Forever Soldiers: The Tyrus Chronicle - Book Four

by Joshua P. Simon

  “How many live there?” I asked.

  “Less than half our number,” said Chadar.

  “So we shouldn’t have to worry about them attacking us?”

  Galya looked dismayed at my question. “They would never do that. Especially not after we showed them the copy of our town charter.”

  “Just a thought,” I said. I had learned long ago that the word ‘never’ rarely lived up to its promise.

  “We could make a show of force and pay Sinsca a visit,” said Ira, breaking his silence. Galya looked horrified at his suggestion. Ira quickly raised a hand. “I ain’t saying we attack them. Just intimidate a bit and nudge them into letting the river flow.”

  I shook my head. “You know how things can escalate. I don’t want any more blood on my hands. I’ve had more than enough.”

  Ira cleared his throat, trying to make light of his suggestion. “I guess it wouldn’t be neighborly anyway. Could say the same about them though. I don’t get why they need a whole blasted river for drinking.”

  Chadar said. “They’re also using it to irrigate their fields. And they’ve diverted it so that the river forms a small moat around most of the city to act as a first line of defense. Paki said they’ve had run-ins with raiders from the old Geneshan Empire several times.”

  I thought of the looted grave when we first entered Kasala.

  “Recently?” I asked.

  “Last time was about a month ago.”

  “What if we offered to also help them construct a different form of defense?”

  “Do we have people to spare?” asked Galya. “You seem to have everyone busy already.”

  “I’m willing to shift focus to free up the river and build a relationship with Sinsca.”

  Chadar shrugged. “We could go back and extend the offer.”

  “But you don’t think they will accept it?”

  He shook his head. “No. They were courteous to a point, but they didn’t go out of their way to make us feel welcome or comfortable. Paki said that when they most needed help, the council denied their request, instead telling them to abandon their homes and take residence in Batna. Sinsca refused. They want to keep what was theirs. They were one of the few settlements that survived by relying on each other. I think Paki prefers the isolation now.”

  I grunted at the ‘us against the world’ attitude. I had employed it myself on more than one occasion for motivation. However, I also understood the impossibilities of trying to keep that approach forever.

  “Paki has to realize that we had nothing to do with the hardships of his past.”

  Chadar sighed. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t see us as allies, let alone countrymen. Before leaving, he shared with us a recent letter from the council. It expressed their apologies for being unable to provide Sinsca aid. It also stated that Sinsca must deliver their full harvest to the Batna market for evaluation without setting aside a portion for themselves. It was heavily implied that if the harvest did not meet the council’s expectations, or if it was late, the city guard would visit Sinsca and assist their efforts.”

  “Wow. I didn’t think the council was the type to strong-arm their own,” Ira said.

  “They never used to be,” said Galya with a weary voice. “But these are obviously strange times.”

  I muttered. “War changes everyone.”

  Chadar continued, “Despite Paki’s bitterness, he knows he can’t defy the council without placing his own people in danger. He’s angry, but he still very much loves the Southern Kingdoms.”

  “Like us,” Galya added softly.

  At times, I wondered if Chadar and Galya would have been less willing to help us if Ava had not rescued them from the Malduks.

  “You said that he had a letter from the council,” I said. “Was it dated?”

  “Yes. Less than a week before our arrival.”

  “Molak-be-damned.”

  “Ty?” Ira asked, cocking his head.

  “That means the council knew everything going on in Sinsca before we received our charter. Yet, they told us none of it. It sure would have been helpful to have that information before settling here.” I swore again. “They wanted us to come to Kasala and deal with all this crap despite having other towns available to resettle.”

  “We could always return to Batna and petition them for relocation. I’m sure we could explain the various difficulties we’re facing,” suggested Galya. Her voice had a reassuring tone, but the suggestion was anything but.

  “It would be a waste of effort. They knew what they were doing,” I said with a bitter taste on my tongue. “Besides, even if the council did grant us permission to leave Kasala, how long would it take for us to move and start over again? We might end up trading one set of hardships for another all while wasting the work we’ve already put in. Not to mention the emotional impact the move would have on everyone. This is our home now. Better to work the hand we’ve been dealt rather hope we draw a better one.”

  Ira chimed in. “Yep. And that’s why I always win at cards.”

  I gave him a look and saw him wink. It lightened my spirit, which I think had been his intention. If Ira won the majority of hands when playing cards, it usually had to do with him getting more creative in how he cheated and stopping before someone caught him.

  Chadar asked, “So should we go back to Sinsca then? Try again with the offer you suggested of helping them build a better network of defenses in addition to the well?”

  “It couldn’t hurt.” I sighed. “Would it help if I went myself? Spoke with Paki one-on-one so that he could see me for who I am. I know I’d appreciate it if I was in his position.”

  Chadar shook his head. “Not in this case. I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of sharing your family history with him.”

  I stiffened. “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing detailed. I promise. But I told him that your wife was of the Southern Kingdoms, born in Skida, and you had two children that shared our blood. I think that raised you slightly in his eyes, but ultimately he still views you as an outsider and wonders at your motives.”

  “So be it. Take the same eight people with you as guards so as not to make them suspicious. Galya, you’ll need to select a small group yourself when you head south to Batna.”

  She sat taller. “Batna?”

  “I’d like you to seek audience with the council. It sounds like Paki won’t listen to Chadar, but he will listen to the council. I need you to convince them of our situation and ask them to force Paki to correct the river if he chooses not do so on his own.”

  “Shouldn’t we wait for Chadar’s answer first?”

  “No. We don’t have time to wait and, honestly, I doubt it will be what we want to hear. Make sure the council understands how crucial the river is to our success and that our desire is for everyone to benefit. Tell them of our progress, but emphasize how much more progress there could be with the river. Also, please make it known as diplomatically as possible my disappointment in the situation they put us in.”

  She nodded. “We’ll leave tomorrow.”

  Chadar gave a weary nod. It was obvious that he was not eager to visit Sinsca again so soon.

  “Let’s make it the day after,” I said, feeling sympathetic. A thought struck me. “Neither of you have had a chance for much rest. A day in your new home will do you both some good.”

  “Our home?” gasped Galya, her voice quivering.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but we took the liberty of finding you a suitable place to stay. Zadok and Myra picked it out. It’s just around the corner. We did some general cleaning and repair work, but we didn’t want to do anything more without your input.”

  Galya and Chadar exchanged glances, smiling. Galya then wiped her eyes.

  “I think my wife wishes to go there now, but is too overwhelmed with emo
tions to say as much,” said Chadar.

  I chuckled. “Let’s grab Zadok and see if Reuma can spare Myra for a bit first, if you can wait. They’d be upset not to be there when you see it.”

  CHAPTER 19

  The camp was not how Ava had imagined it. It looked like any other well-run camp. It seemed silly, but she had expected something strange, or at least different.

  But why? Sound strategy is sound strategy.

  Defensive ditches and palisades surrounded the perimeter. Guards stood on watch throughout. Latrines were properly placed away from where men slept and ate, just as any good commander would demand. Tents stood at the camp’s center.

  The smell of food cooking over large campfires reached Ava as they neared. The body odor associated with so many closely packed soldiers commingled with the night’s dinner.

  There was a tug at Ava’s heart from the assault to her senses. Like so many, she hated war. But war had been part of her life for so long that returning to such a familiar setting brought up a nostalgia she had not expected.

  Gods, I can’t believe I’m finding some comfort in this. Especially when the thought of Nason simply telling me he loved me scared me so much I’ve mostly blocked it out. She shook her head. That ain’t normal.

  Filing past posted guards, Ava finally noticed the difference between a Turine camp and a Southern Kingdom one.

  It’s the soldiers themselves.

  In Turine, new recruits would be greeted with silent, hard stares, but there was always the hum of idle conversation, loud jesting, and card game banter.

  It’s like the soldiers here can’t even relax without discipline.

  Walking among the more experienced men in camp made her realize just how green the reinforcements were. The veterans moved about with a level of comfort and confidence the newcomers still had yet to master.

  None of the Turine volunteers appeared intimidated by the situation, not even Eder. Most walked with chests puffed, chins high, and sneers firmly set as they met and held the eyes of any Southern Kingdom veteran daring to meet theirs. She welcomed that brash behavior. In her eyes, a soldier with a chip on their shoulder was better suited for war than one easily intimidated or unsure of themselves.

  Closing in on the center of camp, she peeked into open tent flaps, noting which held supplies and which acted as shelter for officers or particular units.

  She recognized the infirmary by smell and sound long before she got there. Death, pain, and suffering were another constant regardless of culture.

  They came to a halt.

  Ava stepped briefly out of line to see around the two hundred Southern Kingdom soldiers who blocked her view. At the front, Kamau spoke with a man she had to believe was Jumla Danso. She had not asked about the man’s physical description, but everything about him spoke of someone in charge. He was not a huge man, only a couple of inches taller than she and maybe thirty pounds heavier, but his presence cast a large shadow.

  The reverence Captain Kamau showed him further supported her hunch.

  Kamau and the man she assumed was Danso were too far away for her to make out all of his physical details, but one thing that stood out was that his armor did not shine. This surprised her as many times in the Turine army, high-ranking officers like Balak wore garb that appeared newer or at least cleaner than everyone else due to a lack of use. However, this man’s armor looked as though he had fought and killed thrice as often as any around him.

  Her study of the man ceased as an older officer with close-cropped hair and gray at his temples shouted an order. Even if she hadn’t picked up much of the tongue from Chadar and Galya on their way south, she could have pieced together the meaning from its tone.

  She and her men snapped to attention out of habit. The older officer began grabbing southern kingdom soldiers out of line, then pushing them off as he redistributed them.

  Three times she watched him strike an individual who she assumed had not moved fast enough for the officer’s liking. She was not unfamiliar with such behavior, but the treatment still put her in a sour mood by the time the officer reached her.

  He halted and stared down with emotionless eyes. He had Ava by at least a head in height for which he seemed amused. He wasn’t thick, but what muscle he bore was knotted with strength. She imagined that many a soldier shrunk beneath both the officer’s presence and his stare.

  She was not one of them.

  She could end the man’s life with a simple flick of her wrist from either sorcery or steel.

  The officer’s eyes needed the confidence her brother had never lacked. The lack of it prevented his intimidation from ringing true.

  I don’t think Tyrus was always certain he’d win a battle, but you never once picked up on his doubt. It always seemed like no matter what someone said or did, he had thought how to counter it. But this man wears a look of doubt. Does he know about my skills then?

  Ava grew tired of waiting on the officer to speak. She couldn’t help herself and offered a wink. The man’s eyes widened which caused her to smile.

  There was a snicker to her left. Several Turine soldiers had noticed the exchange.

  The officer wheeled in the direction of the outburst, then back to Ava. “My name is Captain Lungile.”

  She said nothing.

  “Answer me when I’m speaking to you.”

  “I didn’t hear a question,” she said, in no mood and too experienced to put up with someone who treated her like a new recruit still in basic training. “That’s generally what precedes an answer.”

  His mouth twisted. “Woman, I am a commanding officer in this army and you will speak to me with respect.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I speak with respect to those who give me the same courtesy. You want respect? Then show it to me. I’ve more than earned it. And don’t call me woman again like you mean it as an insult. My name is Ava.” She allowed her hands to glow, a precursor for her next line. “High Mage Ava.”

  She wasn’t really a High Mage in that she had never been crowned one by the Council of High Mages in Hol.

  But they’re no more so why not give myself the title? And I’m pretty sure I could pass the test now. . .

  Lungile hesitated.

  That will do little to help him establish authority.

  She didn’t care though.

  There was another snicker beside her at Lungile’s hesitation. The captain moved lightning quick, faster than Ava had expected. Lungile’s arm lashed out, but it did not strike her.

  Instead, the slap popped loudly across the cheek of the man to her left. She reacted almost as fast, spinning toward the soldier as his head whipped to the side and he stumbled.

  Rage washed over her. Rather than act against her, the officer had chosen a less dangerous option to enforce his authority upon.

  “Coward!” she snapped, raising her hand as it blazed red.

  Shouts and sharp movement came from behind, but her focus was only on Lungile. She would not let him get away with striking one of her men.

  Her arm came forward, but someone grabbed her wrist.

  How? My barrier . . .

  She had no time to think further on that as the hand that grabbed her spun her while another pushed into her shoulder.

  Danso.

  It made little sense to fight against the sweeping leg she expected to follow. Instead, she latched her free hand on a crease in the armor of her opponent, and drove her foot into the kneecap of her attacker’s front leg just as the sweep came. Her opponent had to make a decision in that moment—try to stay upright as he threw her down and potentially break a knee, or go down too.

  He wisely chose to fall.

  Ava had expected it as the man was either confident in his abilities or resistant to sorcery to attack her so openly. While continuing to hold her opponent, she twisted her other hand f
ree of his grasp and released a catch at her wrist. A small dagger fell into her palm.

  A dagger was not her weapon of choice, but she knew how to use one.

  She brought the blade around while also tucking her chin so that she did not strike her head on the fall. The difficulty of positioning herself was made worse by the weight of her attacker when he pinned her at impact.

  The two went still at once as she applied the point of her dagger to his crotch and he placed pressure with the tip of a knife on the side of her neck.

  Ao’s teats, when did he draw that?

  The entire exchange had lasted mere seconds.

  Jumla Danso straddled her. He stared down with deep, round eyes, a sharp jaw, and dark, full lips. Under different circumstances, she might have been pleased with their current position.

  “You will not harm my men. Is that understood?” His tone indicated annoyance rather than the anger she had expected.

  She quelled her own anger, not an easy task, but one she had gotten better at doing in the last year and a half. “Your men, not even your officers, will not strike any Turine volunteer. Is that understood?”

  She felt the tiniest bit of pressure jabbing the side of her neck. Her eyes flicked down to the knife Danso held there. One tiny move and he could open her so that she’d bleed out in less than a minute.

  “I am the commander of this army and all here are mine, including you. I do not negotiate.”

  Her hand shifted ever so slightly beneath Danso as she applied the same level of pressure with her dagger. The point entered a crease in the man’s armor, digging into the flesh at his crotch.

  She whispered, “You may want to reconsider that.”

  He applied incremental more pressure to the dagger at her neck. “I have no qualms about ending your life.”

  She did the same and he responded with a small intake of breath. “And I have no qualms about ending your ability to make life. Even if it means losing my own in the process.”

  He studied her intensely as if gauging whether she bluffed.