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Authors: Douglas Hulick

BOOK: Sworn in Steel
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After a moment, Degan nodded and looked away. Brass sighed. Then she pointed at the bundle.

“So you actually got it? Ivory’s sword?”

“And the laws.”

“And the . . . ?” Brass took a stunned step closer. Her jaw hung slack. “You didn’t say anything about the laws, Bronze.”

Degan smiled. “Well, I’ve got to hold something back for the big surprise, don’t I?”

“Can I . . . ?”

“Of course.” Degan set down the canvas, untied the leather laces, and rolled it open. Brass stared down at the three swords and the broken fan and whispered a prayer.

“Silver and Steel’s, too?” she said after a moment.

“Steel’s is a long story.”

“And Silver’s?”

Degan shook his head. I could still see him coming to my room, two nights after I’d woken up in the Lower City, Silver’s sword clutched in one hand, other men’s blood spattered
across his clothing. He hadn’t been willing to tell me how he’d tracked down the sword Wolf had worn when I first met him, just that he had.

“I’d rather tell it all at once,” he said.

“I understand.” Brass knelt down before the weapons and reached out toward Ivory’s sword.

“Getting a bit ahead of yourselves, aren’t you?” said a voice from the main doorway. We looked up to find three degans standing between the open doors. One I recognized from
months ago when I’d been questioned about Degan’s disappearance. That was Gold Degan. The second I didn’t know.

The third was Copper.

She grinned a dark grin at me. I pretended not to notice.

“There’s no harm in looking,” said Brass. Still, she stood without laying hands on any of the weapons.

“There’s every harm if you let Bronze’s offerings to the Order sway you,” said Gold as he came forward. He was a trim, compact man who nonetheless seemed to own the room
just by stepping into it. Silver-haired, slate-eyed, with a measured way about him, I got the feeling that the last place you’d want to be was across a gaming board from this man.
“Don’t forget why we’re here, sister: Iron and Silver are dead, Steel is missing, and now Ivory’s sword conveniently shows up in our fallen brother’s hands? You
don’t gather up that much Oath-bound steel without shedding blood and taking lives.” He stopped and looked at Degan. “Do you, brother?”

“I’m not your brother anymore,” said Degan, his head dropping low as he stared at Gold from under his eyebrows. “I cast away my sword.”

“How convenient for you, then, that we can’t examine it. And where might it be?”

I forced myself to continue watching Gold, to not glance past him toward the doors and courtyard and my mule beyond. If he noticed the effort, he didn’t show it.

“Safe,” said Degan.

“Yes, I’m sure it is.” Gold deigned to turn his eyes to me. “Who’s the rapier?”

“Drothe,” said Copper, stepping up beside him. “You remember: the one who lied to us about Iron?”

“Ah, yes. I didn’t recognize him. What are you doing here, thief?”

“He’s here at my request,” said Degan, stepping in front of me before I could respond. “If it weren’t for Drothe, we wouldn’t have any of the swords, let
alone the laws. He’s the one who got them from Steel.”

Gold looked truly surprised for the first time. “Him? Are you saying that Steel’s dead as well, and that this one killed him?”

“He’s here, isn’t he?”

“And Steel isn’t. Another convenience for you, brother.”

Brass took a step forward as well. “Back off, Gold. The tribunal hasn’t started yet. We’re still waiting on the rest.”

“Hm, yes.” Gold looked over his shoulder at his two companions, then back at us. “Although I have to wonder if it wouldn’t be easier on everyone if we just had the
adjudication now? Call it a field court, if you will, and settle things quickly. Save us all some time.” He smiled. “A show of hands, perhaps?”

“Or of steel,” said Brass, putting her hand on her sword hilt.

The degan beside Copper grinned. “Oh, I don’t think you’d want to choose that option, sister,” he said, putting his own hand on his weapon. There were white dots set in
the ribbon steel that made up the guard, but I couldn’t tell what it was. Pearl? Bone? White opals?

“No, you wouldn’t,” rumbled a voice behind them. “Because once steel comes out in this company, you never know who’s going to walk away.”

A tower of a man stepped into the hall, tall and wide enough to make the entryway look small. He was dark, with broad features that gave nothing away, and a great sword propped up against his
shoulder. He wore a simple brown-and-green-striped tunic and bloused pants, with a head scarf whose pattern looked disturbingly familiar. The sword’s cross guard and ring looked to be of
plain metal, with chips of something gray in it I couldn’t quite make out.

I leaned over to Degan. “Who’s the tree?” I whispered.

“Stone,” he said. “Steel’s brother.”

“His . . . ?” I suddenly found it hard to swallow.

“I know what you mean,” said Degan. “I’ve always found him intimidating as well.”

“Oh, good. That puts me at ease.”

Gold looked from us to Stone, and then smiled. “A fair point, brother. I stand admonished.” He gave a brief bow to Stone, then turned to his two companions. “Let’s take
our ease while we wait for the rest, shall we?”

The three went off to a corner, their heads together.

“I take it that’s the opposition,” I said.

“Something like that,” said Brass. “Gold’s been sensitive about degan blood ever since we lost Bone.”

“Bone?” I said.

“They were together,” said Degan. “Gold took his death hard. He promised to see any degan punished who followed in Ivory’s footsteps.”

“Meaning you.”

“Meaning me now, yes.” Degan let out a long sigh. “You should go,” he said.

“Like hell.”

“You have no standing here. No voice. Better you go before the rest arrive.”

“I didn’t come all this way just to turn around and leave. I came here—”

“I know why you came,” said Degan. “And I appreciate it. But if you stay, the least that will happen is that you get thrown out.”

“‘The least’?” said Brass. “Come, now, Bronze, I don’t think—”

“But I do,” snapped Degan. He took my by the arm and pulled me off to the side, away from everyone else. “Go.” It was almost a plea.

“Why?”

Degan’s eyes raced around the room. He leaned in closer. “Because no one outside the Order is supposed to know what you know. They won’t stand for anyone who’s not a
degan being privy to our internal disagreements, let alone the emperor and the true nature of our service. If Gold or any of the rest realize how much you’ve found out . . .”

“Are you saying they’ll kill me because I know too much?” I said. “That’s not exactly a new development for me, you know.”

“Maybe, but not like this. Not with them. There won’t be any haggling or chatting or debating—they’ll just cut you down. It’s what we do. The time to go is now,
when no one knows where you stand. Get out before things start, so the question remains unanswered.”

“And your sword?” I said. “What do I do about that?”

“Take it with you.”

“What? But I thought—”

“If they get my sword,” hissed Degan, “they can find out you’re still beholden to the Order. After everything else, I’d have you free of that—free of them. I
took the Oath with you because of who you were, because of who you are, to me. They won’t understand that. To them, you’ll just be another tool to use, and I won’t have that. Take
my sword and go.”

I looked up at Degan and smiled. It was good to hear what I’d been hoping to hear. Worth all the miles to hear.

Then I shook my head. “I can’t do that.”

Degan’s jaw clenched. “I can’t let you stay.”

“You can’t make me leave.”

“Oh?” Degan turned, called to Stone. “Sergeant?”

Stone turned his massive head. “Aye?”

“This man isn’t a degan,” said Degan. “Escort him out, please.”

I jerked my arm away from Degan’s grasp. “Like hell,” I said.

“Come, now,” said Stone. His voice, I noticed, while normal for any other man, sounded small in his mouth. “Don’t make me work. The others can tell you I get ornery when
I have to work.”

I thought about dodging, about running, about trying to stave off the inevitable—but it was a room full of degans, with more on the way. What the hell was I going to do, fight them
off?

I sighed and let my shoulders droop. “You’re a son of a bitch,” I said to Degan.

“And you’re welcome,” he said as I headed toward the doors, Stone at my back.

Stone escorted me from the hall, down the long passage beyond, out to the entry to the keep. I stopped at the top of the stairs that led down to the main courtyard, blinking in the morning
light. Stone stopped beside me.

When he spoke, it was without preamble. “Gold tells me you killed Steel.”

I froze.

“Is that true?” he said.

“I . . .”

“Don’t lie, boy. I’ll know.”

Had I? Technically, no: Aribah had performed the final deed, but it hadn’t been for lack of trying on my part. If it were up to me, he’d have died on Ivory’s sword and not a
neyajin
’s blade. But did it matter? And more important, was I going to quibble now, in the face of Wolf’s brother?

“I had a hand in his dying,” I said.

“Credit to you for telling the truth, then.” Stone grunted and cleared his throat. “I just want you to know, before things begin, that I don’t hold grudges when it comes
to Wolf. Not anymore.”

“If it matters, I didn’t—”

“It doesn’t.” He cleared his throat again. “As much as he tried, I don’t think Wolf ever managed to place the Oath before himself. For that reason alone, he stopped
being my brother a long time ago.” The degan looked down, showing me an uneven set of teeth. “I just thought you should know that.”

“Thank you?” I said.

“You’re welcome. Now, leave this place before I’m forced to kill you.”

Chapter Thirty-nine

I
didn’t leave, of course—not really. Oh, I climbed aboard my mule and rode away from the fortress, but only until I was certain I was
being neither followed nor watched. Then, being careful to avoid any degans that were still arriving, I put on Degan’s sword and circled around through the hills until I was able to come at
the place from a different direction.

It wasn’t easy. The fortress was situated on a bluff overlooking a narrow pass. It had been placed wonderfully in terms of defense, and there was no way I would have been able to approach
it with an army even now and stand a chance of taking it against even a dozen degans. But there’s a difference between an army and a man on a mule, and besides, no one had been clearing brush
or worrying about keeping sight lines open or the place defensible for a long time. It took a while, but I was able to find my mule and me—and then just me—enough goat paths and
dried-up washes to make my way up to the wall and then through a gap, well away from the gate and the main courtyard.

I’d been harboring a vague hope of somehow gaining the empty windows or some hole in the hall’s wall or roof to gain a view of the goings-on inside, but reality quickly put an end to
those dreams. Without climbing gear, there was no way I could get to either, and even then I’d have risked being seen by Stone or another degan in the courtyard. Instead, I spent precious
time scouting and skulking about the perimeter of the main building, trying to find a way either through or in. As luck would have it, every door seemed either to be locked or to open on a room or
passage that led away from where I wanted to be.

Finally, as I was passing through what might have once been a garden but was now an overgrown tangle, eyeing the side of a crumbling tower that stood almost close enough to the hall for a
foolhardy jump, I heard them: voices. Just a trace, mind you, and lost on the wind as quickly as they’d been found, but I had the scent. After a bit of searching and listening, I found the
source: a crack the width of my hand in the hall’s outer wall, put in place by a seed that had taken root in some fault in the masonry and become a Djanese maple over the years.

The fault didn’t run straight, and it narrowed as it went in, but that didn’t matter. What I couldn’t see I could hear, and that was enough for the moment. I settled in against
the rough, reddish brown trunk of the tree and put my ear to the gap.

They were shouting. About what, I couldn’t tell, but there were enough voices to make it sound like a hollow buzz through the crack. Eventually, the buzz lessened and I heard Gold’s
voice rise over the others, forcing them down by its sheer weight of authority.

“While I don’t deny the importance of them,” said Gold, “I want to remind everyone why we’re here today. It isn’t to ooh and aah over Ivory’s blade and
the laws Bronze has brought back to us. That’s a noble gesture and an impressive feat to be sure, but their presence doesn’t change the fact that we have three swords on the table
before us without owners, and one more hanging on the wall back in the Barracks House. If anything, those blades underscore the reason for this tribunal: four deaths in less than twice as many
months, and all of them hovering around Bronze. That is why we’re here, brothers and sisters. Don’t forget that.”

“The reason we’re here,” said Degan, his voice cutting through the air like the arc of a sword, “is because of the chasm that exists within the order. Everything
else—the deaths, our lost laws, Ivory’s sword and what it holds—can all be traced back to that. Until we deal with the issue of our Oaths and how they relate to the emperor and
the empire, what I did or didn’t do is minor by comparison.”

“How convenient for you,” said Gold.

“Convenient or not,” said Degan, “it’s true.”

“Why should we even believe you?” Another voice, one I didn’t recognize. “Why are you even here, if not to buy our favor and bribe your way back into the fold?”

“Because he’s come here to put himself at our mercy, is why.” Brass’s silky, easy tones were instantly recognizable. “Bronze brought back the swords
and
the laws. Who of us have tried to do one in the last century, let alone both? Who of us have done anything other than ignore the question that has plagued us since our founding? Who has settled for
the status quo?”

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