Gunmetal Gods Read online

  Gunmetal Gods

  Zamil Akhtar

  Copyright © 2020 Zamil Akhtar

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions,” at the email address below.

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  For my wife Jenalyn

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Free Stuff

  Dedication

  Map

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THIRTY-FIVE

  EPILOG

  Want More?

  Quick Glossary

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Map

  ONE

  KEVAH

  Y ou don’t refuse a summons from the Shadow of God, even if you’re a veteran of twenty battles, with a body count longer than a sheikh’s beard. I’d left my anvil weeks ago and journeyed by carriage to Kostany, the Seat of the King of Kings. Finally through the gate, I recoiled at the fishy stench of the streets. But when it didn’t smell like fish, it smelled like home — like the city I’d grown up in and come to love and hate.

  The walk through the grand bazaar left my ears ringing, such was the clamor of folks rushing to buy geometric carpets from Alanya, colorful Kashanese spices, and ghastly metal idols. The hollering and running and bumping awakened memories of clashing armies; already I wanted to flee to the countryside. To relieve the strain, I considered stopping at a coffeehouse to smoke cherry-flavored hookah and down a thimble of their strongest black, but I feared the Shah had waited long enough.

  The Seat of the Sublime Palace was not the highest point in the city; that honor went to the Blue Domes. But the Seat sat on a hill and looked upon Kostany the way many imagined god would. It wore its green dome like a turban, and the rest of the palace shimmered like pearls under the midday sun.

  The plaza was all fountains and gardens and white marble. Imposing spires overlooked the gates. They were watchtowers for the Shah’s loyal slave soldiers: the janissaries. But the young janissary guarding the gate in flashy yellow and rose-colored cottons didn’t believe I was the great hero Kevah, answering a summons from the Shah.

  “You’re the janissary who jousted twelve armored cavaliers while on foot?” he asked, disbelief bulging from his eyes. “Were they drunk?”

  “No, but when your mother sees what I’m going to do to you, she’ll drink herself into a stupor.” An old janissary taunt — harmless since we didn’t know our mothers. “I was guarding this gate at sixteen. By eighteen, I’d left bits of my flesh on seven battlefields. At twenty — you get the idea. I won’t waste breaths on you while the Glorious Star is waiting.”

  The young janissary bit his quaking bottom lip, forced a smile, and said, “The legend returns. His Majesty has been expecting you.”

  He ushered me into the great hall, where the Shah sat upon his golden divan. And above it, the golden statue of the Seluqal peacock stared down with its ruby — literally ruby — eyes.

  “Kevah the Blacksmith,” the Shah said. “I’ve met eunuchs with better titles.”

  He wore lavender brocade with the imprints of peacocks, the sigil of House Seluqal. The plumes of real peacocks augmented the crest of his golden turban, which he’d wrapped just above his shaped eyebrows. At least he had the beard of a warrior — trimmed but thick enough to evoke respect. Beneath the pomp, he still had the hard way about him.

  “Your Glory.” I bent my neck. “A former slave ought to appreciate whatever title he can get.”

  “Oh shut up.” The Shah rose from his divan as the whine of a cicada punctured the air. “I freed you and gave you enough gold so you wouldn’t have to lift a finger, and yet you bang a hammer in the heat all day. You’re an ingrate if I ever saw one.”

  “I could say the same for you.”

  The Shah laughed, his belly shaking. “That’s the Kevah I know. Sharp blade and sharper tongue.”

  “It’s good to see you again.”

  “But it’s not. I wish I never had reason to call on you.” Shah Murad’s sigh was like air escaping a leather sack. “Another magus is stirring up trouble. I’d like you to bring me his head.”

  Not what I expected, but I kept my back straight and tone even. “No ‘welcome home’ feast. No parade. Just straight to business.”

  “Apologies, I mistook you for a soldier. But if it’s a powdering you want, let’s walk.”

  We left the great hall and strolled through a pleasure garden. A breeze blew against the pretty flowers. A hornbill fluttered above the veranda — its green and gold wings flapping too fast for the eye.

  The Shah said, “I require every ambassador to gift a native bird from his kingdom. Now songbirds from the eight corners make a home here.”

  The spear-like beak of the fluffy, round one on the branch above could poke an eye out.

  “Can’t they just…fly away?” I asked.

  “Hah! Even the birds know there’s no place greater. They’ve far more sense than you.”

  “I hope you’ve the sense to find another plan,” I said. “I can’t kill a magus.”

  “But you did kill one. You’re the only man alive who has.”

  “I got lucky.”

  “Luck doesn’t behead a sorcerer.” The Shah studied me. He surely saw hair that had thinned with years and a belly that my tightest belt couldn’t hide. “Tell me, Kevah, what is it you want?”

  “I have everything I need, thanks to you.”

  “It’s been almost ten years since Lunara. You should take a new wife.”

  “We’re still married.”

  “You can’t be married to the dead.”

  I made a fist behind my back. How dare he say that? “She’s not dead.”

  Black birds with silver beaks flew overhead, their dark pupils bathing in red. The Shah raised his eyebrows and looked upon me with pity. “A woman doesn’t show for ten years, she might as well be. The Fount have decreed a husband need only wait five years, and you’ve doubled that. You’re almost forty, aren’t you?”

  “I’ll be forty in seven moons.” I unclenched my fist, hoping he’d get to the point.

  “Gray hairs in the beard and no children. You need a young, fertile woman. I’ve got dozens in my court, from this tir
esome family or that. You kill this magus, and I’ll let you choose whomever you like.”

  “I don’t need a reward to fight on your behalf. You need only ask.”

  Shah Murad’s snicker wasn’t very royal. It reminded me of a younger Murad, who ate the leather off his shoes during the siege of Rastergan. “You think I’m sending you to your death.”

  “I’m ready to die for your house. Always have been.”

  “Fucking imbecile — I don’t want you to die for me. I want you to be the Kevah of ten years past and kill another magus.”

  “Truthfully, I don’t know how I killed that magus,” I admitted. “Never have, really. I think about it all the time. The magus opened the clouds and rained hail upon us, each hailstone sharp as a diamond. One sliced into a man’s helmet and down through his groin, carving him in half. So many died.” I suppressed a shudder. “Then Lunara distracted the magus while I swung my sword. The next moment, his severed head and mask were at my feet.” Describing it was reliving a nightmare. One I’d never woken from.

  “No-no-no.” The Shah glared at me with royal disdain. “I remember you boasting how you’d cut his head clean. You showed off that magus’ mask like it was an ear you’d cut off and hung around your neck. It’s too late to be humble.”

  “That may be, but I was faster and stronger back—”

  “You’re afraid!” The Shah’s shout startled a flock of parrots, sending them fluttering into the sky. The janissary guards straightened their backs. “I don’t ask. I command. You will kill this magus. Afterward, you will come to my court and choose the youngest, fairest, biggest-breasted girl and put Lunara out of your mind for good. Refuse either command, and I’ll feed your head to my birds.”

  Had I left my countryside cottage and journeyed hundreds of miles to die?

  I forced my neck to bend. “I’ve never refused a shah and won’t today.”

  I couldn’t just march to the magus and lop off his head. I had to train. So I sought the man who had trained me when I was a boy.

  Tengis Keep looked as I remembered: three floors of sandstone, a dusty courtyard, and the barracks with all its sour and sweet memories. Save for pigeons fluttering overhead, it was quiet. No janissaries trained in the courtyard, and no one fished at the lakeside. I swallowed nervous dread, which poured through me at the thought of seeing the family I’d abandoned ten years ago. I dusted my caftan, hands jittery, then pounded on the large wooden door.

  I inhaled deeply and prepared to see Tengis’ shocked face, but a young woman answered instead.

  She covered her mouth. “Papa?”

  I had no idea who she was.

  “It’s me, Melodi,” she said.

  Now I saw it: how those cheekbones became lean and that stub nose grew pointed. She hugged me before I could say a word.

  Then she reared back and slapped me so hard my ears rang.

  “You never visited. Never wrote. And then you appear out of nowhere and fail to recognize the girl you adopted.”

  I rubbed my raw cheek as the sting receded. Melodi stomped her foot and disappeared into the interior of the keep. I slipped inside before the door shut. The front hall was not as I remembered: faded, tribal carpets covered the floor. Dust kicked off them as I walked. A musty odor made me cough — was no one maintaining this place? A calligraphy-covered matchlock hung on the wall next to an unpolished scimitar. The stairs creaked as I climbed.

  Tengis was in the solar, sitting on the floor at a low table and banging on a printing press. They imported them from the Silklands and were faster at transcribing than feather pens. He’d strewn metal trinkets and contraptions around the room — what a mess. The ancient man stared at me, mouth agape, and said, “You miserable goatshit.”

  “Ancient” was a mild way to describe him, but all words were shade when it came to Tengis. His skin had so many spots, it resembled a carpet woven by a blind man. “How can you just stand there, gawking?” he said. “Are you a ghost? If so, know that fat ghosts are not welcome in my keep.” He stood and wagged his finger at me. “Get out, or I’ll fetch the exorcist this instant!”

  After convincing him I was real, we went to the terrace for relief from the musty air. I took a seat on a floor cushion.

  “Lunara was too good for this kingdom,” Tengis said. He gave me a mug of fermented barley water and plopped next to me. “Perhaps she’s better off…wherever she is.”

  “I couldn’t keep her safe.”

  Sitting in the house where I’d grown up, nostalgia flowed through me like poison.

  “She didn’t need you to.” Tengis grunted in disgust. In ten years, his tangled hair had gone from gray to white. “I trained and tutored her for the same reason I did for you. Strength and intelligence are ladders for slaves. A girl as beautiful as her would’ve ended up in the harem had I not taught her how to think and fight. And where would you have ended up with those big arms of yours…a blacksmith?”

  The sarcasm stung. “Come on, it’s not a bad profession.”

  “I saw so much in the two of you. The day you married was a day of endless happiness for me. Melodi is lovely, but I wanted more grandchildren.”

  “Sorry to disappoint.”

  “You don’t disappoint me,” Tengis said. “Lat does. Though we may pray ceaselessly for her blessings, she gives and she takes.”

  “She mainly takes from me. She may take my life soon enough.”

  Tengis took a deep chug, then sat back on his floor cushion. The crust around his eyes seemed permanent. “In the ten years you’ve been gone, the Shah has become…restless, to put it mildly. This dispute with the magus should be resolved in peace. The unholy Imperium of Crucis masses its forces to the west, ready to invade at the slightest unrest. A conflict with Magus Vaya and his sycophants would ripen us up.”

  “So I shouldn’t kill him?”

  “Kill him? Even you’d certainly not succeed. This magus is said to be far more terrifying than the one you killed.”

  The chill of the hailstones that cut through my platoon ran through me. What could be more terrifying than that?

  I rubbed my arms. “How do you expect me to disobey a command from the Shah of Shahs and walk out of Kostany with my head attached?”

  “Say you’re training with me and let his viziers talk sense into him. A moon passes and he’ll rescind the command.”

  “I hope his viziers are up to the task.”

  Tengis nodded. “Grand Vizier Ebra is a prudent man. He’s vehemently opposed to conflict. Last year, Shah Murad wanted to invade the isles of Jesia because they stopped exporting his favorite cheese. The man is prone to impulses, which his viziers have learned to reign in.”

  “Ebra is Grand Vizier now? That was quick.” I gulped barley water. “Did we put the wrong man on the throne?”

  “Certainly not. His brother would have been the end of us. I’d take a bit of imbecility and impulsiveness over cruelty and lunacy any day.”

  “So,” I said, “I’m on leave for a month with you and Melodi.”

  “Oh no, this won’t be leave.” Tengis could dismiss your entire world with his snigger. “We’re going to train. War is never far. You’re not old like me. You‘ve no right to be weak.”

  M elodi stood in a bog by the lake, which I now noticed had receded and was barely more than a muddy pond. The soil used to be harder, too. My adopted daughter wore the same yellow dress as when she’d answered the door — except now she held a shamshir in high guard above her head. The blade was thicker than both her arms. Her stance seemed to compress the ferocity of an army into one teenage girl, and her menacing glare the anger of a hundred forsaken daughters.

  “You can’t expect me to fight her,” I said with a cockiness that failed to disguise my fear.

  Tengis’ conniving laugh unnerved me. “I’ve trained her with sword. I’ve trained her with spear. She’s learned the mace and crossbow. And even the matchlock, something you never cared for.”

  “I hate guns.”


  “Guard up!” Melodi soared. Steel rang as she slammed my high guard and pushed me back. My adopted daughter was freakishly strong.

  “Melodi, go easy,” I said, breathing fast, “I haven’t dueled in years.”

  “Grandpa always said you were a complainer.” She charged, slammed into my middle guard, and staggered me. Would have drawn blood with her thrust had I not stepped back.

  Wielding a sword in battle felt so…unfamiliar. It might as well have been a giant cucumber. Had I really regressed so much in ten years? What happened to the skills that made me a hero among the janissaries?

  Tengis stood like a dervish in meditation, hands crossed. “You proud of your slowness? A pregnant woman would make a more fitting opponent.”

  Melodi slid and swept my feet with her shamshir. I jumped and landed on half a foot, just missing an anthill. Instead I fell on my knees into mud.

  “Can we do this somewhere with solider ground?” I said as Melodi put her sword to my neck, concluding the duel.

  “You must be tired, Papa.” She clanked her sword into her scabbard and tousled her inky hair. “Hope you’ll do better tomorrow.” Her disappointed sigh sealed my humiliation.

  Minutes later, I was scrubbing my boots at the lakeside.

  “What the hell kind of girl did you raise?” I asked.

  Tengis watched me, his nose ruffled in disgust. “A girl who wouldn’t care if her favorite shoes got some dirt on them.”

  I chaffed at the boot’s sole. “I just had these made. Do you want me to trail mud through the Sublime Palace?”

  “You’re a soft, well-fed ninny. When is the last time you fasted?”

  I almost retched at the question. Tengis would make us fast from sunrise to sunset, in the way of the saints, at least ten days of the month. There were few things I hated more. I blamed fasting for why I was fat now — I had to eat enough to make up for all that. “I once went three days without eating in the caves of Balah.”

  “So ten years ago, like every accomplishment to your name.”

  “Saving a shah. Killing a magus. Deposing another shah, ending a war of succession, and crowning his brother. I’d say I accomplished enough for a lifetime. It’s charitable to let someone else have a bit of glory. Who knows, Melodi could be the next me.” My eyes were closing. I needed sleep. I’d paid eight gold coins to the coachman to get to Kostany, and all that bought me was a bumpy carriage. Bed bugs plagued the caravansaries along the way, so I’d woken each night scratching. “Tengis, is she your last one? Will there be more like Melodi?”