Tell me this woman lies." "She lies." But Askala's voice had lost its earlier smoothness entirely now, gone thin and brittle. A man watching the careful architecture of years crumble in real time. A frightened widow, easily persuaded by a woman desperate to save her own life. "I persuaded no one." Inaba cut in. "I did not know Nizoni existed until your brother-in-arms here found her himself." "Enough." Kosa's voice cracked like a whip across the whole gathered circle, silencing every voice at once.
His eyes stayed fixed on his son, something breaking visibly behind them, grief and fury tangled together into an expression Wit hoped never to see on another father's face as long as he lived. "The blade is yours." "Fathers do not always know their sons as well as they believe, father." "Do not test me with riddles today, Askala. The blade, Is it yours? Silence stretched. One breath.
Two. "It is mine." Askala said, finally quiet now. All performance draining out of his voice at once. "But that proves only that I lost it. Not that I used it." "Then explain the blood." "I cannot." "Then explain." Kosoka pressed, voice rising.
"Why a widow watched you cross that camp with it drawn and returned without it, wiping your hands clean as though washing away something you did not wish seen?" Askala said nothing. The silence itself became its own confession, louder than any words could have managed. "Why?" Kosoha said, barely above a whisper now. "Your own cousin. Why?" Askala's composure finally shattered entirely.
"Cuz he discovered what I was doing." He snarled, all pretense gone now. Something ugly and desperate taking its place. "Discovered the rifles. Discovered the arrangement. Threatened to bring it before the council himself.
Undue everything I had built towards securing our people's strength against men like Bragg." His eyes went wild, casting toward Yanaba with something close to hatred. Now that the mask had fully dropped. "I did what needed doing to protect us all." And she jabbing a finger toward Yanaba. "She was simply convenient enough to bury the truth beneath. A woman too proud to accept me, humiliated in front of the whole council.
Who would question her guilt once I made certain the story pointed only one direction?" The confession hung in the air, damning complete. No room left for any doubt among the gathered riders. Kosoha sat his horse in silence a long moment. Something ancient and terrible moving behind his eyes. "You have condemned a woman." He said, foment, finally.
Voice gone hollow. "To protect an alliance with the very man selling rifles to divide our own people against each other. You have done this in my name. Wearing my blood as your shield. Father, do not Kosoa said.