Steel and Sorrow (48 page)

Crusher shook his head. “That ain’t it. I hate that piece of crap. Grin, he . . . .”

“His name is Grin?”

"A name he earned,” said Crusher.

“Alright. How do you know I’ll have to fight him? You don’t have any contact with your country any longer.”

“I heard Rygar’s description of the colors worn by the Ghal army. Most of those come from the territory I grew up in. That means my brother will be there.”

“Another champion might be selected.”

“No one is better than Grin. He’s never lost. Ever. Look, I kind of fibbed about why I left my country. The reason is I was an embarrassment to my family. I really am small for my people and my brother, well he’s been a legend since we were just boys. He’s got me by almost three feet.”

Kaz’s eyes widened. “You’re brother is twelve feet tall?”

“And as solid as a mountain.”

“That’s not going to deter me.” Kaz picked up his gear. It was nearing time to head toward the bridge.

A meaty hand jerked him around. “He ain’t just big. He’s fast, and more agile than a man his size has any right to be. I’m older than him and he used to beat me up. I guarantee you he’s meaner than anything you’ve ever fought.”

“That’s only because I haven’t fought myself,” said Kaz, smirking.

“You idiot, I’ve seen you fight and you can’t beat Grin. It isn’t possible. Let’s find another way.”

Kaz broke away from Crusher’s hands and grabbed his helm and shield. He also snatched up a long spear. He rarely fought with the weapon, but considering his opponent’s reach, a spear would do him good. “Move.”

Crusher reluctantly stood aside. He wore a distressed look. The queen waited in Kaz’s path.

“Kaz, I hereby command you not to fight their champion in single combat. We will regroup and meet their forces in the field. I cannot afford for you to lose. A kingdom and my throne hang on the outcome of today. Now, quickly prepare your men for battle.”

The queen’s words would have cut him through the heart if he didn’t see the emotion she tried to hold back. The kingdom may have been a concern to her, but he knew that was only part of her reason.

“No,” said Kaz.

“No? I gave you a command. You swore your sword to me.”

“Yes. I swore that I would solidify your rule and finish what Jonrell started. If I do as you say and we win, our losses will be too great to oppose Conroy and Markus. If I lose as Crusher believes then I’ve at least prevented the deaths of thousands of men.”

“Except your own,” Elyse whispered.

“So be it,” said Kaz as he walked past her.

“Crusher thought you might say that. I had hoped you would listen,” said Elyse solemnly. “Guards, seize the commander!” she quickly shouted.

Kaz whirled around as his sword hissed from its scabbard.

Fighting sounded from outside. It ended in a matter of moments. The three stared at each other, confused, Crusher most of all.

Did he know what Elyse had planned?

Elyse called out. “Guards!”

The head of a grizzled engineer poked through the tent flap and spat. “Sorry, Your Majesty, but your guards have been temporarily relieved of their duties. Don’t worry, they’re alive. Krytien made sure of that.”

“What? How could you know?”

Raker shrugged. “The kid figured it out. Ask him. Don’t take it personal, Your Majesty. It’s just that the Hell Patrol looks out for each other and we only take our orders from our commander.” He turned to Kaz and gave him a nod of respect. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Kaz grinned. “I’m right behind you.”

Raker’s head disappeared.

“Please,” Elyse begged.

Kaz took a deep breath. “Trust me.” He left before Elyse could respond.

* * *

Rows of soldiers cheered him on as he walked through camp. Such enthusiasm gave him strength and helped him forget the somber mood he had left behind with Elyse and Crusher.

Kaz took in the moment with a deep breath.

It’s as if this is what I was made for.

He thought about the memory flashes of his training as a boy and realized he probably wasn’t far off.

Kaz left the fading shouts of the main camp behind and walked alone toward the bridge. Thick rolling clouds blocked out much of the sun. A heavy breeze blew back and forth across his path as if nature could not decide which way it wanted to travel. Orange dirt and pieces of dried grass lifted up into the air and rode the breeze. Closing in on a small hill that led to the bridge, the roar of the fast-moving water in the tumultuous river drowned out the crunching steps of his boots.

When the Ghals had accepted the challenge Kaz offered, their messenger seemed amused. To them, their champion could not be stopped.

According to the rules of
rihulask
, the main body of each army stayed far away from where the fight would take place. Only a few dozen from either side could witness the event. Kaz personally selected those he wanted to attend.

He topped the rise and saw a lone figure, like a giant gray statue, standing in the middle of the bridge. Kaz could not see what Grin held in his left hand, but the Ghal leaned on a giant axe that reminded Kaz of something an executioner might carry.

I need a bigger spear.

The onlookers he had selected stationed themselves near his side of the bridge and shouted out to him. Those Grin brought to witness the battle stood deathly quiet on the opposite side of the bridge.

Drake said that these events are sacred to them
.

The witnesses for Kaz did their best to offer a word of encouragement, luck, or advice. Members of the Hell Patrol’s old crew stationed themselves closest to the fight.

“I’m not a fighter so I can’t offer anything helpful,” said Krytien. He eyed Grin for a moment and smiled. “But then again, I would suggest not holding back any. I think he can take it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Kaz as they shook hands.

Kaz moved down to Raker and Drake. The boy smiled, but Kaz saw his nervousness as he kept looking toward the colossal warrior waiting for him.

Raker spat. “It’s been a long time since I witnessed something like this. Before Jonrell, we had a commander named Ronav who used to fight in single combat all the time. The stakes weren’t quite as high, but he never lost. Jonrell was from a different school of thought and never did any of that stuff.” He eyed Kaz. “But since I’ve lain off the drink, I can tell you’ve got a bit more of Ronav than Jonrell in you. And that ain’t a bad thing.” He paused. “Go make us proud, Commander.”

“Knowing how much Jonrell looked up to Ronav, I’ll take that as a compliment.” Kaz gestured toward the mace hanging at Raker’s waist. “You mind if I borrow that?”

“What for?” asked Drake, looking dumbfounded.

“I think it might come in handy,” said Kaz. “In certain situations, a sword isn’t always the best weapon to use.”

Raker smiled and slapped Drake on the arm. “You heard that?” He unlooped the mace and awkwardly handed it to Kaz with one hand. “I don’t get as much use out of it these days. Still, I expect it back when you’re done. Sentimental reasons and all.”

Kaz nodded.

Wiqua stood further down and Kaz stopped in front of him.

“Don’t die,” said the Byzernian.

“That’s it?”

Wiqua shrugged. “I can’t heal you if you’re dead.”

Kaz looked over to Hag, taken aback by Wiqua’s unusual bluntness.

“What?” the old woman barked.

Kaz frowned at how tired she looked leaning on a walking cane. Her breathing seemed labored.

“I thought . . .” started Kaz.

“Thought that I might say something to capture this moment?” She waved a hand and chuckled. “You know me better than that.” Her face grew stern and she tapped her cane on the chest of Kaz’s armor. “Now isn’t the time to get soft on me. Go and end this quick. I can’t take being on my feet all morning while you dance around out there. So, nothing pretty. Got it?”

Kaz smiled. “Got it.”

“Good. Now hurry up.”

Yanasi gave Kaz a hug and Rygar a salute and a handshake.

To Kaz’s surprise, Kroke waited last in line with his back away from the group. He flipped a dagger in his hand while facing Grin.

I wonder how upset he is for not being able to fight the Ghal himself.

He turned as Kaz approached. Kroke eyed the mace in Kaz’s left hand and the spear in his right before moving to the shield strapped to his back and the sword at his waist.

Kroke grunted. “You got enough weapons?”

“If there was ever a time not to be shorthanded, I figured this was it.”

Kroke shifted his gaze. “That spear ain’t gonna work.” He walked over to the side of the road and came back carrying a spear four feet longer than the one Kaz held. “Here. This one should serve you better.”

Kaz gave him a confused look. “Where’d you get it?”

Kroke grinned, but ignored the question. “Despite the extra length, it’s stronger than what you got now.”

“Thanks.”

Kroke then unsheathed a knife at his waist and held it in his hand for a moment. Kaz noticed right away that it was the blade he most often saw Kroke using—the eagle-winged hilt and overall craftsmanship unlike anything else Kaz had seen. “This is my best blade. Jonrell gave it to me over ten years ago in Thurum. I’ve never let anyone else even touch it since then, let alone use it.” He extended his hand. “I know Jonrell would approve of you having it today. Just in case.”

He and Kroke had never gotten along and the assassin had kept his distance from Kaz since his return to camp. Kroke’s gesture shocked him.

He set the mace and spear on the ground and took the blade from Kroke. He hadn’t thought about Jonrell during this ordeal, but after Raker’s comments and now holding his friend’s former blade, he felt the man’s presence. He grinned through the panther shaped helm.

“I’ll do it proud,” said Kaz as he strapped the dagger around his waist.

“You better,” said Kroke.

Murmurings caused Kaz to look over his shoulder. Elyse and Crusher came over the top of the hill with several of Elyse’s guards.

Kroke thrust the spear and mace into Kaz’s hands. “Forget about them for now and go. You don’t need any more distractions.”

They exchanged a quick look and Kaz stepped onto the bridge.

Gusts of wind blew across the span and Kaz’s footsteps thumped on the wide wooden beams beneath his feet. A few rays of sunlight peeked from the thick clouds only to disappear again. Fast moving water roared beneath his feet.

“Are you done preening with your soldiers?” asked Grin. “I can’t believe my brother would follow anyone not a Ghal, but especially someone as soft as you appear to be.” He made a noise that sounded like disgust. “Armor that fine should have been fitted for someone my size. What a waste.”

“Are we going to talk or are we going to fight?” asked Kaz.

“You called for the
rihulask
. That means we must abide by its rules unless you care to disgrace our customs more than you already have by thinking you could challenge one of our kind.”

“What must I do?”

“We remove our helms to see the man we are about to face.”

Kaz hesitated until Grin dropped his axe, and the morning star he carried in his other hand. They clattered against the wooden bridge. Kaz set the spear and Raker’s mace down. He took off the shield at his back as well before unfastening his helm. He removed the panther’s head he wore as Grin removed the spike-studded armor protecting his skull.

Grin’s dark and narrow eyes grabbed Kaz’s attention as he stood in his gray armor mixed with flecks of blue. The pair of colors brought forth images from Kaz’s past of warriors he knew he had once commanded. Unlike before, the memories lingered long enough for Kaz to see the warriors’ faces. One face stood out from all the others. For a brief moment, Kaz thought he looked at a reflection of himself.

No. It’s someone I’m related to. A brother?

The image vanished and Kaz’s head throbbed. He blinked rapidly, staring once again at the twelve-foot behemoth some forty feet away. The giant’s mouth widened to three times its normal size and the name Grin made sense.

“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost, little man.”

Kaz refocused. “No. Just thinking that Crusher got the looks in the family.”

Grin scowled. “I heard you were arrogant, Heshan.”

The word rocked Kaz’s mind. “What did you call me?”

“That’s what you are, aren’t you? I thought the stories of the lost continent of Hesh were fables, but apparently there is some validity.” He slipped his helm back on. “Prepare yourself.”

“The traditions of the
rihulask
are over?”

“They are done.”

“Wait. I have questions about Hesh.”

Grin ignored Kaz and picked up his weapons. “I’m not here to answer questions about your homeland.”

“I need answers,” said Kaz, caught up in his emotions. His head buzzed at the mention of his homeland and his heart raced.

Grin chuckled. “Don’t tell me the rumors that you don’t know where you’re from are true too?” He laughed louder. “How sad.”

Kaz swore loudly in his native tongue when he realized the Ghal would not cooperate. Kaz secured his helm and picked up the long spear, leaving the other weapons behind for now. He squeezed the shaft. “Before this is done, you will give me answers!”

Kaz charged.

* * *

Kroke watched Kaz and the Ghal remove their helms. From the distance and over the rushing water of the river, he couldn’t make out the conversation, but from their body language it seemed like the standard affair of sizing each other up. Kroke had already spent some time taking in the giant and he had to admit that he didn’t envy Kaz. That didn’t mean that a part of him didn’t wish he was out there—if only to knock the giant down and prove that size meant nothing.

Kaz better not lose my knife.

Kroke had surprised himself by giving it to Kaz, but it was the only thing he could think of to make peace with the man.

It worked for me and Jonrell all those years ago in Thurum. Why not do the same now?