Resurrected Soldiers: The Tyrus Chronicle - Book Three (15 page)

When we joined the others, we jumped off our mounts in unison.

We each hit the ground hard, and lay flat as the wave of power ran above us, practically ripping the air right from our lungs. A high shrilling noise buzzed so that I couldn’t hear a blasted thing. My entire body shook. My insides felt as though they were going to come up my throat or out my rear. Never had a destruction globe done that to me before.

Then just when I felt I might die, everything stopped. Complete silence followed.

I sat up, blinking, once more aware of the wound in my arm. I must have hit it when jumping from my mount. It bled worse than before.

I looked around as did everyone else. My ears rang.

“Everyone all right?” I asked. My voice sounded a little like I spoke into an old clay jar.

“What?” several mouthed.

Looks of confusion came from others as fingers went into ears. Instinctively, I did the same hoping a wiggle might restore some hearing. Though my resistance ensured that little of the sorcery affected me directly, physical consequences brought on by sorcery could and had harmed my ability to hear some. A loud noise was still a loud noise, regardless of the catalyst to it.

I went around touching everyone, using my resistance to speed their recovery and draw away sorcery.

Our hearing slowly returned, mine faster, but I wondered if the sorcery had done permanent damage to the others especially. If so, I hoped it could be restored by the healers. A muted sense of sound would do us no favors on upcoming missions.

The horses we managed to save stood farther back behind a rock cluster. They looked rough, but surprisingly all lived.

I did a count of Hamath’s men and saw he was three short. I held up three fingers and he understood, answering with a nod.

Boaz caught my attention next as he knelt over Maksim. His head was bowed in prayer. Maksim’s chest did not move.

One of mine dead too.

Though our casualties paled in comparison to what we had inflicted on the enemy, it still stung to know I had failed those four.

“Sir,” said someone behind me.

I faced Reuma. She and Ira stood on the top of the rise, staring out in the direction of the Geneshan camp.

“Did it take most of the camp out?” I asked. The globe was much stronger than my experience with others.

“Most? No.”

I hustled up the rise and stood beside Reuma.

My hanging jaw joined theirs.

There was no camp. In fact, there wasn’t much of anything for a mile in either direction. Certainly not any sign of life. Instead, a massively wide crater, probably ten feet deep, remained. I thought I saw bits of debris—cloth, armor, and maybe even a few body parts. But not much else.

“Oh,” I said.

“Do you think Balak has anything else like that lying around?” asked Reuma.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I’m sure going to find out.”

Gods, a few more globes could put a stop to any Geneshan army.

CHAPTER 13

According to Balak, the High Mages had hesitated to create the destruction globe. They couldn’t guarantee the strength and stability of it since sorcery had changed with the eruptions. During the process, one of the High Mages almost died. Therefore, even after I explained what had happened, Balak would not entertain the idea of creating anymore of the weapons. He said he wouldn’t lose any High Mages until he was ready to initiate his plan at Hol.

I understood. I just didn’t like the decision.

Though I understood Balak’s decision about the globe, he was not so understanding about my choice to defy his orders. Even though my replacement successfully continued training the army as I had instructed, the risk of losing me was enough for Balak to tear me a new one. The injury to my arm only helped make his point.

Thankfully, the yelling occurred inside his tent so few, other than his personal guard, heard it. Though I had stood up to him previously, I chose not to this time. I had broken an order and deserved the tongue lashing I got because of it.

He had threatened me with shackles, and Balak was never one to renege on a promise. At least he saw the ridiculousness of me walking around with a chain on my wrists shackled through my belt down to my ankles. Not exactly an inspiring vision of a commander. Still, he chained my ankles. He gave me enough slack not to hinder my stride, but it was restrictive enough to make his point.

Within the first two hours of leaving his tent, someone decided it was time to challenge me again. I didn’t blame them. I was a much easier target with my legs hindered. I presumed they hoped to take me off guard, but I was no fool and had expected that someone wouldn’t be unable to pass up the opportunity.

They did me the service of challenging me in the open which allowed for another opportunity to drive home the point that I would not be beaten. In fact, I used the confrontation as a learning experience. The chain around my ankles came in handy after I took the soldier to the ground and wrapped the metal links around his neck until he submitted.

A soldier should learn to use everything at his disposal as a weapon.

CHAPTER 14

As Ava stared out at the bleak landscape from the top of another recently formed low hill, she wasn’t really sure where she stood on the existence of gods and goddesses at the moment. Her hatred remained constant.

Ava and her brother had often wondered about the existence of gods and goddesses as children. They had both changed their opinions several times over their lives. The one thing that never changed was their opinion of said gods. If fake, they hated the divine beings for the way people seemed to follow and worship something that was nothing more than a figment of imagination. If real, they hated the deities for the inability to do anything worthwhile.

Like stopping the end of the world.

It seemed like they were purposefully doing everything they could to stop her from getting south. Weeks had passed, yet they were barely any closer to the Southern Kingdoms. Rivers had appeared in spots they weren’t supposed to, giant fissures cut through what once was open land, rocky terrain had sprung up out of previously rich forest. She had seen these things before, of course, as they had journeyed south before Tyrus left the group. The main challenge was that instead of being on the lookout for small bands of raiders, small armies now blocked the clear paths in the land.

And we have no hope of defending ourselves against them. We keep training, but really we’re too thin in numbers to fight the forces we’re seeing if it comes right down to it.

Fifty Malduks here. A hundred Geneshans there. Gods, we must have passed seven hundred soldiers by now. And that’s only the ones we know about.

She stared at smoke drifting up from a distant tree line where Eder said another army rested. They, like all the others, appeared to be traveling north.

Heading right to you, big brother. I hope Balak knows that.

Her gut tightened.

How many more are out there? What’s with this big convergence? Are the Geneshans trying to take Turine while it’s in shambles? She looked around. Why would they want it now?

She shook her head.

Really Ava? That’s what you’re going to think on? If the Geneshans really want this hellhole so badly, then let them have it.

She turned her attention to where Abigail helped Nason clean half a dozen rabbits. Like Ava, the girl’s connection to sorcery had improved. Though for Abigail, her strength was in her ability to connect with animals on some base level.

On the road with resources scarce, Ava and the girl’s mother Dinah, convinced Abigail to find creatures that had survived the eruptions. If she could influence them to approach the group, they could be trapped and eaten.

The girl might be the most important member of our group at the moment.

“Aunt Ava!”

She wheeled as Zadok came running toward her, waving his hands furiously. She caught lots of movement back by camp near the others. Swearing, she ran toward him, knowing immediately that whatever Zadok had to say couldn’t be good.

“We need to leave now,” he huffed.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Damaris—”

Ava went cold.

“What about her?”

“She killed a Geneshan scout.”

Her eyes widened. “What!”

“Just a few seconds ago. She just jumped right up, grabbed a spear, and dove into some nearby bushes. By the time everyone went in after her she was standing over a dead Geneshan. It was unbelievable. No one else had heard a thing.”

“Crap. There could be others nearby. We need to leave now,” she said hurrying along.

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

She gave him a look. “Not fast enough.” She called out while running. “Everyone pack up and start moving now!” she yelled. “Massa take point.”

Massa replied. “Which way are we going?”

“Away from the blasted army that’s camped behind us,” she said pointing.

He stared at her dumbly.

Her arm shot out. “Ao’s teats! West! Go west!”

She stopped next to the Geneshan scout’s body as her fingers began to crackle. A bloody hole marked the center of its chest.

Ao-be-damned, that’s good stabbing.

She wasn’t sure if she had enough power in her to dispose of the scout without leaving a trace.

But I can at least hide it.

She cursed her muted powers.

She sighed, thinking about how those parlor tricks had helped conceal their movements thus far.

Better than nothing, I guess.

“Good grief, Zadok,” she muttered to herself. “Can’t even gripe to myself without thinking on the positive.”

* * *

Hours later, when Ava finally decided that no one was after them, she caught up to the main body of the group. Exhausted from covering their back trail, she decided to slow their pace. Not stop, but slow. If nothing else, the fear of discovery had spurred many to move at speeds that they hadn’t been able to muster in weeks. Ava wanted to use that fear to her advantage and make up for lost time.

They’ll sleep better tonight too which should cut down on complaints. A win for everyone. Or at least two wins for me.

Ava caught up with Dinah. Abigail and Nadav walked beside her. Their heads swiveled about, searching what remained of the forest around them with curious eyes. There was almost no brush. Well, almost no living brush. Bushes that Ava imagined had once been green and full of life, wilted low, their branches and stems dry, breaking off easily as those in the group pushed them aside to make better haste.

Ava readied a spell to hide those breaks. She was tired from casting concealment spells most of the day, but all her efforts over the last few weeks had improved her stamina and control when it came to sorcery.

It’s a good thing with the mess they’re making. A blind man could track us.

She looked up. Not all the trees were dead or dying, a few even looked like they might be making headway on survival, which was a pleasant surprise. The tiny patches of yellow and green against so much brown and gray stood out like a rainbow after a spring rain. Maybe it was her imagination, but there even seemed to be a smell of new life in the air cutting through the lingering scents of wood smoke and sulphur.

The smallest bit of hope came to life in her chest.
Is the worst truly over and the land beginning to heal? Is the world not really ending?

She shook her head. She knew the dangers of letting that hope blossom.
This new life could all end with the next eruption.

“Dinah, could I borrow your kids for a moment?”

Boaz’s wife’s eyes narrowed. A hand went to each of the two youth’s shoulders. “Depends.”

Ava smiled. Nadav was not blood, but since rescuing him from the briars, he had become family.

“Don’t worry. Nothing dangerous. Just need them to pass the word to Massa and then everyone else that we can slow our pace a bit.”

Dinah nodded. “That’s fine.”

“Good,” said Ava. She instructed the two kids. “Tell everyone to be more careful with the bushes too. We’re trying to avoid notice, not draw it by leaving a trail a mile wide.”

“No problem,” said the boy, running behind Abigail a moment later.

“How are they doing?” Ava asked when it was just her and Dinah.

“Better than most. Some days better than me, to be honest. They miss Boaz.” She paused. It was obvious the mention of her husband’s name had gotten to her. “And Nadav still has some nightmares about what happened to his family, as well as the briars. But, he and Abigail will endure. They’re both strong and lean on each other as brother and sister.”

“It’s good that they have each other.”

She thought of Tyrus and wished she could talk to him again, just for a little while. Not even about anything of substance either, just long enough to pick at him and see his raised eyebrow.

“You all right?” asked Dinah.

She blinked. “Yeah. Just tired.”

“You should try to get to sleep early tonight.”

Ava started to give her a look, but stopped when she saw the hint of a smile tug at Dinah’s mouth.

Ava snorted.

“Sorry, I know it was a stretch. Hard to make a decent joke these days.”

Ava patted her arm. “Nope. You did good.” She looked up as Abigail and Nadav came running back down the line.

Gods, those kids are fast.

“Well, I should probably check on a few more people,” said Ava.

I don’t do enough of that.

“How about you just worry about one right now?” Dinah asked, nodding over to Damaris. “She’s been walking alone like that since she killed that Geneshan. Won’t let anyone go near her.”

“What makes you think she’ll let me get close?”

“Because you have a tendency to do as you please,” she said, unable to hide the amusement in her comment.

Ava smiled again. “That I do.”

They parted and Ava caught up with Damaris.

The woman walked with her head down, hands clenched tightly at her side. There was little swing to her arms, muscles bunched. Most of her body appeared rigid, even her long blonde hair bounced little across her shoulders despite the up and down steps over the uneven terrain.

Though Damaris looked tense, something was obviously on her mind, but she was not distracted. Her eyes darted across the ground, stepping carefully so her stride did not once falter. It was a level of focus that Ava had not seen from her before.

As Ava moved closer, she saw that dried blood spattered Damaris’s bunched hands, dark against her light skin. The blood stood out more on her faded green dress.

Ava looked a hundred yards ahead to a small patch of rock that jutted out from the forest floor.

She cleared her throat. “We can stop up ahead by those boulders if you’d like? It would give you a chance to change your clothes and clean up.”

“Don’t make any special concessions for me. I can manage,” Damaris muttered.

“I know. But I thought you might want to wear something without blood on it. Or at least wash your hands?”

She shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. I’m surprised you haven’t started to cramp yet as tightly as you’re clenching your body.”

Damaris looked at Ava, a confused expression on her face. Then she glanced down at her hands, blinked, and finally opened them. “Better?” she asked.

“You tell me.”

“Look, I’d really prefer to be alone right now.”

For a moment, Ava thought about giving Damaris what she wanted. Who was she to pry and tell someone else what they should or should not talk about? She hated when people did that to her. Tyrus was worst of all. It’s not that he wouldn’t allow her to sulk or be contemplative. He just wanted her to talk about what was on her mind, saying it was better to have a conversation about what bothered her with someone other than herself.

As much as I hate to admit it, I’d feel better after I calmed down from the anger of him prying out my worries.

Unsurprisingly, the idiot rarely follows his own advice. I’d push some, but not enough when he got quiet. Maybe I should have. Maybe it would have helped him carry his burdens, regardless of whether he hated me or not.

“I’m waiting for you to tell me what you’re thinking about,” said Ava bluntly.

“Didn’t I just say I wanted to be alone?” scowled Damaris.

“You did. But I’m just going to ignore that comment.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m stubborn.”

The silence between them returned. Ava worried that Damaris might be just as stubborn, which meant that for all of Ava’s desire to get her to open up, the woman would clamp down harder out of spite.

Then what? Hold her down to get her to talk. Yeah, that would go over well.

Damaris spoke softly, “I killed a man today.”

“You did.”

“I’ve never done that before.”

Ava frowned. “You haven’t? I would have thought you had when those raiders attacked us on the road after Uman. When me and Tyrus came up on everyone after taking care of the attackers behind us, there were bodies everywhere.”

Damaris shrugged. “I guess it’s possible. But I’m not sure. I had a bow then, releasing arrows from a good distance away. I don’t know if what I did killed anyone.”

“And this was close. Personal.”

“Yes. No denying what happened or passing the credit on to someone else. I stabbed a man in his back as he tried to sneak away.” She paused. “Twice in the back,” she added. “Then he rolled over and I stabbed him again in the chest. Then he went still. I didn’t think I could do something like that.”

“Most people don’t ever think they can. It was like that for me the first time I killed someone. But you do what you have to. Had you let him go, we’d already be dead or captured. No question about it.”

“I know. And I’m not questioning whether I made the right call.”

“So what exactly is bothering you then?”

“The fact that I didn’t feel like I expected I would. It felt . . . right.”

Understanding hit Ava like a mace. Of course. Why didn’t I see that?

“That’s reasonable.”

She frowned. “Is it?”

“Sure. You’ve been tossed about a lot these last few months. You’ve had to watch acquaintances, friends, and your father die.” She gestured in front of them. “And none of us knows what we’ll face ahead. You were in control when you killed the scout. You saw a problem and you acted. Not on someone else’s order. You did it because you thought it was the best thing to do in that instant. That can be very empowering.”

Damaris clenched and unclenched her jaw, mouth pressed tight as she considered Ava’s words. She exhaled slowly. “I don’t want to be a killer.”

“Killing one man who would have killed you if given the chance doesn’t make you a killer. It makes you human. I’d have done the same.” She paused, thinking of how to make her point sink in more. “Tyrus would have done the same. Your father would have too.”

“It’s just . . .” she paused. “I keep replaying what happened in my mind, noticing details I didn’t even think about in the moment.”

“That’s natural too.”

“Is it natural to want to do it again?”

Ava cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“People like that took my father, forced your brother away, caused Turine nothing but problems for over a decade, built the stupid artifact that caused this mess. I finally had someone to focus that anger on and it felt good. I want to make someone else hurt. I never used to think things like that.” She shook her head. “This is all so confusing. It’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.”