A Crumble of Walls (The Kin of Kings Book 4)

by B. T. Narro

  Cleve caught sight of Jackrie leading her group of mages along the edge of their rectangular formation. He’d spent much time with her during their attempt to reach Tenred castle, yet he’d never seen the expression now on her face. She looked savage and surly, as if she would kill any enemy who tried to reach her group and would lash out at any ally who attempted to hold her back.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  The capital was surrounded by a tall yet thin wooden wall. There were but a few guards patrolling the southern side. Each had bows, and although they might not have been skilled enough to shoot a moving target, Basen didn’t want to test them by trying to break through one of the doors. Alternatively, if any of the guards fled instead of shooting, they could alert everyone in the castle, and all hope of surprising Tauwin would be lost.

  Instead, when the wall was clear, Neeko swooped up over it and disappeared. A moment later, the door swung open.

  Basen and Abith ran through the door, and Basen closed it behind them. They waited for the footsteps of the patrolling guard to pass by overhead, then ran into the cover of the crude shanties on the outskirts of the city. Just as in Oakshen, they wouldn’t blend in here. Fortunately, most of these shacks seemed to be empty, their inhabitants probably hard at work somewhere in the city.

  Basen jogged with Abith and Neeko toward the center of town, staying on the streets that had the fewest people. Neeko and Abith both had good endurance, neither showing signs of fatigue after their four-mile journey from Oakshen. However, Basen doubted they could match his stamina, especially now that he’d discovered how to use his grasp over bastial energy to increase his strength and endurance. He felt as if he could jog for days.

  A feeling like a swarm of flies trying to escape his stomach hit him as they neared the center of town. Shops and homes were bigger here, painted and decorated to give the city a more opulent feeling than Oakshen, but the people looked none the richer. Most were thin and wore clothes too big for them. Not one of them smiled. Some even appeared afraid as they noticed the three strangers’ swords, as if Basen and his companions had come to punish them for something.

  Basen could see the castle was not far ahead. The white Takary flag of sky blue wings was annoyingly gorgeous as it shimmered in the light breeze. For the first time that day, Basen noticed the wonderful weather. The sky was as clear as a pristine lake, the pleasant warmth of the sun perfectly contrasting with the cool wind. This was not a day for battle. This was a day to celebrate life. Tauwin would pay for putting everyone in this dire situation on such a beautiful day.

  But Basen had to face the reality that all might not go as planned. And if we don’t kill him, he’ll be more cautious in the future. It will be more difficult to reach him.

  He had an idea. “Wait,” he told Abith and Neeko.

  “We’re almost there,” Abith complained.

  “It’ll only take a moment, and it’ll be worth it.”

  “Explain,” Abith demanded.

  “It’s faster if we just do it.” Basen hurried toward the nearest person on the street and showed him a friendly smile.

  “Excuse me. Where is the nearest training center?” Basen asked.

  “Oh, so that’s what the three of you are doing. Talk of battle is on everyone’s lips. I thought—”

  “Just tell us,” Abith interrupted. “We’re in a hurry.”

  “That way.” The man pointed, regaining his worried frown. “Just follow the street.”

  They hurried to the west.

  Neeko asked, “What are we doing?”

  “In case this doesn’t work,” Basen said.

  It didn’t take long for the training center to come into view.

  Abith was smirking again. “This is actually a good idea.”

  “I still don’t understand,” Neeko said. “Why go to a training center?”

  Basen had already explained to Neeko the way portals worked. It was Neeko’s inexperience with training centers that led to his confusion.

  “Mages have been going to training centers for years,” Basen explained. “They’ve cast thousands of fireballs here.”

  “Oh, I see. You’re familiarizing yourself here so it’s easier to make a portal if we need to escape.”

  “Actually, no. We won’t be able to escape by portal.” Basen showed him the akorell bracelet that was barely glowing. “This won’t be charged until tomorrow.”

  “Then what did you mean when you said, ‘In case this doesn’t work’?”

  “In case we have to return to kill Tauwin at a later time.”

  When they entered the training center, Basen walked around the training dummies until he came to that familiar feeling of heaviness in the air. It would take only a few moments to sear the image of this location into his mind. But Neeko kept distracting him with a look as if he pitied Basen.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing,” Neeko answered.

  “I’m trying to memorize this place, but your face keeps distracting me. Just satisfy my curiosity so we can move on. What?”

  “You and Abith don’t seem to realize something.”

  Abith clicked his tongue and folded his arms. “And what’s that?”

  “If I don’t kill Tauwin cleanly by surprise, we’ll have two hells of a fight to deal with. So how do you expect us to escape with our lives unless we can take a portal out?”

  Abith and Basen were to finish Tauwin if Neeko couldn’t. Then they would escape. If all of them failed, Abith would give the order to run. He and Basen could outrun anyone, and Neeko could lose any pursuer with his ability to take flight, even if it didn’t last long.

  Basen didn’t see the problem.

  “What’s so bad about the plan?”

  “You’ll really leave with Tauwin still alive?” Neeko asked.

  “If we have to,” Basen said. “Hence the portal I’m learning to make here.”

  “If Tauwin lives, our army will be chased back to the Academy, which will be destroyed. The war will end today anyway, win or lose.”

  “Did Terren tell you that?”

  “No.”

  “Then it’s not true,” Basen insisted.

  “We’re losing time here, boys,” Abith said. “Basen, focus to get this done. Neeko, trust the plan.”

  But Basen couldn’t focus. He was too busy trying to read Neeko’s expression.

  He’s still not completely invested in this war.

  “Neeko, if we protect each other, we’ll get through this alive. And if you can’t kill Tauwin, I will.”

  Neeko nodded as he rolled his hand through the air. “I’m with you; let’s go.”

  *****

  Cleve got his first glimpse of Tauwin’s army in its entirety as his enemies stood in front of the walls of the capital. There were thousands, but how many exactly? Their numbers would determine the battle strategy. Cleve had seen an army this size before, when they’d faced the Krepps and the forces allegiant to Basen’s uncle, but Cleve had more allies to fight with him then. It seemed now they would be outnumbered at least two to one.

  It was almost as if Ulric’s army hadn’t gone after all. Could Terren be wrong?

  There was another issue. Tauwin’s army positioned itself in front of the city rather than taking cover behind the walls. Why aren’t they using the walls to their advantage?

  Either they’d anticipated the walls collapsing from the catapults neatly positioned behind the first ten rows of swordsmen and psychics for protection, or there was some other advantage they hoped to claim by engaging out here on the open land. The only other cover was the forest to the east. But Terren had made sure to keep clear of the trees, where their enemies could be hiding.

  “Halt!” Terren raised his fist as he turned to face his army.

  No doubt, Terren needed to wait for their scouts to return. They’d been sent to look for traps. Most had gone toward the forest, as it seemed to be the only place from where a sneak attack could come. Cleve put his hand over his ey
es as he peered that way, gaining some shade from the bright midday sun.

  Something didn’t feel right.

  Where are their horses?

  “The scouts should’ve returned by now,” Terren muttered.

  A terrible chill went down Cleve’s spine. “They’re going to charge on horseback from the forest!”

  “Shit, get back into line, Cleve!” Terren cupped his hands around his mouth. “Flanking attack from the forest!”

  “Shift the lines!” Warrior Sneary yelled to his swordsmen.

  “Shift the lines!” Mage Trela echoed.

  The deep tenor of a horn rumbled out from the forest. It was too late. They were already coming, and only unarmored mages stood in their way.

  The horses charged from the trees, men in full armor on their backs, steel so bright it reflected the sun like a mirror.

  “Horses scare easily!” Cleve shouted to his uncle. “Even first-year psychics can force them the other way.”

  But Terren was too busy shouting orders to hear him. “Archers and mages, fire! Shields—”

  Another horn sounded from the south. Here came the infantry. Cleve cursed as he quickly loaded an arrow onto his bow. He found himself, like many others, unable to figure out where to go as he was stuck between the two charging hordes.

  “Shields, keep those on foot from getting through. Archers, fire dammit!”

  But Terren wasn’t the only one shouting orders. All of his officers were screaming in their attempt to organize.

  Cleve took a breath to compose himself, then found a target among the cavaliers. He shot. His arrow didn’t penetrate the steel breastplate of his enemy, but the force of it was enough to knock him off his horse.

  “Fire!” Terren yelled.

  Other arrows flew, taking many more horsemen off their mounts. But their armored horses kept charging. A storm of fireballs felled many more, but there were still hundreds. So much steel and speed. There was no way to stop them all.

  Cleve got a few more arrows off before checking the infantry on his other side. Terren had organized the shield bearers to intercept their enemies on foot. The line would hold decently, but their flank was still horribly exposed.

  Mages dove on top of each other to escape the path of charging horses, but that didn’t stop the students behind them from getting rammed or trampled. Cleve’s arrows could do more harm than good if he were to shoot at the cavaliers creating tears through the rows of his allies, so he threw down his short bow and ran behind the shield bearers. It was time for his bastial steel sword to earn him more kills. He could only hope his allies would defend themselves against the horsemen.

  The infantry collided with Cleve’s shield bearers, men shrieking as steel and bronze cracked. All of Tauwin’s plated armor had gone to the cavaliers now creating chaos somewhere behind Cleve, leaving the attackers in front of him in light leather like he wore.

  He’d lost track of his partner, Peter, during the havoc. It doesn’t matter. So long as Cleve wasn’t attacked from behind, he would kill every man who came close enough to his blade.

  The line of shield bearers was supposed to hold no matter what, while mages, archers, and psychics were to work in harmony with the shields and swords of the front swordsmen, but everything had gone to hell. Their enemies were surprisingly brave, breaking through the shield bearers and charging straight into the second row, where Cleve and the Krepps awaited.

  Cleve found his first victim as the two of them locked gazes. Cleve held his ground and let him come. He blocked his enemy’s attack, then focused on the next enemy as he swiftly ran his blade through the man’s—Cleve was blocked! He took a punch to his stomach that made him keel over. They’re well-trained! These weren’t like the men he’d faced earlier in this war. Ulric’s bastards! Unlike Tauwin’s mercenaries, these men had been in battle before.

  Cleve took his only option to defend himself from this vulnerable position, diving into his enemy to tackle him. Unfortunately, this put them both on the ground. As Cleve tried to get up, someone tripped over him. Cleve tried to roll, but one of his arms was pinned. Before driving his sword through this person’s back, Cleve checked to see if the man wore the blue armor of Kyrro’s Allies or the white of the Takarys’ army.

  Blue, and it was not a man on Cleve’s arm but a Krepp.

  “Shazara!” Cleve yelled, but soon realized the Krepp’s movements were only because of the squirming enemy beneath his legs. This Krepp was already dead, as were so many others.

  Cleve sensed movement from another angle and kicked before he had time to look. His boot took the wind out of the enemy he’d first faced. The attacker stumbled backward. A sword came out through his chest as his head whipped back, then he fell forward to reveal Peter coming toward Cleve.

  Peter threw the dead Krepp off Cleve’s shoulder and helped him up.

  “Watch out!” Cleve yelled, unable to get to the enemy advancing on Peter’s back.

  But Rickik was there, jumping and burying his blade deep into the man’s shoulder.

  Cleve caught sight of Effie running into the fray. She held a glowing ball of sartious energy as she moved her small body around Krepps and humans. Cleve knew exactly what she was doing, but he couldn’t get there to help her. He, Peter, and Rickik were instantly overwhelmed by a flood of charging swordsmen.

  They held their ground to make quick work of anyone trying to go through them, but they could do nothing to stop all the others who went around.

  “Effie!” Cleve yelled. If she fell, or even tripped, that mixture of sartious and bastial energy would explode among allies and enemies, and she certainly would die.

  But then he noticed the green ball fly overhead. It didn’t go far, but it was well enough into the ranks of the enemies that none of his allies would fall victim to the explosion.

  Erupting fire and the tearing of earth mixed together in a gruesome and satisfying sound as bodies flung out. Cleve had just a moment to check behind him to see what kind of damage the cavaliers had done.

  His army was in total disarray, horsemen still barreling through the ranks. His side’s psychics, chemists, mages, and the other warriors fought with no pattern or efficiency, merely trying to survive. In just that short glimpse, he saw many of his allies falling, his enemies continuing to push through and circle behind him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Sanya had told Basen that Tauwin liked to watch the battles from atop the castle, but “liked” wasn’t a strong enough description. He stood at the edge of the parapets, drooling as he peered through his spyglass.

  “They’ve engaged!” Tauwin announced, sucking in his spit. “The Academy is losing its formation!”

  The power-hungry king seemed to assume this marked the end of a long struggle and that Kyrro finally would be his. But Sanya knew better. This would be the end of a long struggle—for Ulric.

  Sanya had to resist the urge to grab Tauwin by the legs and throw him off the tower. Without a weapon, she couldn’t fend off his attacking psychic, his mother, and his two guards, but she might be able to take one of the guard’s swords and kill them all if she waited for the right moment.

  Kithala and Tauwin’s psychic made this complicated, however. Kithala certainly would get in the way, and Sanya didn’t want to kill her. Meanwhile, the psychic was powerful enough to debilitate Sanya if she didn’t break the bastial energy in the air. But if she did, she would be facing multiple people without the benefit of her best weapon.

  If she could take Tauwin’s bastial steel sword instead of one of the guard’s, she would have the best chance. Yes, that was how she’d kill him.

  It seemed prudent to wait until the guards were less vigilant. Both appeared nervous from the way Tauwin stood so close to the edge, positioning themselves on either side of the young king so they were close enough to grab him if he started to fall.

  His mother was on the other side of one guard, with the psychic on the opposite end. Sanya stood behind them, but she didn’t
go unnoticed. The guards, Kithala, and even Tauwin’s psychic kept glancing at her as if wondering what she was doing.

  Waiting for my chance. She was being too obvious. She stepped forward to stand with them, but on the far corner of the tower. Part of her worried it had been a mistake to tell Basen that Tauwin would be up here, as the Academy might have a plan to slay him, getting in her way. But part of her was hopeful they would come, as she wasn’t sure she could do it on her own and escape. She was the only one looking around the other sides of the castle for signs of an attack.

  Earlier, she’d given Tauwin a note requesting permission to watch the battle with him. He’d given it a cursory look before handing it back to her and saying, “Fine.” But now, he seemed excited she was there. “Laree, you can’t see anything without a spyglass. Mother, give her a turn so she can see what we’re accomplishing.”

  One might think Tauwin had empathy for the girl Sanya was pretending to be, but she knew he was just acting like a child showing off a new toy. Tauwin didn’t merely see Kyrro within his grasp. He thought it was already his.

  Looking through Kithala’s spyglass, Sanya couldn’t distinguish from this distance who was from the Academy and who wasn’t. But she could see it was utter chaos. This was certainly bad for the Academy, as their only hope had been to avoid a full-on brawl like this one.

  Stanmar had led the charge of horsemen, though his full suit of armor made him look no different than Ulric’s well-trained cavaliers. Tauwin figured the men responsible for ambushing the Academy were loyal to him now, and Sanya supposed that was true. They did, after all, believe Ulric to be dead. This meant Tauwin was the only one who would give them the future they’d come here to claim.

  Many were still on horseback, breaking up the last of the Academy’s organized ranks. Terren’s side had many mages, while Tauwin and Ulric did not. But the Academy’s mages were probably stuck in close combat, unable to fire upon their enemies. The only advantage the Academy might still have was its powerful psychics. They likely were the only reason the battle hadn’t ended in a few moments after the initial charge.