Trev’nor understood their nervousness as he rather shared it at the moment, although for an entirely different reason. If he had lots of solid earth under him, or was securely strapped into a saddle, he could handle his phobia of heights. But resting in a dragon’s claw while flying hundreds of feet off the ground? Not so much. Panic started to clog his throat and he had to fight the urge to latch onto Garth’s nearest claw for dear life.
“Do not worry, fledgling,” Garth rumbled at him. “Will not drop you.”
That didn’t really do anything to reassure his taut nerves.
“If I fall,” Garth continued, amused—because of course dragons didn’t understand fearing heights— “I will hit ground first.”
“Garth, no offense, but that’s not reassuring. You’re not very squishy. Landing on a bunch of scales will not be softer than bedrock.”
The dragon gave a gravelly bark of laughter.
This good-natured bickering stopped as Garth back-flapped hard and brought them into the center of the city. Trev’nor caught a glimpse of banners hanging off the side of the building and didn’t think it was any coincidence that Garth chose to land on the warlord’s castle.
Trev’nor gratefully dropped out of his dragon’s clutches and put his boots back on solid rock. As he did so, he looked around and saw that all of the mages had been dropped off on the balcony, although only some of the dragons chose to linger. While the ledge was thick and wide, it could only support two dragons at a time, and the others chose to branch out and perch on the adjoining walls instead. Other dragons swooped in long enough to deploy troops and prisoners in the middle of the courtyard before taking off again, heading off in all different directions. Trev’nor assumed Nolan was directing who went where. They weren’t asking for orders, and there wasn’t any sign of confusion, so this must have been worked out beforehand.
A man sure did miss a lot while he sleeping.
The unfortunate guards on the wall or in the courtyard below scrambled to form up and then stopped dead as they were faced with their own countrymen and how to fight several dragons at the same time. They never had a chance to figure out the answer before Azin stepped forward and collected their weapons and shields with a sweep of her arm, throwing them all into the air. Trev’nor expected her to gather them all into a pile like last time, but instead she let them hover, blades down, directly above the men’s heads.
Dragons were bad enough. But to be threatened by your own sword? It was a soldier’s worst nightmare.
“Commander Danyal, if you would,” Becca requested. Trev’nor couldn’t see her, Garth was between them and blocking his view, but she didn’t sound at all nervous. Conquering cities was becoming familiar to her. Trev’nor wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or not.
Commander Danyal must have been riding with her on Cat, as he stepped immediately forward and cleared his throat. In a booming voice, he announced, “WE ARE THE CONQUERERS OF TREXLER. WE HAVE THE WARLORD IN CUSTODY. IN ONE HOUR, WE WILL SIT IN JUDGMENT FOR HIS CRIMES. ALL WHO WISH TO WITNESS ARE WELCOMED.”
That said, he stepped back.
Trev’nor blinked. Was that it? Stepping around Garth’s, he asked, “Shouldn’t we say something more?”
“Oh, Trev, you’re awake.” Becca looked more than a little windblown, hair in a messy braid over one shoulder, growing circles under her eyes. Still, she seemed perky. “Have a nice nap?”
“I did, yes.” And boy had he needed the sleep. “Is that all we’re going to say?”
“What more do you suggest?” the commander asked him. “Announcing your names, that you are conquering Trexler, what your demands are?”
Trev’nor thought all of that was a given. “Well, yes?”
“But if we do that, we sound like every other conquering warlord,” Becca explained. “Which we want to avoid doing. We want to give a different first impression.”
“That this is more about the removal of a bad ruler than a conqueror muscling their way in?” Trev’nor stated, feeling his way through the concept aloud. “Smart. Hopefully that works.”
“Nothing to lose by trying.”
Commander Danyal turned sharply left. “I need to get down to the main level and start organizing things.”
“I’ll take you down,” Trev’nor offered. He swirled some of the rock forming up the wall into motion, building a small platform with it.
Danyal did not appreciate this offer at all and he eyed the rock like it was poisonous and would bite him. If he could have refused, he would have, but doing so would send the wrong signal to everyone watching. Trev’nor recognized the stubbornness for what it was and bit down a smile as he escorted the man onto his moving stones. “I won’t let you fall,” he assured the man softly. The weirdness of repeating what his dragon had just said was not lost on him, and he smiled at the irony.
As they descended, Trev’nor took advantage of the height to get a bird’s eye view of the situation. It got confusing quickly as everyone was in the same uniforms, but what it looked like was their troops were taking advantage of the confusion and general dragon-induced panic to subdue Trexler’s troops. Anyone that tried to put up resistance was quickly taken down, and it was so isolated that no opposition could get any momentum.
Surprise attacks, when executed right, were a beautiful thing to behold.
The commander stood at military parade stance the entire trip down. For his sake, Trev’nor made the landing as smooth as silk and pretended not to notice Danyal sweating. Before he could step away, Danyal caught his arm. “Raja. I had a thought on the flight here.”
Trev’nor was all ears. This man understood Trexler far better than he did, after all. “What is it?”
“You said that not all of the magicians in Tiergan were actually magical. What are the odds of it being the same here in Trexler?”
“Very good. The odds don’t seem to change much no matter what land you’re in.”
“Can you take some of my soldiers and go free the slaves here? Then bring me all of the ones that are not magical. I wish to prove this point in the trial and it will be easier if I have living proof in front of me.”
The original plan was for the mages to be silently subduing threats so that the trial and execution of the warlord wouldn’t be interrupted. But Trev’nor didn’t think it would really take all of them to manage this. Azin and Becca alone could keep this castle from being re-taken. That didn’t even include the dragons. “I can do that, yes. Who do you suggest I take with me?”
“Captain Hadi and his team.”
“I’ll do that.” Trev’nor silently applauded this conversation. It was the first time that Danyal had taken the initiative with them, which was exactly what needed to happen; otherwise they wouldn’t be able to leave Trexler and continue on. “Bring them back here?”
“This is where we will hold the trials, yes. You have two hours.”
Trev’nor blinked. “Two hours? You think the trial for the warlord will take that long?”
A hard expression swept over Danyal’s face. “I’m yanking certain officials out of their hidey-holes and prosecuting them before we get to the warlord. I know exactly what to charge them with.”
Some house-cleaning first, eh? Trev’nor had no problem with that, especially since it looked like Danyal knew exactly what to do. Having a local on their side was certainly speeding matters along. “You have our full support on that. Do you know where Captain Hadi landed?”
Danyal pointed across the courtyard. “There.”
Trev’nor’s eyes took a second to pick him out of the crowd, as he was clustered in with several dozen other uniformed men. “Ah, I see him. Then, I’ll be back in two hours.” Or less. “Tell Nolan and Becca what I’m doing, please.”
“I will inform them, Raja.”
Giving the man a casual salute, he walked off. He couldn’t do that sharp salute like the other army men could, but maybe he should learn it. It had bonded them to Becca because she could return salutes
and speak in military terminology. Trev’nor had heard whispers last night before collapsing that the men thought of her as ‘their’ raya. Growing up as the Super Soldier’s sister had its benefits.
“Captain Hadi,” he hailed, waving the man over.
“Raja!” Hadi immediately stopped his conversation with one of his subordinates and stood to attention. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“Your commander had a thought, and a good one. I need your help to execute it.” There, did that sound military enough? “He wants us to track down the magical slaves here and bring the ones born without magical talents back here.”
Hadi was quick on the uptake. “For trial exhibitions?”
“Exactly so, Captain. Can I have your help with this?”
“Certainly, sir, but I only know where one of the holding pens is for slaves here in Trexler.”
The way he said that made Trev’nor’s blood run cold. “How many are there?”
Hadi exchanged an uncertain glance with the lieutenant standing next to him. “A dozen?”
“Not sure if that’s correct, sir,” the lieutenant denied. “I think there’s a few more than that.”
Over a dozen? Trev’nor rubbed a hand over his face and fought down the urge to throw up. Or cry. Or rage. “Change of plans. Captain Hadi, what is Captain Nima doing?”
“Guarding the front gate and helping the commander set up a judicial platform, sir.”
That wasn’t something he could divert the man from. “Alright, let me rephrase. Do we have a team that we can grab? I want Nolan and another team to go out and find the other slave pens and start freeing magicians.”
Hadi stared at him for a moment. “Raja. Permission to speak freely?”
Trev’nor wasn’t sure where the man was going with this, but waved him on. “Granted.”
“Raja, we’re all a little confused on why you and Raya Becca and Raja Nolan react so strongly about the magicians. These are strangers to you, correct?”
Did they not know…? No, come to think of it, only the people of Rurick had known of the connection. Trev’nor took a breath and broke it down to the simplest explanation he could. “All of the magical slaves now? Their ancestors came here from Chahir. We share the same ancestors.”
“They’re family members?” the lieutenant blurted out incredulously, jaw dropping.
“Cousins, yes.” Many, many times removed. But that didn’t matter in Khobunter. In this land, family was family and if you shared even just one drop of blood then that’s all that mattered.
Complete understanding washed over every person within earshot. Trev’nor didn’t have to say a word more. These people, at least, knew how to stick with family no matter what the odds were against them.
“Raja, I can spare two teams,” Captain Hadi stated firmly. “And sir, in the future, explain things like this before we go into combat.”
“Sorry,” Trev’nor apologized with a shrug of the hands. “I thought you knew. But in retrospect, it was the people of Rurick that helped us figure all of this out.”
“I’ll spread the word,” the lieutenant promised and turned about immediately to do just that.
“Get Musa and Seyyed!” Hadi called to his back. “Sir, once I’ve given them their marching orders, we’ll go for the nearest slave pen. I know exactly where it is from here. We should be on high alert going through the streets. We have not secured the area outside of the castle.”
“Trust me, Captain, that’s not going to be much of a problem.”
Actually, walking through the streets wasn’t as dangerous as Trev’nor thought it would be. Because everyone wore the same uniform, no one looked at Hadi’s team and thought ‘enemy soldiers.’ Also because he walked with them, even though he was obviously foreign, no one questioned Trev’nor either. Hadi and his men were still on edge, of course, but nothing happened to them and no one questioned their right to be there.
Hadi had been stationed in Trexler during his first years in the military and knew this section of the city like the back of his hand. He went straight for the slave pens that were three streets over. Once they arrived at the main door, they finally met opposition from the guards on duty. Hadi’s team worked like a well-oiled machine and the guards were under arrest and subdued before Trev’nor could open his mouth and formulate a full command.
“Masoon, Jamshid, you guard the doors. The rest, with me.”
“Sir!” six men barked at once.
Military precision. Trev’nor loved it. Grinning, he stepped through the door, his own weapon at the ready just in case a guard was back in the pen. He stepped from the cool interior of the guardhouse into the stuffy warehouse beyond it. The light was dim at best, the air foul. The slaves inside were still and listless, like the ones he had seen before. But as he came into the room, some took notice and their heads came up. When he kept standing there, with no guards trying to restrain him, others cautiously stood and prodded at their neighbors.
Trev’nor panned his head, getting a rough headcount. Sixty? Or roughly that, anyway. He’d have to get a better count of them before leaving here, and full names, otherwise Llona would have his head. She was their record keeper for the magicians.
Hadi leaned in a little and whispered, “Why are they staring at you like that, sir?”
“Because I’m the most powerful magician they’ve likely ever seen,” Trev’nor responded, not even trying to lower his voice. “And I’m walking around freely.” Alright, he had an idea of how many magicians and non-magicians were in this room. Time to move. Stepping forward a little more, he said loudly, “My name is Rhebentrev’noren. I am an Earth Mage. I and three other mages have taken Warlord Trexler into custody. We now rule Trexler. You are free citizens of Khobunter as of now.”
“Your Khobuntish is improving, sir.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Trev’nor was a bit lost on what to do next, so he started with the people directly next to him. “This is Captain Hadi. He will help you out of these chains and take you to a better place until we can get everyone sorted. What are your names?”
The slaves stared back at him as if sure he was some hallucination.
Trev’nor didn’t let it faze him. He reached out with his hands and wrenched the bars casually aside, making the metal screech in agony. With the bars out of the way, he stepped through and focused on a little girl huddled in her mother’s lap. If she were older than ten, he’d eat his boots. There was an amulet on her, just one, as her magic was still in the process of truly awakening. Trev’nor reached out and carefully brought the amulet over her head before dropping it and crushing it under his boot.
“Hello, sweets.” He grinned at her. “What’s your name?”
“Dana,” she whispered. Her dark eyes were wide in a pale, heart-shaped face. “You glow.”
“I sure do,” he agreed affably. “Is this pretty lady your mother?”
Dana nodded, eyes still wide.
“Dana’s mother, let’s get that amulet off of you, too.” As he took them off, he noted that both of them were witches. The mother sat perfectly still as it was lifted, her only reaction a single tear streaming down a cheek. Trev’nor wiped that away and winked at her before standing and shuffling to the man in the cell with them. “Captain,” he instructed over his shoulder, “you can take these off as well. I wasn’t sure until I touched them, but the limits are almost up on them, the magic weak enough that a non-magical person can lift them free.”
“Ah, yes, Raja, we’ll do that. Once they’re off?”
“Destroy them.”
The last man in the cell reached out and grabbed Trev’nor’s wrist in an ironclad clutch. He was older, old enough to be Trev’nor’s grandfather, worn thin by years of hard work and not enough food. “Rheben. Did you say Rheben?”
“I did,” he answered steadily. What was the respectful word for an elderly man in this country again? Gan, gan-something… “Ganyesh, you know my family?”
Being addressed respectful
ly brought tears to the old man’s eyes. “I do. I do. A Rheben is here.”
Trev’nor’s breath halted in his chest. “There is a Rheben here?”
The old man stood, a little shakily, and called out, “Parisa!”
A little girl, no more than eight or nine, stood and tentatively waved. “I’m here,” she called back in a tremulous voice.
“Go to her,” the old man encouraged, pushing Trev’nor that direction. “She has no other family. Take her from here.”
“I’m taking you all from here,” Trev’nor stated firmly. He made sure that point got across before he moved. He couldn’t contain his excitement as this was the first time he had seen evidence that the Rheben bloodline had survived the fall of the city.
Hadi was hot on his heels, apparently unable to contain his curiosity either.
The little girl had not budged. She stood with her hand holding the chain to her wrist, a move that Trev’nor knew well, because if the chain was left dangling, it would chaff the wrist severely.
Trev’nor knelt slowly in front of her, taking in every detail. She had the dark skin of this people, but the rest of her looked more Chahiran. Her hair was more of a brown than black and her eyes…she had Garth’s eyes. Clear green eyes looking straight back at him. To look so much like the Rhebens like this, she must be a direct descendant.
“Rhebentrev’noren,” he re-introduced himself, using his best smile to cover up his spinning thoughts. “Trev’nor. What’s your name?”
“Parisa Rheben.”
So the name had stuck, but not the proper Chahiran methodology? That made things a little confusing.
Her eyes wide, she stood up on tiptoes. “I look like you,” she breathed.
“Yes,” Trev’nor answered, voice shaking. “Yes, you’re obviously a Rheben. I can see your magic, too. You’ll be a powerful Earth Mage once you grow up.” She’d rival Garth, easily, he could see that in a glance.
“Raja?” Captain Hadi interrupted with an uncertain glance between them. “I was instructed by Raya Becca to make a list of everyone, but should I list this girl under her Chahiran name?”
Warlords Rising Page 24