The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  “Go to her now, Brother. You need Brahanu and your son. Try to focus on the love that surrounds you, and leave the other far behind,” Danimore said, embracing him again before walking back toward the fire. After several sobering breaths, Pentanimir returned to Brahanu’s side.

  “Gali sits alone, Julaybeim,” Pentanimir said, sitting on the ground. “She’d like your company?”

  Julaybeim peered at him curiously and then back to his sister. When she nodded, he laid Eytan in his basket and stood. “I’ll leave you to your words then.”

  After he left, Pentanimir slid closer to Brahanu, hesitantly draping an arm around her. When he leaned to caress his son, her unexpected kiss caused him to jerk away.

  “Pentanimir, what’s wrong?”

  “For—forgive me, the—the battle is still fresh in my mind, and I’m thinking about those yet defending the village.”

  She tucked Tardison in his basket, turning back to face Pentanimir. “Are you going to tell me about it?”

  “In time. I’d rather speak about you and our son. There isn’t any way to conceal his parentage, Brahanu. What are we going to do?”

  “I’ve been discussing the same with Julaybeim. When I return to Cazaal, I’m going to leave Tardison with you.”

  “You mean to return?”

  “I must, Pentanimir. My life has always been in Cazaal. Itai will want to see Eytan as soon as possible, as will my family. I know that it can’t be soon, but once the lands are safe, I’ll return to my husband.”

  His heart ached, not only due to her words, but more so for the truths she had yet to learn. “What about Tardison? He’s also your son.”

  “Yes, and yours. It won’t be easy to leave him, but he’ll be with his father and family. I know that Zeta and Gali will take the greatest care of him. Itai allowed me to come to the wood for safety, not to stay. Once this war is at an end, I must return to him.”

  “Am I to be without you always? I love you, Brahanu, and our son. Has your love for me withered?”

  “My love for you is endless, but it can’t supersede that of my husband. Without his love, the entire village would’ve known about my shame. I love him, Pentanimir, and more than before. This doesn’t erase my love for you, but it must come first.”

  When he attempted to respond, she shook her head, caressing his face. “The love and passion that I feel for you will forever remain. When I come to see Tardison, I’m coming to see you, too. Firstly, I must return to Cazaal and my husband.”

  The more she spoke, the more he understood the importance of revealing the truth. He met her eyes, desperately attempting to keep the anguish from his. When he leaned down, he kissed her passionately, allowing her love to fill the emptiness pervading his soul. For this moment, one moment, he needed to submerse himself in that love. If only this moment could last…but it couldn’t, and despondency and heartache would replace that which he now felt.

  As he moved away, his face betrayed his thoughts.

  “Pentanimir, what’s wrong?”

  “Know that I love you, Brahanu, I am in love with you. No matter what I next say, know that I love you more than any man could love a woman.”

  Without permitting her time to respond, he stood, walking away.

  “We’re nearly ready, Brother,” Danimore said as he approached. “Are you certain that you can manage the second carriage?”

  “Yes, but first, I need to tell them about Cazaal.”

  “What? Now?”

  “They have the right to know, Dani. Waiting until we’re deeper in the wood won’t lessen their pain. Where’s Ameya?”

  “She’s still asleep,” Zeta said, coming to their side.

  “Good, she doesn’t need to hear this.”

  Pentanimir gathered everyone together, returning to Brahanu. “You’ve questioned me regarding the battle, and there’s much to tell. When my contingent arrived, the battle had already begun. They’d taken the temple and—and—the Nohek, those that remained, were killed.”

  “Gods,” Gali said. “All of them?”

  “There were but a few who remained in the temple. I fought my way through the village, searching for Itai and Hacom. Once I reached them, they were surrounded by men of the guard. I fought my way through, killing all in my path. Guards of Nazil that I trained with for years lay dead at my feet, but it wasn’t enough.”

  Brahanu wiped away her tears, straining to sit up. “What’s that to mean, Pentanimir, what happened?”

  “I—I was too late. There was a fusillade of arrows loosed in their direction. Hacom barely escaped being hit.”

  “Father?” Julaybeim said.

  Pentanimir nodded, never raising his eyes. “We…we fought together, the three of us. But the…the arrow pierced Itai’s thigh, and I couldn’t, he couldn’t—”

  “No, Pentanimir,” Brahanu pleaded. “He’s all right. My husband is all right. Tell me that he is, please, tell me.”

  He shook his head. “The arrows used in battle are dipped in poison: the serpent’s venom . It paralyzes your enemy, allowing time for you to strike.”

  “What honor is there in using such poison!” Julaybeim spat.

  “There’s no honor, young lord, not in war. There’s only advantage.”

  “What happened to my husband,” Brahanu demanded. “Where’s Itai?”

  “He fought bravely, but the poison incapacitated him. Even with my sword and Hacom’s, we couldn’t protect him.”

  “No, no!” Brahanu screamed. “It can’t be! Please, not Itai, not my husband, please. No, Pentanimir, tell me that you saved my husband as you did my sister!”

  Pentanimir wanted to comfort her, to hold her against him and relieve the pain that she felt. But his arms couldn’t soothe such an ache when it was by his people’s hands that it happened. He could only watch as Julaybeim enfolded her into his arms as she mourned for her husband.

  He turned, struggling against the debilitating emotions welling inside of him. As Pentanimir lumbered toward the carriage, he fought to compose himself. It wasn’t merely grief that plagued him, but anger as well.

  “Brother,” Danimore said, rushing up from behind. “It isn’t your fault; you know that. You didn’t kill any of them. You tried to protect them.”

  “Did you see her anguish, Dani, the scorn? It—it exuded from her like a tangible thing. Her heart will never heal, and it was Nazilians who caused such pain. I couldn’t save them, and she’ll forever blame me. She only knows about Itai. When she learns of her parents, what blame will be thrust at my feet?”

  “Just because the blame is placed there, doesn’t mean you have to take it from the ground and bear its weight. Leave it where it rests and walk away. It isn’t yours to carry.”

  Pentanimir shook his head, wiping the tears lining his eyes. “You must think me weak. It’s just too much, Dani. I can’t bear the weight of everything thrust upon my shoulders.”

  “No. I’ve never thought that about you, but I did of myself not long ago. Your words freed me from such misconceptions. You are in love with Brahanu, and her pain causes the same for you. Instead of celebrating the birth of your son, you must mourn the death of her family.” Danimore moved closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Weak? No, Brother. If you had no emotion regarding this war and the deaths wrought from it, you’d be guilty of being the monsters that we’re accused of. This isn’t either of us, and you can’t allow Draizeyn’s cruelties to plague your heart and mind.”

  As he finished, Julaybeim rushed up from behind them, seizing Pentanimir’s shoulder, and spinning him around. Danimore looked on in disbelief as Gali ran to their side.

  “Tell me true, First Chosen, did Itai die by your hand?”

  “You think me capable of such an act, Julaybeim?”

  “I know that you’ve been lusting after my sister. You couldn’t have her while her husband lived. Now that he’s fallen, you could ravage her again just as you did when you forced your seed in her womb.”

  “
Julaybeim, please, don’t do this,” Gali said, stepping between them. “Pentanimir would never do anything like that. Don’t allow your grief to betray you.”

  “He’ll answer my question or I’ll force it out of him,” he said, pointing. “Look at my sister. Her husband is dead. If the ghost standing in front of me is responsible, I’d have it known. There’s one man of Cazaal still within his reach.”

  Pentanimir’s gaze fell on Brahanu, weeping in Zeta’s arms. “This is what you think of me?” Pentanimir asked, turning full to face him. “You believe I’d wound Brahanu so terribly to satisfy my desire? You think I could murder her husband?”

  “I didn’t assign blame to you, I asked if Itai died by your hand, and you’ll answer my question.”

  Danimore stepped forward, his eyes narrowing pejoratively. “You dare to insult my brother,” he snapped. “He risked everything to save your family and your village, and this is how you come to him? If not for Pentanimir, Ameya would be a captive in Nazil and Brahanu would’ve never returned to Cazaal at all. It’s by his hand that they yet draw breath! He’s why we all live.”

  Pentanimir’s face was an emotionless mask as he raised a hand to Danimore, advancing on Julaybeim. “The young lord posed a question, Brother, and I’ll answer it.” His icy tone and stare caused Julaybeim to take a step back.

  “If it’s truth that you want, then you’ll have it. I didn’t kill Itai, I protected him. Both your father and I killed my Nazilian brothers to aid Brahanu’s husband. Itai couldn’t stand or see, and we stood at his side, killing anyone who came near. It wasn’t enough.

  “More guards approached from the wood, and I nearly succumbed defending him. As I slew the last, a guard put a sword through Itai’s throat. I killed that guard, too. When Ameya screamed, I saw the men taking her. She would’ve been raped repeatedly and taken as a slave.

  “As Itai lay dying, I promised that I’d protect his son and his wife, and I’ll hold true to that promise, even if I need to go through you to do so,” Pentanimir said, taking another step forward. “In defense of your home, I beheaded my uncle as he bore down upon your father. My father’s brother lay dead at my feet, yet you stand here very much alive. That, too, could change if you force a conflict where none should be. I’ll suffer your invectives no longer.

  “I couldn’t save Itai, though I wish it otherwise. I could save your sister, and that’s why she sleeps safely in my carriage. Now, take your truth, and leave my sight,” Pentanimir said, turning away.

  “What about my parents?”

  Pentanimir walked away, not looking back. “Only the gods know.”

  Aftermath

  Daracus moaned, clenching his eyes shut as the waves of his gratification escalated. His time away from Nazil only increased his yearning and the intensity of his completion. His body jerked, enjoying the lingering sensation and the warmth of his love. As the pleasure eased, he leaned down, kissing every inch of exposed skin while easing himself away. He merely stared for a moment, overcome by surging emotion and desiring more.

  “I was in great need of that, and you, my love,” Daracus said, leaning down for another kiss. “Now, get dressed, and gather my clothes. My sister and the Council are awaiting me, and I fear my need for you has kept me too long.”

  “Yes, milord,” Jahno said. After quickly dressing, Jahno dipped the cloth in the basin, gliding it over Daracus’ body. Jahno could feel him flittering through his hair as the cloth moved down his abdomen, and over his thighs. When Daracus clutched his wrist, Jahno swallowed hard, looking up to see a familiar expression and dreading what it meant.

  “Well, we have a little time,” Daracus said, resting his hands on Jahno’s shoulders, and lowering him to his knees. In but moments, he called out again, entangling his fingers in Jahno’s long hair, drawing him in closer. “Gods, how I’ve missed you,” he breathed.

  Suppressing his urge to retch, Jahno merely nodded, dipping the cloth in the basin. After cleaning his master, and helping him dress, Jahno knelt again, pulling on Daracus’ boots.

  “The next time that I leave Nazil, I’m taking you with me. Would you like that, Jahno?”

  He glanced up, feigning a smile. “Yes, sir. If your father allows, I’d be pleased to serve you,” he lied.

  “To all seven hells with what father will or will not allow. I’m a man grown and the Nakshij of Nazil. I’ll have who I love at my side, and care little for what he thinks. Father wants pledges and heirs, but I need your cock and arse.”

  Jahno flinched, noticing the rise beneath Daracus’ trousers. Not again. Please. Not again. “As you say, milord. Do you want me to bind your hair before you take your meal?”

  “Yes,” Daracus relented. “I can’t keep my sister in wait. However, at the meal’s end, you’ll return with me. I hate being rushed, and I miss feeling the thickness of your cock.”

  Inclining his head, Jahno begun brushing Daracus hair. The scent of his assault still lingered in the air, and the taste soured his stomach. He’d been in service to the citadel since Daracus abducted him from Noraa. Unlike some, Jahno’s father could afford the ransom, but it was never sought. Daracus had desired him since first they met in Jahno’s father’s curio shop. If he’d known then of his true desires, Jahno would’ve left his family for another village, any village to be free from such torture. Although most of the physical pain of his abuse subsided, the mental anguish was forever mounting. That could change in an instant, and he shuddered then, recalling his injuries from such encounters.

  “Would you like a cloak as well?” Jahno asked, forcing the painful thoughts from his mind.

  “What I want is you, but I’m needed elsewhere,” Daracus said, standing and placing a pellet beneath his tongue. “When you attend your duties, remove the olives from the table. Father isn’t here, and I can’t stand the smell of them.”

  After he’d gone, Jahno ran to his chamber pot and retched. He wiped the taste of Daracus from his mouth, splashing some cool water on his face. How much more of him must I endure?

  The councilmembers stood and bowed as Daracus entered the hall. After taking his father’s seat, Jahno came into the room, removing the olives and replacing them with dates.

  “Where’s my sister?”

  “We’ve sent Micah to fetch her, my lord,” Reaglen said. “She should be joining us shortly.”

  “My lord,” Bisdan said. “We’ve received a bird from Leahcim.”

  “Tell me of it then. Did birds arrive from Kaleo or Cazaal?” Daracus asked.

  “Kaleo has been defeated, and Cazaal is much the same. Erandi and Gudrun are en route now. There still isn’t any word from Pentanimir.” He paused, grief covering his visage. “We learned some distressing news, however, Sir Pentanimir’s uncle died with honor in Cazaal.”

  “Oxilon has fallen?”

  “He has, my lord, and all of Nazil will mourn such a loss.”

  “My father as well,” Daracus said. “Sir Benoist served our house and Nazil with great honor. What about the human whore? Is she amongst the captives?”

  Reaglen shook his head. “There’ve been no definitive reports. From the news thus far, she wasn’t in Cazaal.”

  “What? Her capture should’ve been guaranteed. Didn’t they report that she was heavy with child?”

  “Indeed,” Reaglen said. “She could’ve taken leave before the attack. It wouldn’t be the first time that spies have warned of our maneuvers. There’re yet places in Faélondul that our hands don’t reach.”

  “You speak true,” Beilzen said, signaling for more wine. “That’s why the Zaxson is wise to expand our reach. There shouldn’t be any place in Faélondul that Nazil can’t touch.”

  Daracus stared at Beilzen and then glanced around the room. “Agreed, but I don’t recall your appointment to this council.”

  “No, my lord. I’m here merely at your sister’s behest. She extended the invitation before we knew of your arrival. Our lady didn’t wish to sup alone.”

  �
�I see. Well, it’s appreciated that you’d comfort my sister at such a time as this. Then again, you’ve always acquiesced to Denotra’s commands with great alacrity, haven’t you?”

  Before he could respond, the guards opened the doors, escorting Denotra in. As she stepped toward the table, Beilzen rushed to her side, pulling out a chair.

  “You’re lovelier now than when last I saw you, my lady,” Beilzen said.

  “Ah, Sister, we were just speaking of you.”

  “Forgive my tardiness,” she said. “My stomach has been a bit disagreeable.”

  “Are you all right?” Daracus asked.

  “It’s merely the excitement of your return and my concern for Father and Pentanimir. It’ll pass.”

  “Yes, we spoke about that as well,” Daracus said. “A bird arrived not long ago with word of Kaleo and Cazaal.”

  “Did it mention Pentanimir?”

  He shook his head, reaching for her hand. “Not yet. It told of our victory and unfortunately, his uncle’s honorable death.”

  “Sir Oxilon? Gods, Pentanimir will be grief-stricken. He and his uncle were very close.”

  Beilzen scoffed. When he noticed the council regard him, he cleared his throat, taking a drink of wine. “Pardons. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Denotra’s eyes rolled, shifting away from him. “If not Pentanimir, who sent the message?”

  “My lady,” Reaglen started. “Erandi sent word from Leahcim before he and Gudrun left for Nazil.”

  “Then, who sent word of Cazaal? If Oxilon has fallen and no one has heard from Pentanimir, who made the report?”

  “Sir Garin,” Reaglen said, handing her the scroll.

  When she reached out for it, she lurched sideward, expelling a heavy cough. Her face scrunched, as she clutched her stomach, turning away from the table.

  “Are you certain that you’re well?” Daracus asked.

  “Yes, Brother. I—I’m fine.”

  “Lord Daracus,” Beilzen said. “With the battle nearly at an end, will you start preparations for Lady Denotra’s pledge? Well, upon your honorable father’s and Pentanimir’s return, of course.”

  “That’s Denotra’s wish. Why do you ask of it?”