Forever Soldiers: The Tyrus Chronicle - Book Four

by Joshua P. Simon

  “He didn’t,” I said. “I saw Paki give a signal. It was slight, but he did.”

  She grunted. “Well, then I think it was only between them, because the rest of his men weren’t ready for it. Had they followed suit immediately, things would have shaken out much differently. But with you yelling ‘no,’ my orders for our men to hold while I negated the sorcery, and then their own surprise from it all . . . They didn’t want to fight.”

  I said. “Even still, you did well. Had they attacked you like they did me . . . gods, I was ready to take Paki’s head just for speaking ill of you.”

  She rubbed her hands. “It wasn’t easy. But Paki realized what the rest of his men had and saw that we really didn’t want to fight. He called his men to hold after I did ours.”

  Dar cut in, “From what I saw, Myra catching the second hit of sorcery did it. Paki thought his sorcerer would be his hidden advantage. He didn’t expect we had an advantage of our own.”

  Myra continued, “If you hadn’t been rigid in the saddle then, I might not have given the order to hold, but I needed to get you to safety. Once Paki called for his men to hold, I had Havel lead you back to the main force.”

  I really missed my resistance to sorcery. “And then?”

  “I explained I would not stay my hand again, then went into great detail about how each of them would die should they show any further act of aggression against us. I told Paki I knew he had boys and old men hiding in the back. Asked how he thought they’d really hold against two hundred veterans marching down on them in formation, especially after I took him and his sorcerer out first.” She shook her head. “He tried to bluster in return, but it was a weak effort. I knew it. He knew it. And worst of all, so did his men.” She let out long sigh. “Then I repeated your warning. If they failed to heed it, their deaths would be on their own hands.”

  I knew there were a lot of the details she kept to herself, but that didn’t stop the hair on my arms from standing as I imagined her taking charge as she had.

  “Long time before Paki said anything after that,” she continued. “Then it was just reaffirming that they didn’t poison our fields.”

  “And what did you say in response?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing. I just left.”

  Gods-be-damned, my little girl was a natural. “You handled that well. Better than well, actually.”

  “Not everyone sees it that way. Some of our younger men think I was a coward for not running them down after they attacked you. A couple blamed you, and said I was only following the poor example you had set.”

  I winced. Even the most loyal of groups held dissenters. “How did you address that?”

  Dar spoke up again. “She didn’t need to. The older veterans and I took care of it before things got out of hand. We let it be known we had never wanted things to escalate. Sergeant Labal was a little more succinct when he said loud enough for all to hear that any idiot could declare war and throw away lives to gain what they want, but it takes real skill to get the same result without shedding a drop of blood. No one had the guts to argue with him.”

  The support my daughter had received from those veterans had me beaming.

  She cleared her throat, obviously uncomfortable. “I’m glad you’re doing better.”

  “Me too.” I smacked my lips, still tasting some of the bitterness from Dar’s concoction. “Whatever was in that drink needs to be sold. The pain is bearable now.”

  Dar stood. “Great to hear, sir. I’ll give you two a few moments while I go check on the rest of our group.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

  After he got out of earshot, Myra said, “I thought I was going to lose you.”

  “I’m sorry. I never experienced sorcery without my resistance. Makes me appreciate what everyone else had to go through while I had mine.”

  “That wasn’t just because of sorcery.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You saw it hit me.”

  “And I stopped the second attack before it ever struck. Yet, that was when you went rigid.”

  “The first must have been stronger than it seemed. Maybe the spells in the Southern Kingdoms act differently than—”

  Myra scowled. “Pa, stop it. You’re lying to me again. I’m not stupid. Aunt Ava taught me enough to know that spell wasn’t one with a lingering effect. And that sorcerer wasn’t strong enough to cast one of those anyway. I know you had another episode.”

  I locked my jaw tight, but said nothing.

  “Pa?”

  “Yes! Gods-be-damned, yes. I had an episode. I did exactly what I promised you I wouldn’t do. What I thought I’d never do. I let my men down, and I put you in a dangerous situation when everyone needed me to keep it together.”

  Myra responded quickly in a defensive tone, “You just said I handled the situation well though.”

  “You did. But you shouldn’t have had to deal with it.”

  “It’s not like you did anything on purpose. You’re not at fault for this.”

  “Something doesn’t have to happen on purpose for blame to be placed. If it isn’t my fault, then whose is it?”

  “How about the Geneshans? Balak? You didn’t ask to go to war.”

  “Doesn’t change the responsibility I have to learn how to cope with this.”

  “You’re doing it again,” she snapped.

  “Doing what?”

  “Pushing me away.”

  “That’s not true. Didn’t we just talk this morning and the day before about what I had been going through?”

  “But you still held back from telling me all of it, right?”

  I hesitated. Barely a second, but that second was too much. Myra knew.

  “See! You taught me too well, Pa. I can read your face. Maybe I missed the signs before because I didn’t want to believe them, sort of like what you said happened between you and Hamath. But now that I know what’s going on, the signs stand out like a beacon. Quit lying to me and those who care about you. And especially quit lying to yourself. Stop making this your burden and let it be ours.”

  “You mean yours and Zadok’s?”

  “And whoever else is willing to help. But especially me and Zadok.”

  I sighed. That was exactly what I wanted to avoid.

  “Why is this so hard for you?” she pleaded. “You’ve helped me and Zadok so much with Ma’s death, Jareb’s abuse, and the artifact. Why won’t you let us help you?”

  She probably thought that bringing up those events would strengthen her argument, but in many ways it weakened it. She and her brother had gone through their own hell and still bore the scars. I would not add mine to them.

  “No,” I said softly.

  The look of hurt on her face was like a knife to the heart. The tears that fell were like the knife twisting. She truly had not expected that answer. But I couldn’t bring myself to open up to her as she wanted. And she was right. She knew me too well now for me to lie or withhold information in order to get by.

  She wiped her cheeks. “And if this kills you? What then?”

  “It won’t. I promise it won’t.”

  “Today proved that there are some promises even you can’t keep.”

  The comment was like another stab to the heart, a reminder I had failed her. I didn’t know how to respond so I dropped the matter altogether by laying down, rolling away from her and closing my eyes.

  Over my shoulder, I addressed her like a coward running away from a problem. “Good night, Myra. I love you.”

  There was defeat in her voice when she responded, “I love you too, Pa.” She sniffled as I heard her stand. “But sometimes I wish I didn’t.”

  CHAPTER 33

  Outside of camp, Ava and the Southern Kingdom sorcerers stood in a long line practicing sorcery she hoped to use against the enemy. Hours into their prac
tice session, progress continued to crawl along at a pace that tested Ava’s patience.

  The night before, Ava had been thrilled that Captain Lungile had followed through to discuss strategy. Not only that, he had brought Kamau with him to her fire as well. The three had stayed up late discussing the ins and outs of various ideas. She felt better because of it, having learned as much from them as she hoped they did from her.

  However, when morning came, and it took twice as long as usual to peel her eyes open, all thrill had left her. Gods, she was tired.

  Which is not helping my patience any.

  “No,” she snapped while walking up to a sorcerer. He was one of several she had worked with individually in the first hour, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember the man’s name.

  Mind is too fuzzy. Eh, who cares? The idiot wants me to remember his name, then he should do something right for a change.

  She tried to ease the frustration in her voice. “Don’t treat it like a fire spell. Earth spells require more sensitivity. Go slower.”

  Based on the look the sorcerer wore, Ava doubted she had softened her tone enough.

  “If I go any slower, the spell will take too long to cast.”

  “Time doesn’t matter right now. We’re not fighting anyone. I keep telling you to just learn how to do the blasted thing first. Increase the speed once you have it down just like any other spell. Now, try again.”

  Ava saw the man’s reluctance, not only for having to listen to her, but also for being singled out. In opposite roles, she’d hate that as well, but they weren’t, and she had no time to coddle.

  The sorcerer once more slipped too quickly into the spell. And as every time before, when the earth began to part, the sides of the hole caved in.

  And it was barely deep enough for someone to break an ankle in.

  “Stop!” she snapped. “Ao-be-damned,” she muttered, while stepping within a foot of the man. “Put a hand on each of my arms.”

  “I really don’t—”

  “I said put a hand on each of my arms. You’re not getting it so it’s time to try something else.”

  The man wanted to fire back, but something in Ava’s gaze stayed him. He let out a frustrated sigh and grabbed each of her forearms. He gripped them tightly, far tighter than needed, as if she might be intimidated or impressed by his show of physical strength. The move reminded her of a young boy trying to impress his father with a strong handshake.

  She had half a mind to break the grip and throw him on the ground, but decided that it would only make the situation worse.

  “Now, don’t say a word. Just concentrate on the spell as I cast it. The first time will be at what I would consider normal speed. The second will be much slower so you can feel each and every step. I’ll go through it three times.”

  The first small hole that opened near them caused the man to gasp. She wondered if she had inadvertently caused him pain, but then caught sight of a touch of reluctant wonder on his face.

  “Now slower,” she said.

  After the third time, understanding replaced wonder. He cleared his throat. “I see my error now.”

  I guess that’s the closest I’ll get to an apology.

  “Try on your own.”

  He released his grip and did, going much slower and getting it right on the first try.

  “Now repeat it until you can perform it at full speed.”

  He nodded and set to work.

  She repeated the process with four others who had shown a similar mental block. After all were on the right path, she stepped back to watch.

  Ava had originally thought the sorcerers would be quicker, and each would cast their own individual spell against the enemy. But she had determined that such an approach would likely take longer than they had time to perfect. Instead, she began to break up the sorcerers into smaller groups where she hoped that together, they could more quickly learn to manage the power they drew in. She had gotten the idea when she’d seen Nkruma siphon power to heal her men.

  She moved among each group to supervise their progress, pleased that her decision seemed like it would pay off. Taking a break from directly instructing the Southern Kingdom sorcerers, she studied their habits and techniques, marveling at how well they worked together.

  Turine mages traditionally focused their efforts on perfecting spells individually. She was sure a lot of that had to do with pride. As she watched the ease in which one Southern Kingdom sorcerer supported others, she recognized how Turine’s pride had hampered the development of their mages.

  Gods, if we could have incorporated their techniques with ours, we might have beaten the Geneshans long ago.

  The more Ava watched the Southern Kingdom sorcerers practice, the more she wanted to learn their techniques. However, she worried that they might shy away from teaching her as an outsider, especially given how none seemed pleased with her instructing them. She contented herself with studying them from a distance, picking up what she could on her own, silently hoping that she might gain greater instruction from them in the future.

  Maybe if I can help them win this war, they’d be more open to me asking them.

  Movement behind her caught the attention of one sorcerer, who stopped mid-spell. Others straightened and saluted. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who approached.

  Still, it surprised her when she turned to see Danso walking toward her. He was not nearly the recluse as Balak had been. However, he didn’t exactly walk among the men he commanded as often or with the same familiarity as her brother might have.

  Ava saluted Danso as well. She felt he had more than earned that.

  “High Mage.”

  “Jumla Danso.”

  “May I have a word in private?”

  “Of course, Jumla.”

  They halted just outside the hearing of the sorcerers. Still, she put up a quick spell to dampen sound, knowing it possible for a more skilled magic user to eavesdrop.

  “How are they coming along?”

  “Very slowly,” she hated to say.

  He winced. “Will they be ready?”

  “I think some will for sure, but regarding the majority, I can’t say with certainty. The spells are foreign to them, and the Turine approach to sorcery is much different than the way they know. It’s difficult to change a lifetime of thinking over a matter of days. I think I’d be the same.” She thought of how she had retrained herself after temporarily losing her powers after the eruptions. That had taken months. “In fact, I know I would.”

  He sighed. “Give them any last instructions you can think of. I need you and your men to leave as soon as possible.”

  She swore. “I had hoped to have the rest of the day.”

  Two companies had already been deployed. Only hers and Captain Kamau’s units remained. She had believed her men would be sent out last.

  “I was hoping to give it to you, but northeast of here, over two hundred Kartan soldiers are stationed in an abandoned Southern Kingdom town named Imbal. It’s far deeper into enemy territory than I had intended, but we can’t ignore it.” He seethed. “The town suffered many losses from the plague. The enemy has at least three Noval sorcerers working with the Kartan soldiers. They’re digging up the graves of the dead. They could bring thousands of our former countrymen against us from there alone.”

  Seeing Danso’s distress, Ava held herself higher, trying to convey confidence to ease his mind. “We’ll take care of it.”

  He looked sick at her response. “Just remember the parchment I gave you.”

  “I won’t forget. I swear.”

  He puffed out a short breath and walked off.

  The weight of command. Every decision seems like the wrong decision, even those that work out.

  I can relate to that.

  CHAPTER 34

  The d
reams came hard, incoherent, and fractured that night. On the plus side, that meant I did not have to relive them in painstaking detail. On the negative, there was no build up or time to prepare myself for their emotional toll. I bounced from the most intense part of one particular memory to another, experiencing only the worst moments.

  The dreams all shared one common thread. Sorcery. Obviously, the events surrounding the confrontation with Paki had prompted my nightmares. I was burned, frozen, stunned, shocked, sent airborne, and pelted with projectiles. The sorcery didn’t just attack me physically, but also mentally. I didn’t just relive the sorcery that I had directly experienced. Over and over, I watched soldiers under my command take wounds or die from it as well.

  Each nightmare ended with the artifact, me grasping that ugly piece of wood, experiencing the immense power, and even hearing it speak again. The sorrow of losing Dekar and then Hamath was how those dreams all ended.

  I tried to remain awake between each nightmare, but each one left me more exhausted than the previous.

  I slipped back into sleep over and over.

  * * *

  I blinked my eyes open for good under a gray sky. Sweat-soaked clothes clung to my body, pulling uncomfortably against my skin with each breath. The movement sent a whiff of odor into my nose I could have done without.

  After several moments, I managed to uncurl myself. No matter how slowly I moved, needles of sharp pain coursed through my stiff joints. I must have been locked in that same tight ball for hours, clenching my muscles again.

  The physical pain Dar had deadened with his foul liquid had returned.

  Alone in the false dawn, I pushed myself to a seated position and stared toward the murky horizon.

  How could I beat this?

  I racked my mind for an answer, but like the countless times before, nothing sprang forth. My enemy was one I could not outmaneuver or lure into a trap. My enemy was not one I could strategize around. My enemy was a part of me.

  “Just endure it. Eventually, it has to stop,” I whispered, groping for comfort.

  But waiting was not a practical solution. Not when things grew worse all the time and my will to fight dwindled.