Shadow Tyrants (Oregon Files 13)

The general’s sword was now pointed at Ashoka’s chest. The Emperor’s guards had already drawn their swords and were ready to defend him, but they could see that the slightest movement would doom their beloved leader.

“Kathar! You almost beheaded me!”

Kathar smiled and shrugged. “I underestimated your reflexes, Excellency.”

“Are you saying you were trying to kill both of us?”

“She wasn’t bad to look at, but there are many more where she came from. You, on the other hand . . .” Kathar shook his head. “I can see how this war has changed you. You no longer strive for the greatness of the empire. You have become weak.”

One of the guards inched closer, but Kathar pressed the tip of his sword against Ashoka’s chest to stop him.

“If any of you come nearer, I will run him through.”

“If you do that,” Ashoka said, “you will be dead before I hit the ground.”

“Possibly. But then I would be a hero of the empire.”

Ashoka could hear the sound of hooves approaching from the forest. It had to be his brother Vit coming with his archers. If Ashoka could delay Kathar just a little longer, Vit’s men could slay him before his sword moved.

“Don’t you see that conquest is a fool’s errand?” Ashoka asked. “What does it matter if we gain more land unless we improve the lives of our subjects?”

“Because conquest is what will guarantee that our names will be remembered throughout the ages,” Kathar said, his eyes wild with the power he now held in his hands. “Alexander the Great assembled the finest army in history, was never defeated in battle, and ruled over the largest empire the world has ever known. People will be speaking his name until there are no people left.”

Ashoka nodded solemnly. “And then he died at thirty-three and his empire was torn apart in a series of civil wars. Don’t you see that there’s another way?”

“This Buddhism you’ve been speaking about?” Kathar spat. “A waste of time. With our armies, you could have been remembered for even greater conquests. You could have ruled the known world. I won’t let you throw this opportunity away. Maurya will know greatness under my rule. I will be called Kathar the Magnificent. History will remember my name, worshipping it even more than Alexander’s.”

Ashoka looked around at his loyal guards. They would not let Kathar get away with killing him.

“What makes you think you’ll live through the next few moments?” Ashoka asked calmly.

Kathar answered only with a grin. Horses emerged from the forest, but they did not belong to Ashoka’s brother Vit. They were Kathar’s most loyal soldiers, double the number of his guards. They flanked Ashoka’s men, who were now hopelessly outmatched.

“I did not do this on a whim,” Kathar said. “I have been planning this for weeks, scouting out just the spot to ambush you and your men. When I return with your body, I will tell your subjects about how rebellious Kalingan traitors had cut you down. Who else will they turn to but your most trusted general, who has delivered this great but tragic victory for the empire?”

“My brother will avenge me.”

“He will try. But he’s just as weak as you are. If I can defeat you, he will prove no trouble at all.”

Kathar turned to one of his soldiers, whom Ashoka recognized as a top cavalry officer.

“You found them?” Kathar asked.

The officer nodded and took a satchel from his shoulder. He removed a scroll and held it over his head for all to see.

“All nine,” the officer said.

Ashoka felt a chill at seeing one of the nine sacred Scrolls of Knowledge, representing the collected intelligence of the best minds in his kingdom. The fact that the scrolls were here had to mean the Librarian was dead, and now Kathar had everything he needed to rule with absolute power.

Kathar turned back to Ashoka and smiled. “Maybe you now realize that I missed you on purpose before, to give time for my men to arrive. I was keeping you alive until I made sure the scrolls were in my hands. Since they are, you are no longer necessary. Your dynasty ends here. Now.”

Kathar raised his sword for the killing blow as his soldiers charged toward the Imperial Guard.

Ashoka wasn’t going to make it easy for him. He crouched down and twisted to his side as the sword came down, striking his shoulder. The leather armor absorbed part of the blow, but the blade cut deeply into his muscle.

Ignoring the pain, he stood to run, but Kathar had the advantage of height and speed astride his horse. The general drew his sword back for another swing, a maniacal look of bloodlust in his eyes.

Among the din of clashing swords, snorting horses, and screams of dying men, Ashoka heard the distinctive sound of an arrow whizzing by. It struck Kathar’s hand, and he cried out as he dropped the sword.