Now he’d collapsed on the floor like a child, sobbing. He gripped his head in both hands, nails driven into his scalp. His reptilian Goldsign let out a long, crooning cry.
Jai Long let the door slide shut behind him, unaccountably disturbed. Somehow, he had pictured a man of Gokren’s power and dignity standing over his son’s body with arms folded, demanding recompense from those responsible. Maybe a single tear would roll down his face, or his commanding voice would catch for an instant, as a brief acknowledgement of human grief.
He had never expected Gokren to weep as though an enemy had torn out his own heart.
Jai Long had pushed his feelings aside in favor of action, but now his own grief stirred from where it had settled. Gokren had crumpled at the base of a long table, on which a pile of mismatched furs rested. One of those furs had been flipped back, revealing a pale face and a curtain of dark hair that spilled over the edge of the table.
Sandviper Kral had been the first one to welcome Jai Long when he and his sister had been exiled to the Wilds. He had been the only one to look Jai Long in the eyes instead of staring at the crimson bandages wrapping his face, the only one to visit Jai Chen and tell her stories of the outside world. He was the only one who tried to give two exiles a home.
And there he was, cold on a table.
Because of a spoiled Underlord’s whim and the tricks of his pet Iron.
When the anger slipped its bonds and burned through him, hot and hungry, Jai Long’s hand tightened on his spear-case until the scripted wood creaked and threatened to crack.
Gokren must have heard, because he turned toward Jai Long for the first time, eyes red and face soaked in tears. His voice scraped out wet and raw: “Tell me. Please.”
Jai Long wasn’t sure he’d ever heard the Sandviper chief make a request of anyone.
“It was the Arelius Underlord,” Jai Long said. Gokren stared blankly at the floor, so that Jai Long wasn’t sure if he’d heard. He continued the story anyway. “He approached us in disguise, slipping into the Ruins as a worker. Once inside, he freed himself and his followers, leading them to the prize. He beat us to it by minutes, and we would have surrendered the prize to him if he had only told us his name.
“While I fought his disciple, he distracted Kral so that an Iron child could stab him in the back with some kind of hidden weapon. We believe it was developed by the Fisher Soulsmiths, but an Underlord could have any number of tricks.”
Jai Long watched Gokren for any reaction, keeping his perception open in case the Truegold prepared an attack out of rage. But Gokren only sat there, watching the ground.
“I would have killed him if the Underlord hadn’t revealed himself,” Jai Long said. It sounded like an excuse, but it was only the truth. “But he has no affection for the Iron. He allowed me to take a prize from the Ruins, and he gave me a year. At the end of that time, I will meet his Iron in a duel, and he will not interfere.”
“…where are they now?” Gokren asked.
“The Fishers are keeping their borders tight, but they should have left days ago,” Jai Long said. His information was sadly lacking, but he was confident in his conclusion. The Arelius Underlord had no reason to linger in the Desolate Wilds an hour longer than he had to.
“An Iron,” Gokren mumbled. He pressed one hand against his eyes. “My son…an Iron. They left him no pride when they killed him.”
For his sister, Jai Long had played up Kral’s death in battle to make it seem as though he had met a respectable end. That wouldn’t work for Gokren, so Jai Long stayed quiet.
Gokren took a moment to master himself, then rose. He cast one last glance at Kral’s body, brushing hair away from the pale forehead.
“I know you will avenge him,” Gokren said quietly. Jai Long had come in here expecting a battle, but there was no fight in this man. At least not directed at him. “In a year, you will take back his honor, and I must only endure.”
Gokren straightened, and a shadow of the Sandviper chief’s poise returned. “But I know you will not spend this time idly. What is your plan?”
Jai Long hadn’t been sure how to approach this topic. He had feared that Gokren might learn about the Ancestor’s Spear from one of the Sandvipers and decide to take it away. He wasn’t worried about that possibility anymore.
Placing the long wooden case on the floor, Jai Long flipped it open and revealed the shining white weapon.
Gokren clenched and unclenched his fists, watching the spear. Minutes rolled by as he stared, the acid-green Sandviper on his arm hissing every now and then.
“You’re going back to your clan?”
Jai Long said nothing, which was answer enough.
“Will Jai Daishou stop you?”
The Underlord Patriarch of the Jai clan was a legend; with his own hands, he had built the Jai from a remote clan in the wilderness to an Imperial power. If he acted, Jai Long’s dreams of revenge would melt like snow in the summer sun.
“To him, propriety is the highest virtue,” Jai Long said, bitterness in the words. If the Patriarch had been the slightest bit flexible, Jai Long and his sister would still belong to the head family. “Every step must be taken in its proper order, and he will defend that order to the death. He will not act until his Highgolds, Truegolds, elites, and Elders have all fallen.”
Green light dripped from Gokren’s body, half-Forged madra from the Path of the Sandviper, but he didn’t seem to notice. “They will feed themselves to you, one by one.”
“And by the time Jai Daishou reveals himself, I will be more than his match.” The Underlord had once groomed Jai Long to be his replacement, after all. The Ancestor’s Spear would allow him to close the gap on his own.
But Chief Gokren shook his head. “The gulf between Gold and Lord is wider than you imagine. It requires a certain insight that I’ve never gained.” He flexed his hand into a claw. “If it was only a matter of power, I would have broken through long ago. But you may not need to face him. Rumor says he is dying; is this true?”
Reflexively, Jai Long remained quiet. Those were clan matters, and not to be spoken of before outsiders.
That thought was replaced by disgust in an instant. Years away from the main Jai clan, and Jai Long was still keeping their secrets. How deep their poison sinks.
“Unless they’ve discovered a miracle cure, he won’t live five more years.”
“You only have to avoid him for one. By the time you kill the Iron, you’ll have gutted the Jai clan. Then you retreat west, back here, and we’ll hide you until the Underlord dies.”
Jai Long searched for words, but none came. At best, he had expected the Sandviper chief to berate him for leaving. He’d even come prepared for a fight.
He’d never dared to hope that Gokren would break a long-standing alliance for him. He was tempted to tell the grieving father to reconsider, that he was risking the future of his sect for personal vengeance.