all.”
CHAPTER 4
////// Ghaarrichk’k Madurai
Provisional capital of Grik India after the loss of Ceylon
N ’galsh, Vice Regent of India and Ceylon, was almost keening with woe in the Speaking Chamber of the ancient temple. He was one of the few beings who knew that the odd stone structure festooned with the curious weathered remnants of unknown creatures carved on nearly every exposed surface actually predated the Grik conquest, which had occurred perhaps five hundred years before, but he cared nothing about that now. General Halik had been intrigued by the structure when he first arrived, and General Niwa assumed a troubled expression. But Halik’s interest had quickly turned to the subject at hand, and now he glared at N’galsh with a loathing he could no longer conceal. He’d had just about enough of the officious, elitist, fear-crazed creature, and wondered that N’galsh had not already turned prey despite his Hij status. It had been a rough day for them all. Why could N’galsh not contain himself?
“They are coming, probably with the dawn!” N’galsh cried. “The world burns. It heaves! They will cross the Ceylon Tongue, and if you do not send more warriors, they will soon have all India as well! You must bring your warriors forward!”
“Silence!” General Halik finally snarled. “You lost any entitlement to make demands of me that your exalted station may once have afforded you, N’galsh, when you abandoned Colombo while the Battle of the Highlands was at its peak! It is you who cost us Ceylon, and you attend me now only at my sufferance!”
N’galsh’s mouth snapped shut with a stunned, toothy clack , but he was clearly preparing to open it again when General Orochi Niwa of the Jaaph Hunters, Halik’s implicit co-commander, stepped beside him.
“Consider before you speak, Lord Vice Regent N’galsh,” he warned. “This war was never meant to be decided in India. The enemy was supposed to extend his lines to the breaking point before we struck in earnest. Now, largely because of you, India increasingly becomes the focus of both sides—and our lines of supply are even more tenuous than those of our foes. Regardless of whether General Halik is right or not, the Celestial Mother herself appointed him to command here, and in martial matters even you must no longer interfere.” He shrugged slightly. “The only matters remaining in India now are military and within the province of the Great Hunt. Right now, he may feed you to his lowliest Uul, if he likes.”
N’galsh shrank back from the strange creature who so rarely spoke to or around him.
Niwa turned to Halik. “Anything more you send into that . . . grinder of meat will be wasted, General. Too many are already being wasted there, and our reserves are not what they were. I know you sent word that we could hold this land if General Esshk would send us the . . . more mature of his ‘Chosen Warrior’ hatchlings, and I even agree, but we must meet the enemy on ground of our choosing to gain the time for them to arrive.”
Despite himself, N’galsh hissed. Until recently, the chosen hatchlings Niwa referred to were selected by the Chooser, or members of his order, to be eaten at birth. The world as he knew it had gone insane.
“ If he sends them,” Halik growled, glancing darkly at N’galsh.
“If, indeed. Nonetheless, this can be our kind of fight.”
Halik nodded, still staring at N’galsh with contempt. “Yes, it can, and you are right. We will send no more warriors into the fight for the Tongue. The enemy will cross and he will be blooded by the Uul that survive there—those not already made prey.” He took a long breath. “Perhaps it might be different with the chosen warriors, as it is said. Perhaps they can defend. But they are not here now, and we will make this fight for India in the old way, even if just for one final time. But this time, we will strike when we choose.”
A mud-spattered First of One
CHAPTER 4
////// Ghaarrichk’k Madurai
Provisional capital of Grik India after the loss of Ceylon
N ’galsh, Vice Regent of India and Ceylon, was almost keening with woe in the Speaking Chamber of the ancient temple. He was one of the few beings who knew that the odd stone structure festooned with the curious weathered remnants of unknown creatures carved on nearly every exposed surface actually predated the Grik conquest, which had occurred perhaps five hundred years before, but he cared nothing about that now. General Halik had been intrigued by the structure when he first arrived, and General Niwa assumed a troubled expression. But Halik’s interest had quickly turned to the subject at hand, and now he glared at N’galsh with a loathing he could no longer conceal. He’d had just about enough of the officious, elitist, fear-crazed creature, and wondered that N’galsh had not already turned prey despite his Hij status. It had been a rough day for them all. Why could N’galsh not contain himself?
“They are coming, probably with the dawn!” N’galsh cried. “The world burns. It heaves! They will cross the Ceylon Tongue, and if you do not send more warriors, they will soon have all India as well! You must bring your warriors forward!”
“Silence!” General Halik finally snarled. “You lost any entitlement to make demands of me that your exalted station may once have afforded you, N’galsh, when you abandoned Colombo while the Battle of the Highlands was at its peak! It is you who cost us Ceylon, and you attend me now only at my sufferance!”
N’galsh’s mouth snapped shut with a stunned, toothy clack , but he was clearly preparing to open it again when General Orochi Niwa of the Jaaph Hunters, Halik’s implicit co-commander, stepped beside him.
“Consider before you speak, Lord Vice Regent N’galsh,” he warned. “This war was never meant to be decided in India. The enemy was supposed to extend his lines to the breaking point before we struck in earnest. Now, largely because of you, India increasingly becomes the focus of both sides—and our lines of supply are even more tenuous than those of our foes. Regardless of whether General Halik is right or not, the Celestial Mother herself appointed him to command here, and in martial matters even you must no longer interfere.” He shrugged slightly. “The only matters remaining in India now are military and within the province of the Great Hunt. Right now, he may feed you to his lowliest Uul, if he likes.”
N’galsh shrank back from the strange creature who so rarely spoke to or around him.
Niwa turned to Halik. “Anything more you send into that . . . grinder of meat will be wasted, General. Too many are already being wasted there, and our reserves are not what they were. I know you sent word that we could hold this land if General Esshk would send us the . . . more mature of his ‘Chosen Warrior’ hatchlings, and I even agree, but we must meet the enemy on ground of our choosing to gain the time for them to arrive.”
Despite himself, N’galsh hissed. Until recently, the chosen hatchlings Niwa referred to were selected by the Chooser, or members of his order, to be eaten at birth. The world as he knew it had gone insane.
“ If he sends them,” Halik growled, glancing darkly at N’galsh.
“If, indeed. Nonetheless, this can be our kind of fight.”
Halik nodded, still staring at N’galsh with contempt. “Yes, it can, and you are right. We will send no more warriors into the fight for the Tongue. The enemy will cross and he will be blooded by the Uul that survive there—those not already made prey.” He took a long breath. “Perhaps it might be different with the chosen warriors, as it is said. Perhaps they can defend. But they are not here now, and we will make this fight for India in the old way, even if just for one final time. But this time, we will strike when we choose.”
A mud-spattered First of One
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