Steel and Sorrow (17 page)

“What do you mean? They’re fine,” said Janik.

Krytien’s hand shot out and tendrils of sorcery snaked toward the various mages on the training ground. It seeped through their defenses and as it did, several forgot themselves and ducked. The sorcery struck Yorn in the chest, knocking him to the ground.

Krytien stalked up to the mages who stared uneasily at him and then at Janik. He reached the green robe mage. “Now do you think they were fine?”

Lufflin came barging up beside Krytien. “What in the name of the One Above is the matter with you? You could have killed him!”

“Yes! I could have! And I could have killed you too as you cowered down next to him. The only one who stood their ground and took this exercise seriously was Nora.” Krytien watched Lufflin shoot her a look. The girl averted her eyes, almost ashamed for her efforts.

Too bad that she seeks his approval. There is a lot of potential there. Though they all have potential if they would just listen to me. Lufflin even has a great technical understanding of things. He just has trouble applying the theory.

“Who do you think you are?” asked Janik as he helped Yorn to his feet.

“I’m the one trying to ensure you don’t get killed. Tomalt’s mages won’t be as gentle as I was.”

“You never studied at Estul. You weren’t a student of Amcaro,” fired back Lufflin.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Your methods break every rule we’ve ever been taught,” said Lufflin.

“That’s because there are no rules in war. You do whatever it takes to get the job done. Amcaro was a great mage who lived for hundreds of years, but he saw very little battle.”

“But he studied under Sacrynon before he went mad. Sacrynon helped Aurnon the First conquer all of Cadonia and Thurum. Who else would have been a better teacher?” Janik said.

“Yes, and Amcaro taught us as Sacrynon taught him,” added Yorn.

“Theory and practical use are two different things. The sooner you learn that, the better we’ll all be. Theory goes out the window when the man across from you is actually trying to kill you. Or when you see the men you were working to protect, die because you failed.” Krytien’s voice had taken on a solemn tone as he thought over the countless battles of his life. The battle at Asantia stayed with him the longest. “Trust me, you don’t want to know that feeling.”

An eerie silence hung in the air. Krytien cleared his throat. “Go. Get some rest. But be ready to work on this tomorrow while we travel.”

* * *

Alone in his tent, Krytien rubbed the ache out of his tired legs and sipped from a cup of wine. The frustration of dealing with the young mages had worn him down.

And it’s only beginning.

He understood their trepidation. After all, they had once studied under the best. Krytien got up from bed and went over to the table in the corner. He opened the bag he had packed earlier and pulled out a small, red leather book.

Despite all he told Drake about not wanting to read anything by Amcaro, he couldn’t help himself from taking the private journal of the High Mage. Krytien had discovered Amcaro’s personal quarters. It had only taken him a few moments to break down the security wards after figuring out their pattern.

Krytien stared at the book lying flat on the table top. Though he had taken it with the intent to learn more about Amcaro, Krytien had yet to work up the nerve to crack it open. However, he finally had the nudge he needed. He had trained other mages before, but never any so young and stubborn. He wondered if the man he had once looked up to had ever felt as discouraged as he did.

* * *

Drake pawed at his eyes with the palms of his hands, but when he removed them his vision still blurred. He blinked at the pages and slowly the words came back into focus. He knew he should get some sleep. He’d have to wake in a couple hours as the army exited the city. Still, he hadn’t gone as far in his research as he had hoped. He had been too busy dealing with Raker’s continuing downward spiral to focus on the texts before him.

I hope Kaz is right and he gets better once we get on the road.

Drake had already passed some helpful bits of information on to Kaz, especially a few items related to the works of General Victas of the Quoron Empire. He gave one text that focused less on his military exploits and more on his diplomacy to Elyse. He still had much more to get through in regards to military strategy, general politics, and other miscellaneous items before he would be able to look over the books he took from Estul Island on a hunch. Some of those dealt with ancient sciences, others lost cultures and geography, and a few more random items that just looked interesting.

He rubbed his eyes again.
Just a few more pages, then I’ll go to bed.

The door swung open and sent a gust of wind through the room that rustled the pages. Drake turned as Lufflin barged in.

“You idiot. Be more careful with those pages,” he said.

“You’re the one who barged in.”

“I assumed you had the sense to get some rest for a change. Apparently a lack of brains is common in your little mercenary group.”

Drake smiled to himself. “Krytien work you too hard?”

Lufflin growled. “Shut up. Put the book away and leave.” He plopped down on his cot and rolled onto his back.

“In a little while. I’m not finished.”

“I say you are. This is my room and I’m tired. One Above knows that this is the only chance I have to get any peace from you or that idiot mage.”

“Now you know how I feel,” Drake mumbled.

“What was that?” snapped Lufflin as he sat up.

“Nothing. Just getting my things together.”

* * *

Kaz woke with a start and sat up in bed. Sweat covered his body head-to-toe. The sheets lay bunched in a ball next to him, torn in spots. In a fit of anger, he threw the sheets to the floor.

Glimpses of what had been his past had begun to haunt his dreams more frequently than before. Between the nightmares and the random traces of memories that flashed in his mind during the day, Kaz struggled not to take his anger and frustration out on his men.

He faced pressure everywhere he turned. Everyone counted on him to be an ideal he didn’t know if he could live up to. However, Kaz felt no greater pressure than what he put on himself. If the small memories he had could be trusted, he couldn’t allow himself to be that man again.

Kaz looked out his window toward the low hanging moon. Dawn was still hours away, but he climbed out of bed all the same. The lingering fears from his dream would prevent him from getting anymore sleep tonight.

I’ve got too much to do anyway,
he thought as he dressed.

* * *

Dressed in full armor, columns of soldiers paraded down the streets of Lyrosene. Crowds of people sent them off with supportive cheers. Children waved at the passing men, some pointing as they recognized fathers or brothers in the ranks. Women watched and wiped away tears.

Elyse could feel her own eyes welling as she sat mounted near the city’s gate. She worked to keep her emotions at bay, smiling and waving as the army marched out over the open road. She needed to be strong.

The clattering sound of supply wagons announced the end of the long columns. Kaz had disagreed with the parade, or ‘spectacle’ as he called it, wanting to move out before dawn in the most efficient way possible.

Another thing we disagreed on.
She saw a few soldiers wipe away the redness in their eyes as they passed under the portcullis.
The men need to know how much we care for them.

She turned out toward the expansive countryside where the army snaked south across the winding road. A lone horseman rode up the lines toward Elyse. Kaz’s helm rested on the horn of his saddle and the sun shone brightly off his scalp. She felt her stomach tighten as he approached. They hadn’t spoken since Gauge had interrupted them. Kaz had ridden out at the army’s head earlier that morning and, other than a formal bow from the saddle, had made no move to speak with her. The gesture had tugged at her heart, knowing like any other soldier he could die and never return.

She held her breath as he pulled in beside her. “Your Majesty,” he said, bowing. “Can we speak in private?”

Elyse turned to either side, dismissing her personal guard. Kroke who now accompanied her moved out of earshot with them.

“You wished to say something, Commander?”

“Your Highness. Elyse,” he whispered her name. “I didn’t want to leave . . .” he started, trying to find the right words.

“. . . on such poor terms?” she said, finishing his thoughts.

“Yes.”

“Nor did I.”

Kaz cleared his throat. “I wanted you to know that I will not support Illyan any longer. I should trust your judgment as you trust mine.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

They sat waiting, each appearing unsure what to say next. The last supply wagon rolled by and the roaring crowd quieted. People shuffled along the cobbled streets as they went about their business.

“I don’t want to keep you from your duty,” said Elyse finally.

Kaz looked around and nodded. “Do you have any last orders?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Be careful. And come back. I’ve already lost so much,” she croaked and turned her head away, surprised she admitted such a thing.

Kaz reached out and touched her hand. “I will always come back.” He turned her hand over and opened it. He placed the head of a small single flower into her palm and closed her fingers around it. Elyse saw what looked like a smile as he wheeled his mount around and rode back toward his army.

Chapter 13

Weeks of traversing the unforgiving southern forests had not been part of Tobin’s original plan. Each day his army covered less ground than the day before, fighting for every inch against Charu’s staged ambushes and other traps the land offered.

Though Tobin expected the guerilla tactics of Charu’s smaller forces, the Blue Island Clan forces still eroded under the constant assault. Even though they inflicted more punishment than they suffered, Tobin knew he could not continue with their current path.

Walor rode up. The horses had once been part of the Yellow Plain Clan and so far had done them little more than suck up resources. The terrain had not been ideal for any extended use of cavalry.

“Charu’s waiting atop the next rise with a large host,” said Walor.

“He’s been funneling us here then.” He swore. Tobin looked over his shoulder at the thousands of men behind him and the miles of land they had covered. “And we can’t fall back to more favorable ground without him harassing us.”

“The Kifzo wouldn’t understand another withdrawal, regardless of your decision behind it.”

“I know. But winning under these circumstances could hurt us later.”

Tobin usually would only be so open with Nachun, but he knew he could trust Walor.

Walor pointed north. “Can we skirt around their position and come at them from a different angle? It would not be a retreat.”

Tobin shook his head. “No. The maps show that land isn’t suited to handle a host of our size. We’d have to leave most of our mounts and carts behind to make the trip and then split our forces.”

“So then we attack?”

“Yes. Let’s finalize our plan.”

* * *

The place of battle favored the defenders in every way—a wide, gradually ascending mound of rich black dirt, wet from a recent rain. Outcroppings of gray rock and random berry bushes littered the slope. Hard pines with low branches flanked the hill.

Tobin decided that crossbowmen positioned behind several lines of heavy infantry would be effective as the trajectory of their arrows could avoid the hanging tree limbs. He hated how limited his options had become under the circumstances, and wondered why he ever agreed with Soyjid’s route to Feruse. He took solace in knowing that Nachun’s improvements to their weaponry would make up for his men’s vulnerable position.

And then it will just be a battle of wills.

“By your command, Warleader,” said Walor.

“Give the signal.”

Walor complied and soldiers began a slow, disciplined march up the rise, heavy boots sloshing and popping in the mud.

The enemy waited patiently some two hundred yards away.

“Tell the shamans to begin,” said Tobin.

Walor relayed the message and moments later a strong wind pushed against Tobin’s back and toward Charu’s lines. Fire and some of the more aggressive sorcerous attacks would not do in such a wooded area. Tobin hoped the wind would reduce the effectiveness of Charu’s archers.

Shortly afterward, a gust of air pushed against Tobin’s face and he knew Charu’s shamans now worked against his own. Arrows followed, cascading down toward his men. The Blue Island Clan’s shields went up and projectiles bounced away with little effect.

“That was easier than I expected. If the ground were more favorable, we’d be susceptible to a cavalry charge though,” said Walor.

“Charu doesn’t have horseman with enough skill to effectively take advantage of that in this muck.” Tobin glanced over his shoulder where thousands of horses and warriors that had once been part of the Yellow Plain Clan waited. “And given the angle of the hill, we can’t use ours either.”

The Blue Island Clan’s advance continued despite the constant battering of spear and arrow.

“Does Soyjid have the Gray Marsh Clan in position?” asked Tobin.

“Yes. He’s leading his men north toward the rock face. If he gets there quickly, he should be able to harass Charu’s lines.” Walor paused. “I wish you would have let someone else take that role. You admitted yourself that he didn’t have to lead his men in order to contribute.”

“He won’t be at the front, and it was something he desired to do.”

Walor did not respond.

The Blue Island Clan’s crossbowmen began firing into Charu’s lines. They proved more effective than Charu’s archers as enemy warriors fell and rolled downhill. Their smaller wooden shields failed to provide the same level of protection as the wider steel-lined shields Tobin’s men carried.