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Walk Through Fire (Prequel)

Page 4

by Joshua P. Simon


  Kroke blinked. “No. I’m good.”

  Jonrell nodded and walked off. Kroke stared after him, confused.

  What was that all about?

  * * *

  Already close to a hundred men long, Jonrell entered the back of the chow line. He usually made it a point to arrive early, but that wasn’t the case today. He looked over his shoulder to where Kroke stroked a curved dagger across his whetstone by a tree. The menacing blade glistened in the nearby torchlight. Even though he could no longer see the knife’s details, he could still envision its black hilt with silver etchings, cross guards shaped into the wings of an eagle. It had been Jonrell’s most prized possession. Yet he had never cared for it in the way Kroke now handled the weapon.

  He’ll use it better than I ever will.

  “Uh, so do we need to find a way to get your knife back?”

  Jonrell looked back to Cassus who took a place in line behind him. “I gave it to him,” said Jonrell, smiling at Yanasi as she snuck in front of him.

  “You what?” said Cassus, louder than intended. He lowered his voice. “Your brother gave you that knife,” he whispered. “It’s been in your family since Aurnon the First.”

  “And?”

  “I haven’t seen you without it since we were boys. And you just gave it to Kroke?”

  “Well, traded him is more like it,” said Jonrell gesturing to the knife at his hip. He now wore a dagger some ten inches long with a serrated edge. The hilt of the weapon came from bone. Jonrell didn’t ask what sort of bone.

  Better to leave well enough alone.

  “This was his favorite blade,” continued Jonrell. “Said he had killed more men with it than any other.”

  “So you’re going into the assassination business?”

  “Calm down. I made the trade in order to connect with the man. If I had to give up a knife I never use, but kept simply because of nostalgia, then so be it. I’ve got memories of my brother. That’s all that matters.” He shrugged. “Besides, Kroke will get more use out of the weapon than I ever will. I’ve never been that skilled with a knife. You know, he’s really not that bad of a guy.”

  Cassus shook his head. “Best friends with a killer, huh? I guess that means when the urge strikes him to start slitting throats, it will be yours he does last.”

  Jonrell grinned and changed the subject, looking down at Yanasi. She had her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. “So what made you decide on the new look?”

  Yanasi averted her gaze. Even in the dim evening light Jonrell could see her pale face turn a shade that matched her hair. “Cassus suggested it.”

  “She wants to learn how to fight,” said Cassus.

  Jonrell gave him a look.

  Cassus put his hands up. “I’m just teaching her the bow. I found a smaller one she can work with for now. Even you can admit there is nothing wrong with that.”

  Jonrell bit the inside of his cheek in thought. “I guess it is a useful skill to have in case she needs to hunt for food or something.”

  Cassus smiled. “And the girl is a natural. Eyesight like a hawk.”

  Jonrell raised an eyebrow at Yanasi. “Is that so?”

  The girl shrugged, speaking in a soft voice. “I don’t know. I’m trying.”

  “So why the ponytail?” asked Jonrell.

  Yanasi turned red again. “My hair kept getting caught in the bow.”

  Jonrell suppressed a smile, seeing she was obviously embarrassed. “Makes sense to me. I like the look. A lot actually.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she said, holding her head a bit higher.

  The closer they got to the front of the line, Jonrell saw Hag laying into soldiers for any look they gave her that wasn’t one of appreciation as she slopped food into their bowls. Needless to say, everyone got a piece of her mind.

  Yanasi was the first one to have her stew spooned with any care. Hag even gave her a crooked smile before offering a crust of bread and sending her on her way.

  Jonrell held his bowl out. A big ladle slammed down, sending stew over the side, burning his hand and splashing liquid onto his boot. He winced.

  “What? You got something to say?” Hag barked.

  Jonrell ignored the burning sensation and licked his fingers. “Needs salt.”

  Hag’s eyes widened and her mouth hung open. “What did you just say?”

  Jonrell cleared his throat and repeated himself, almost shouting for everyone to hear. “I said it needs salt. And now that I think about it, a bit of pepper wouldn’t hurt either.” He paused and lowered his voice. “But I guess you were too tired to go through the effort after spending all your energy on your other activities.” Jonrell raised an eyebrow at her.

  Everyone knew the old woman sometimes tried to get the older soldiers of Effren’s army drunk so she could take advantage of them. Even liquored up, few consented.

  Having never been confronted on the matter, Hag stared, flustered. To her credit she quickly recovered. “What I do in my own time is my business,” she said, waving the ladle around and flinging slop everywhere. Other soldiers yelped as they ducked below the steaming globules flying in their direction.

  “True, but I know Ronav isn’t a fan of personal time interfering with business. I might have to let him know you’ve been growing lax in your duties. Or maybe I can find something else to keep that new friend of yours good and tired so he doesn’t take up all your time in the evenings. Double watch, maybe? I do have some work to do on the schedules now that I think about it. . . .”

  A quick intake of breath followed by a narrowing of eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Why not?” asked Jonrell, holding out his bowl. “I believe I’ll take another portion today. And please make sure it gets in the bowl this time.”

  Hag glared. Just when Jonrell thought she was about to lash out again, she surprised him, pouring another ladle full of stew carefully into Jonrell’s bowl.

  “Thanks, beautiful,” he said with a wink.

  Hag grunted. “I’ll get you back for that.”

  Jonrell grinned. “I don’t doubt it.”

  He swore he saw the faintest of a smiles crawl across her lips before she set her jaw and growled at him once again. “Go. Get out of here. And don’t forget your bread,” she added.

  Jonrell moved away, looking for Yanasi when Cassus spoke. “What was that all about? Are you crazy messing with her? She’s liable to spit in your food next time.”

  “Can’t be much worse than what she serves us already,” said Jonrell with a shrug. He turned back and watched Hag for a moment. She seemed to be in a far better mood than before. “She doesn’t look that upset to me.”

  Cassus looked back and then shook his head. “I don’t get it. You threatened her.”

  Jonrell laughed. “I’ve finally figured her out. She’s just trying to get a rise out of people. The problem is everyone is either intimidated by her or used to her antics so they don’t pay her any mind. Only a handful of people in the entire outfit say more than two words to the woman. I think she’s lonely and just likes the attention. So I gave her what she wants, a little back and forth.”

  They found Yanasi under a wide canopied tree where she waited for them to join her. They sat in relative silence, shoveling Hag’s food down between swigs of water. Cassus cleared his throat and started going on about some philosophy that he and Jonrell had studied under High Mage Amcaro when they were boys on Estul Island.

  Jonrell only half listened to his friend, his attention drifting to Ronav and Krytien as they walked along the road. Stopping here and there, Ronav seemed weary.

  “Do you think they’re talking about what I told you earlier?” said Jonrell, cutting Cassus off midsentence.

  “Huh? Oh,” said Cassus, following Jonrell’s line of sight. “You mean about the army’s restructuring? Possibly. By the way, I found out your good buddy, Cord, has been promoted to one of Ahned’s captains.”

  “Well, at least I’ve got successful enemie
s.”

  Cassus chuckled. “Nah, just ones good at sucking up.” He paused. “Look, you told Ronav your suspicions. That’s all you can do now. It’s up to him on what he does with the information.”

  “You’re right. No use worrying about it.”

  “Of course I’m right. Now back to what I was saying. During Aurnon the Third’s reign, Stulic philosophized that. . . .”

  * * *

  Krytien pushed up the sleeves to his robes and fanned the fabric of his chest, pulling in cooler air under his garments. He sweated profusely and his hand drifted to his forehead. He pushed the moisture through his thick hair, matting it against his scalp. “Isn’t it supposed to be getting cooler at night at this time of the year?”

  “Maybe if you didn’t insist on wearing those thick robes all the time, you’d be more tolerant of the weather.”

  “This coming from a man who’s always dressed in full plate.”

  “I’m not the one complaining.” Ronav paused. “So what did you find out?”

  “Jonrell is right. With you no longer commanding the military, Ahned is doing some major restructuring. He’s demoted all of the captains you appointed in Effren’s army and promoted his own supporters in their place.”

  “So now the least competent are running things.” Ronav shook his head. “Good thing Effren isn’t entering battle with that bunch.”

  “It gets better. Not only are the men you promoted on merit being demoted, but they are also getting shuffled around to different squads, separated from the men they previously commanded. Several were dismissed entirely from the army and sent back to their homes. Honestly, I didn’t think Ahned was smart enough to be so thorough.”

  Ronav snorted. “He isn’t. All he knows how to do is kill or maim something.”

  “Then who?”

  “It has to be Hezen.”

  “Do you know that for sure?” asked Krytien.

  “No. And that’s the problem. I could go to Effren now and tell him about what Ahned is doing, but I can’t just openly accuse his son of trying to seize his army from him. Effren’s too proud of a man. I would need something more solid. Success has made him too trusting. Before Hezen rode on ahead of the main body, he brought his father several gifts to celebrate his victory. Most notably, four young sisters who were to be his personal servants. He’s too preoccupied with them, last I heard, to take note of much else these days.”

  “So you aren’t going to talk to him then?”

  “No, I’ll stop by his tent tonight and work the reorganization of his army into a conversation. Maybe if I drop enough hints, he’ll see things for himself.” He cursed. “I hate this part of a job. We’re more vulnerable if Hezen does try to take his father’s place than we ever were in battle.”

  “And I doubt he would honor the contract with Effren.”

  “Aye. He and Ahned both resented the fact that Effren sided with me.”

  They stopped at the top of a small hill, fifty yards from the side of the road. From there, Krytien could see the main body of Effren’s forces where countless campfires flared.

  Thousands of men who could turn against us at a moment’s notice. “Are you thinking about going on ahead of the main body then?” asked Krytien.

  “Before Hezen has a chance to seize the army, you mean?”

  Krytien nodded.

  “I can’t do that. Not yet, anyway. I promised this crew they’d get paid and you know I’m not one to go back on my word. Besides, if someone messes us over once, what’s to stop the next person from doing it.”

  “Better the men have their lives than money.”

  “For some, perhaps. But the others, that’s all they care about. I stop delivering what I promise and I’ve lost them.”

  Krytien shook his head. “Not all. For many, you’re more than just their commander.”

  “Bah. Don’t start that again.” He spat. “No, we stay for now.”

  “What about Jonrell?” asked Krytien, changing the subject.

  “What about him?”

  “You said you were going to spend some more time with him. That was two days ago. We’ve still got over a week before we reach Asantia. A good chance for you to work with him. I still have my doubts about him taking over, but if things get hairy from now until we leave, you’ll be able to rely on him that much more, if needed.”

  Ronav scratched at his neck. “You’re right. I need to stop dragging my feet.

  Chapter 5

  Ronav’s booming laugh seemed to echo across the land. Jonrell couldn’t help but laugh with him. In fact, no one from the Hell Patrol could ever help but laugh, or at least crack a smile, when Ronav was in a good mood.

  Over the last several days Jonrell spent more time with Ronav than he ever had before. He wasn’t sure why, but he also wasn’t one to complain. Though much different than the type of men he grew up around in the courts of Cadonia, Ronav held a wealth of information the men from his childhood lacked.

  In the two years since Jonrell joined the Hell Patrol, he had learned a great deal from the man. Yet that knowledge paled in comparison to the recent outpouring. Strategy about troop movements and supplies, shuffling of resources, and the importance of terrain in battle were just some of the many topics covered.

  And it only seems to be a fraction of what he knows.

  Like the pieces of a puzzle, the theory Jonrell had learned from High Mage Amcaro fell into place.

  Their conversations seemed to do something to Ronav’s disposition as well. Reminiscing about the glory of the Hell Patrol’s past brought out the best of the man Jonrell had long admired.

  He and Ronav talked each day from dawn until dusk, parting ways only for meals or to turn in for the night.

  “You know you’re not going to be able to take her with us. The army’s no place for a child, especially not a little girl.”

  Jonrell started in his saddle. “You mean Yanasi?” he asked.

  “Aye, the girl. That’s who you were looking at, I presume,” said Ronav.

  Jonrell glanced back over his shoulder where Yanasi shared a mount with Cassus. She looks so much healthier now. Hag and Krytien did wonders for her.

  “What would you have me do with her? I can’t just discard her like trash. She’s been abandoned already.”

  “One Above, no. I’m not that callous of a man,” said Ronav, shaking his head. “We’ll find a home for her in Asantia. I’ll make sure she’s set up well before we leave. You have my word.”

  A lump formed in his throat. He had grown fond of the girl. But he’s right. She’d be much better off with a family and a real home than being dragged halfway across the world and caught up in endless bloodshed. She’d have a life far better than one I could offer her. “Thank you.”

  Ronav nodded and picked up their conversation from where he had left off, talking about a battle when the Hell Patrol had their backs against the wall. His visage shifted completely from the caring figure Jonrell glimpsed a moment before when discussing Yanasi. Jonrell found himself admiring the man even more as he shifted from caring to cold and calculating.

  He can be an enigma.

  Ronav spoke of leading a charge with shield in one hand and sword in another, blade still lodged in the severed head of a man he had killed. He let out another bellowing laugh describing the look on the enemy’s faces as they saw him running toward them half-crazed.

  Finally their laughter died and Ronav spoke in a low, serious tone. “We won that day out of pure luck, Jonrell. That’s all it was. It can be a commander’s most crucial weapon, but one that can never be honed.”

  Jonrell nodded in understanding.

  * * *

  “You’re getting rid of me?” she asked, voice trembling as she spoke.

  “No, it’s not like that,” said Jonrell.

  “Yes, it is,” said the little girl, eyes cast downward. “Just like my father did, you’re going to drop me off somewhere and move on without me.”

  “You don’
t understand. It’s not the same at all. You’ll have a home and people to care for you. We’ll see to that, I promise.”

  “But I don’t want all that stuff, sir. I want to stay with you and Cassus and the others. I like it here. I thought you liked me. Why would you have helped me?”

  “Of course I like you. It’s just that an army is no place for a little girl.”

  Yanasi shook her head and tears poured down her face. She wiped them away. “Father told me the same thing. He said he had no need for a little girl in his life,” she said as she backed away.

  Jonrell reached out to her. “This will be better for you.”

  She shrugged away from his touch. “No, it won’t.” She ran off, crying.

  Jonrell stood and was ready to go after her when a voice called out.

  “Wait!”

  Jonrell stopped.

  “Let her go,” said Cassus, running up. “She needs some time to process things.”

  “She needs someone with her.”

  “Then let me go. I know it’s not your fault. At that age she can’t see things as we do. I’ll try to explain it to her.”

  Jonrell nodded and watched Cassus set off after Yanasi. He felt his own eyes well up as he remembered another little girl’s broken heart, his sister’s.

  But it was for the best then. Just like it is now.

  Jonrell wondered who he was trying to convince.

  Chapter 6

  By torchlight, soldiers cast flickering shadows across the rubble of another dead city. Tents sat between and against the remnants of those ancient walls, the white canvas giving the lost civilization a ghostly look. Jonrell walked between those half-standing structures, kicking up a cloud of dust in his wake.

  The army was only three days from Asantia and although Jonrell should be happy, Yanasi held his mind. Cassus had been able to convince her not to run away and attempt life on her own. Since then, Yanasi avoided Jonrell, talking to no one but Cassus, and even then it was only to obtain instruction with the bow.

  Staring at the ground Jonrell halted at the sight of thick boots in a patch of brown grass separated by the butt of a spear. His gaze drifted upward and saw that like most soldiers in Thurum, the man wore full bronze armor. Few could afford the more expensive chain mail and steel plate worn by the Hell Patrol. The soldier stood a handful of inches shorter than Jonrell yet outweighed him by at least twenty pounds, solid as granite.

 

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