accordingly. The Malwa soldiers crossing the no-man’s land were ravaged by his catapults and his archers, stymied by the moats and walls, butchered at the walls themselves by heavily armored dehgans for whom they were no match in close-quarter combat. The casualties were horrendous, especially among the Kushans who spearheaded most of the assaults. By the end of day, when the attack was finally called off, six thousand Malwa soldiers lay dead or dying on the field of battle. Thirteen thousand had suffered injuries—from which, within a week, another five thousand would die.
In all, in that one day, the Malwa suffered over twenty thousand casualties. Any other army in the world would have been broken by such losses. And even the Malwa army reeled.
Lord Jivita himself did not reel. His fury grew and grew as the hours passed. By sundown, his despairing officers realized, Jivita was still determined to press the attack through the night.
The abyss of total disaster yawned before them. They were pulled back from that pit by an old woman.
When Great Lady Holi clambered painfully up the ladder onto the command tower, silence immediately fell over the small crowd of top officers packed there. Even Lord Jivita broke off his bellowing.
The Great Lady cast only a glance at Jivita.
“You are relieved,” she announced. Her empty eyes moved to a figure standing next to Jivita.
“Lord Achyuta, you are now in command of the army.”
Jivita’s eyes bulged. “You can’t do that!” he screeched. “Only the Emperor has the authority—”
“Kill him,” said Great Lady Holi.
The two guards stationed on the platform stiffened. Hesitated, their eyes flashing back and forth between Holi and Jivita. He was their commander, after all. She was—officially—nothing but—
Nothing—but. They had heard tales. All Malwa soldiers had heard tales.
The Great Lady’s eyes were now utterly barren. When she spoke again, her voice was inhuman. Empty of all life.
“KILL HIM.”
The guards had only heard tales. But the officers on that platform were all members of the Malwa dynastic clan. They knew the truth behind the tales.
Lord Achyuta’s sword was the first to slice into Jivita’s belly, but only because he was standing the closest. Before Jivita slumped to the ground, five other swords had cut and sliced the life from his body.
The two guards
In all, in that one day, the Malwa suffered over twenty thousand casualties. Any other army in the world would have been broken by such losses. And even the Malwa army reeled.
Lord Jivita himself did not reel. His fury grew and grew as the hours passed. By sundown, his despairing officers realized, Jivita was still determined to press the attack through the night.
The abyss of total disaster yawned before them. They were pulled back from that pit by an old woman.
When Great Lady Holi clambered painfully up the ladder onto the command tower, silence immediately fell over the small crowd of top officers packed there. Even Lord Jivita broke off his bellowing.
The Great Lady cast only a glance at Jivita.
“You are relieved,” she announced. Her empty eyes moved to a figure standing next to Jivita.
“Lord Achyuta, you are now in command of the army.”
Jivita’s eyes bulged. “You can’t do that!” he screeched. “Only the Emperor has the authority—”
“Kill him,” said Great Lady Holi.
The two guards stationed on the platform stiffened. Hesitated, their eyes flashing back and forth between Holi and Jivita. He was their commander, after all. She was—officially—nothing but—
Nothing—but. They had heard tales. All Malwa soldiers had heard tales.
The Great Lady’s eyes were now utterly barren. When she spoke again, her voice was inhuman. Empty of all life.
“KILL HIM.”
The guards had only heard tales. But the officers on that platform were all members of the Malwa dynastic clan. They knew the truth behind the tales.
Lord Achyuta’s sword was the first to slice into Jivita’s belly, but only because he was standing the closest. Before Jivita slumped to the ground, five other swords had cut and sliced the life from his body.
The two guards