for him. That means he’s going to roast on the Inquisitor’s Dome.”

“Naw. Beheading.”

“But no ax! They’ll use a wood saw. Slow and squirting and kicking. I heard that’s how they do it in Vokkan, and the Grand Inquisitors from House Vokkan.”

“You’re a moron. Harta won’t allow that. Not honorable enough. With our luck they’ll send a whole paltan to fight the Black Heart, make it a nice and proper bearer’s death they can write songs about . . . The arbiters will probably sell tickets.”

“They wouldn’t do that . . . Would they?”

“Oceans, Nayak, they’d gladly spend fifty of us to wrap this mess up. In a generation there’ll be a play about it in the Capitol. The tragic final scene will be the actors playing us getting cut to pieces so the bearer can have a right honorable enough death.” That warrior was fairly drunk by this point. “I bet the actor playing Harta will deliver a fine speech, knee deep in the paint supposed to be our blood.”

“What do you think, Jagdish?”

Of course, they wouldn’t leave him alone about it. Oh no, he’d been there that terrible night. Jagdish had actually fought the Black Heart, then he’d bravely kept him imprisoned, and Jagdish was the only man who had the balls to command that monster to spar against him. Or at least, that’s what many of the Vadal warriors were saying. The ones who thought Jagdish a fool were smart enough to only say it behind his back.

Jagdish took his time looking at the many warriors sitting around the long table, and the others who were standing around the edges, all eagerly awaiting his opinion. He’d drawn a crowd. The hall had even quieted down a bit to hear what he had to say. Jagdish poured the last of the beer down his throat. The cheap watery swill wasn’t nearly strong enough tonight. “All I know for sure is that’s the last of my month’s beer allotment.”

“You can have one of my ration, Risaldar!” exclaimed one of the youngest, who signaled a slave to bring another pitcher.

Maybe being the resident expert wasn’t all bad. That was like the . . . eighth? Tenth? He couldn’t remember, but the soldiers kept them coming, so he wasn’t complaining. The pitcher was set in front of him, and Jagdish refilled his mug. “I was sent away before I heard. The sentence will probably be announced tomorrow.” The younger warriors seemed let down, the veterans were used to

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