Read Steel and Sorrow Online

Authors: Joshua P. Simon

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Historical, #Sword & Sorcery

Steel and Sorrow (42 page)

“I’ve thought about that as well. He had nothing to gain by lying.”

“Which means someone set you up.”

Elyse nodded. “And whoever that is will likely try to do the same to others while I’m away from Lyrosene. I’ll have to send word to Gauge in order to warn him.”

“I’ll get several messengers ready to leave tonight.”

“Good.”

Kaz cleared his throat while standing over a map. “Before we do that, we need to determine the best route for you to return home.” He started to trace his finger over a road. “I think that if you head east and cross—”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Kaz looked up. “What?”

“I’m staying here with you and the army.”

He swallowed. “It’s not safe here. You need to go back to the capital.”

“If I’m not safe around the thousands you command, then I won’t be safe anywhere, let alone on the road back to Lyrosene.”

“You won’t be alone. I’ll send men with you.”

“Men you can’t afford to lose,” said Elyse. “I told you that Olasi is dead and Markus has complete control of the army. He and Conroy’s forces are much better trained and commanded than Tomalt or Bronn’s. You’ll need every man available to face them.”

“Jeldor is supposed to meet back up with us once he finishes off Tomalt. Our numbers will be fine then.”

“Rygar told me that was your plan. But we both know that you can’t sit around forever. Conroy will try to take advantage of your position and you’ll be forced to act while undermanned. Besides, the remainder of Bronn’s forces are still out there. What if they attack?”

“Then we fight.”

“Why not retreat and fight another day?” she asked.

“We’d have to face them eventually. Better to choose the place ourselves. Besides, if Jeldor fails, we will have to deal with Tomalt during a retreat. I’d rather deal with as few obstacles at a time as possible.”

“And the more men you have to face each obstacle, the better your chance of success is. My place is here. That is my final word on the matter.”

Kaz cocked his head at the strength he heard. “You’ve grown stronger.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think and reflect on my mistakes.”

Kaz knew he would not be able to sway Elyse’s mind and seeing her again, he realized he didn’t want to. He missed her as well. And despite her disheveled state, he could not help but admire her beauty.

Kaz nodded. “Is there anything I can do to help you fix them?”

“Yes. I want to send a message to Illyan, apologizing for my mistake and tasking him to start work on certain ideas of his. I also want to send a separate letter to Gauge informing him of my decision so that he can contain any of the backlash my decision might have from Phasin and his contingent in the council.”

“Makes sense.”

“But first, I want to see Bronn.”

Kaz raised an eyebrow. “Now? I thought you might like to rest for the night and do that in the morning.”

Elyse shook her head. “No.”

“Do you want me to bring him here?”

She grinned slightly. “I’d rather see him as he is.”

* * *

Krytien wanted to distance himself from the buzzing excitement surrounding the queen’s arrival. He had retreated to his tent, but the noise permeated through the thin canvas and made it nearly impossible for him to concentrate on his reading. Amcaro’s writings had not only provided answers to questions from his youth, but also alleviated certain doubts that had troubled him. Granted, he could have continued his studies by casting some sort of minor spell to muffle the outside noise, but doing so would have prevented anyone from entering his tent and he never knew when Kaz might need him.

Despite his progress, he still struggled to grasp certain basic concepts. He had worked off feel for far too long, never having trained in a more structured manner as his own master had urged him to do years ago. Krytien swallowed his pride and sought out help from Wiqua.

The two sat around a fire reading as the hours passed.

“But how do you know you’re ready to move on?” asked Krytien.

“You’ll just know. At least that’s how it is for me,” said Wiqua thumbing through the book. “Amcaro did an excellent job of putting some of the basics of sorcery into a step-by-step methodology. I can see why he was a good teacher.” He paused. “When I return to the Byzernian Islands, I’ll have to take a copy of this if possible. We’ve taught such things for centuries, but not quite as succinctly.”

“Wait. So your people have known all these concepts for centuries?”

“Oh yes. There are some differences here and there since most of what we use our powers for is healing. But when you lay it all out, there isn’t a whole lot of differences in the concepts between what I do and you do. We just usually have different goals and therefore different procedures to follow.” He smiled. “There are some very strong healers among my people. They make me seem like one of your yellow-robed mages.”

Krytien shook his head in disbelief.
Healers who dwarf Wiqua? One Above, I’m already in awe of his knowledge and he acts as though he’s nothing but a beginner. With that kind of power, why do his people allow themselves to be taken into slavery?

He almost said as much, but he knew Wiqua would dismiss the point. The old man had stressed many times before that his people used their powers to heal and nurture, never for harm.

“You know,” continued Wiqua, “if you wanted to learn the healing arts, I could teach them to you. You have a vast amount of potential with the power you can access.”

Krytien tensed. “What do you mean?”

“Look what we did for Kaz’s armor. I tired quickly as we performed the ritual spell, but I easily siphoned power from you to finish the task. In truth, we shouldn’t have been able to perform the spell as effectively as we did. The ancient shamans of the Quoron Empire used nearly half a dozen of their most powerful men to do the same thing only you and I performed.” He paused. “That was because of you, not me.”

Krytien swallowed hard, remembering a dark secret from the Hell Patrol’s past. He spoke in a hushed voice. “I’ve only tried to really push myself once before and I swore never to attempt that again. Plenty of good people died because I couldn’t control it.”

“Come on, Krytien. Asantia was over a decade ago. When are you going to get over it?” asked Hag. The question sent her into a coughing fit.

Krytien whipped his head around. He had been so caught up in his conversation with Wiqua he forgot she was there. His stomach knotted and his eyes widened. “Jonrell told you?”

“Jonrell ain’t told me anything. Nor did Yanasi or Glacar. I don’t know the specifics of what happened, but it didn’t take long to figure out it must have been bad when you came to the ship looking the way you did. Besides, the mess we left that city in wasn’t caused by an earthquake. I knew someone had to work something powerful up for all that to happen. And Hezen didn’t have a mage worth his weight. That leaves you.”

Krytien sat dumbfounded, feeling sick as he thought about that day. Asantia’s skyline, filled with dust from toppled buildings and smoke from raging fires. The stench of death and destruction had been so absolute that he could still recall the sick smell more than a decade later. He swallowed back the urge to retch.

A third of the city gone and on top of that Ronav died.

“Does all the old crew know?” croaked Krytien.

“I don’t know,” said Hag. “I trusted Jonrell’s decision not to talk about it and I wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up. But since it’s been brought up, you can’t let one day hang over your head.” She waved a finger. “This war ain’t over yet. We’re gonna need all the help we can get from you,” she added, before coughing again.

Krytien eyed the old woman and noticed just how much older she had been looking lately. “You don’t understand. You weren’t there.”

Hag shuffled toward him and bopped the mage on the head. “You’re right I wasn’t there. I was safe aboard ship because you stayed behind with Ronav and the others so the wounded and officers could get away. Without you doing whatever you did, I’d be dead.” She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know what all happened or how it happened, but I bet if Ronav was here, he’d tell you that you did good. Jonrell too.” She threw up her hands. “Jonrell commanded us for ten years after Asantia and the man counted on you just as much as Ronav did. Why would someone do that unless they had faith in you?” She shook her head. “Make peace with Asantia and move on. I don’t want to see you lose an arm like Raker because you can’t let go of the past.” She turned and kissed Wiqua on top the head. “I’m going to bed. You better get something out of Wiqua tonight since now I’m too tired to enjoy him. I ain’t gonna keep making these sacrifices, you know.”

Hag waddled away, coughing as she went into her tent and turned out the light.

“Quite the woman, isn’t she?” asked Wiqua. The Byzernian wore a soft grin.

Krytien nodded. “She does surprise you from time to time.”

* * *

Kroke whipped out a knife and began twirling it in his hand, distracting himself from the thoughts he had after leaving the command tent. After seeing the way Kaz and Elyse watched each other, Kroke couldn’t wait to get away from them. Though he had made his peace with the nature of his relationship with Elyse, it bothered him more than he cared to admit to see the looks she gave Kaz.

I guess I always knew they shared something. I just never wanted to acknowledge it.

He shook his head and turned his focus back to the camp as he slid between tents and campfires.

He stopped at the entrance to Yanasi’s tent and called out. “Yanasi? You in there?” he asked.

The tent flap peeled back and revealed a pair of bloodshot eyes. A tired smile formed on the red-headed woman’s face. “Kroke? Come in.” He stepped inside. “You want something to drink?”

“No, I’m good. I actually wanted to see if you were up for a game of knife versus bow, but it looks like I may have come at a bad time.”

She gave him a confused look and Kroke gestured to her eyes. “You’ve been crying, haven’t you?”

Yanasi chuckled and plopped into a chair. “Yeah. Seems like I’ve been doing a lot of that lately.”

“Jonrell?”

She bit her lip. “Things have changed so much lately, and little of it has been for the better. Cassus leaves, Glacar betrays Jonrell, Mal kills Jonrell, and now Raker.” She wiped her face and sighed heavily. “I just wish there was some normalcy around here again.”

“Yeah, I guess everyone felt like the whole world could go to hell as long as our core group from Asantia remained intact. Cassus leaving was one thing, but Glacar’s betrayal and Jonrell’s death definitely put everything in a different perspective.”

“There just isn’t much laughter anymore.” She paused. “I always knew I could die, but before, it didn’t matter. I just figured that Jonrell gave me years I never thought I would have after my father abandoned me. But now I’ve got Rygar and . . .” her voice faded.

“And what?”

“Well, there was this baby after the last battle.”

“Rygar told me about her.”

“It just has me thinking is all. I can’t die. There are things I still want out of life.”

“Then quit,” said Kroke, surprised at the ease of his own words.

“What? I can’t do that.”

“Why not? No one would hold it against you. I wouldn’t. And if anyone gave you crap they’d have to answer to me.”

The comment put a smile on Yanasi’s face. “Thanks. But I really can’t, not until I see this through. Jonrell did so much for me. The least I can do is be there for Kaz and Elyse as they try to bring peace to Jonrell’s homeland. When the fighting is done, then we’ll see.”

He sighed. “The fighting is never done. I’m speaking from experience. At some point, you’ll have to either walk away or resign yourself to the fact that you’ll never stop being who you are. A word of advice, don’t wait until you’re my age to decide. Chances are it may be too late.”

“I won’t,” she said softly.

Kroke shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come in here and bring you down. I honestly just wanted to catch up.”

Yanasi shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m really glad you’re back. A lot of the old crew is so busy these days I don’t get to talk to them as much as I would like. It’s not like I can have these sorts of conversations with the men I command, and I put too much on Rygar as it is.”

“Rygar’s a good man. He can handle it.” He paused. “Look, why don’t you get some rest and tomorrow, after we’ve both had a good night’s sleep, we’ll have a go at that match.”

She grinned. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Good. I still have to see someone anyway.”

Kroke left Yanasi’s tent in a much different mood than he expected. It felt good to be back among his friends, but he felt equally uncomfortable at how things had changed. In years past, he would show up after a mission and just fold himself back into the army with little effort.

But that was because Jonrell was the glue holding us all together, making sure things never unraveled. I guess I had hoped that someone would step in to fill that role after his death, but I should have known the man was irreplaceable.

* * *

The tent flap to the hospital burst open. Drake came charging out carrying a book under his arm and wearing a scowl. With his head down, he nearly ran into Kroke.

Kroke stepped aside and grabbed Drake by the arm. “Kid, you alright?”

“Kroke! I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”

“I noticed. What’s wrong?”

“You can probably guess since I’m sure that’s why you’re here,” the boy said pushing aside the mop of black hair from his eyes. “I’m done with him. I can’t keep wasting my time on someone who wants to die. I have too much else to worry about.”

“Is he that bad?”

Drake nodded. “You’ll see. Look, I hate to just barge off, but I really do have a lot to do and honestly, I just need some time alone right now. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks. It’s good to have you back,” Drake called out as he walked off.

Kroke stood there for a bit, puzzled. Like Yanasi, Drake had changed a lot since Jonrell’s death, but even more since the army went on the move and he had to stay behind with Elyse. The once bright-eyed boy who seemed to lift everyone’s spirits looked older and more solemn than someone his age should.

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