Rise and Fall (Book 1)

by Joshua P. Simon

  Rise and Fall

  Book One of the Blood and Tears Trilogy

  By

  Joshua P. Simon

  Copyright © 2011 by Joshua P. Simon

  These stories are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Joshua P. Simon.

  ISBN: 978-0-9846988-1-3

  Visit the author at http://joshuapsimon.blogspot.com/.

  Contact joshuapsimon.author@gmail.com with any comments.

  Sign up for Joshua's newsletter.

  Cover art by Brooke White with Sprout Studios (Houston, TX) brooke@sproutstudio.us

  Editing by Joshua Essoe www.joshuaessoe.com

  Works in the Blood and Tears World

  Warleader - A Blood and Tears Prequel Short Story

  Rise and Fall - Book One in the Blood and Tears Trilogy

  Walk Through Fire - A Blood and Tears Prequel Novella

  Steel and Sorrow - Book Two of the Blood and Tears Trilogy

  Hero of Slaves - A Blood and Tears Novella

  Trial and Glory: Book Three of the Blood and Tears Trilogy *Forthcoming*

  Table of Contents

  Maps

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  About the Author

  Excerpt of Walk Through Fire - A Blood and Tears Prequel Novella

  Excerpt of Hero of Slaves - A Blood and Tears Novellea

  Dedication

  I would like to thank all of those who helped me make this book what it is today; my parents, my sister, my betareaders, and my editor.

  However, I especially want to thank my wife Leah for her continued support as I chase my dream. It has meant everything to me. Thank you for putting up with all my mindless ramblings, odd hours and quirky behavior, acting as my alpha reader, my IT support, marketing coordinator and personal assistant. I can’t imagine how difficult this would have been without you. I love you!

  Maps

  Chapter 1

  A deafening silence filled the inner courtyard. Massacred bodies with faces frozen in fear and despair covered the space once home to beautiful gardens. Nothing stirred except for the five High Mages fanning out amongst the motionless forms, each searching for a sign of life. The smell of burnt flesh enveloped Amcaro and worked its way into his nostrils and robes. More than two dozen royal guards lay dead, joined by half as many servants—charred husks against the white stone floor.

  Standing amid the devastation, Amcaro’s mouth hung open in disbelief. “One Above, how did this happen?” he whispered.

  After feeling the immense wave of sorcery, he and the only other mages powerful enough to teleport had arrived from afar. He wanted to help search for survivors but he couldn’t turn his attention away from the woman before him. Her beautiful face unrecognizable, her body blackened, there was no denying that the dark red remnants of her robes belonged to one of their order, a High Mage. She was one of only seven in Cadonia. Amcaro felt his gut tighten at the realization that his former pupil, Fei, was dead.

  His thoughts wandered back to the time she first approached him at the age of eight, wanting to be his apprentice. Many thought I was wasting my time when I accepted a student so young. But they didn’t see the passion in her eyes, the eagerness, and the yearning to make something of her life. Now those eyes that were once so full of life are empty. Would she still be alive if I denied her request all those years ago?

  “Master!” Acus shouted from across the courtyard. “Come quick.”

  Amcaro jumped at the voice, and like the other High Mages interspersed throughout the open area, scrambled toward Acus who held a body in his arms. Closing in, he saw the figure was that of a boy, no more than fourteen. The boy grasped at Acus’s robe, pulling the High Mage down to his face. His body convulsed between whispers and then relaxed. His hands fell away. Acus’s paled face told Amcaro that whatever he had learned, it was not good.

  Edali, the most gifted healer among them, fell to his knees and checked the boy over but Amcaro knew the effort would be wasted. The boy was dead. Edali confirmed Amcaro’s thoughts with a slight nod, eyes sullen, distant.

  “Well? Spit it out, Acus. Did you get anything?” asked an impatient voice.

  Amcaro turned to his left and scowled. Rhindora was tall, homely, and stout. By appearance alone, she was the most intimidating mage of the group. She did little to intimidate Amcaro who gritted his teeth. “Show a little compassion.”

  “We’ll have plenty of time for compassion after we learn what happened here, Master. We have yet to move past the inner courtyard,” said Rhindora.

  “Although I don’t agree with her tone, she’s right. One Above knows what awaits us within the castle itself.” Essan ran fingers through his thick blond hair as he looked over the lifeless form that Acus still cradled.

  Amcaro opened his mouth to respond but was cut off.

  “It was Nareash,” said Acus.

  “I knew it!” said Rhindora pacing about. “I never did trust that snake.”

  Amcaro looked down to Acus, whose bald head was still bowed over the boy’s body. “Is that what the boy told you?”

  Acus finally set the boy down and slowly rose to his feet. “Yes.”

  “Well, there were rumors among the peasants about the king being manipulated,” said Edali, standing in turn and wiping the dirt from the bottom of his robes.

  “And do we just take the gossip of peasants as fact now?” asked Essan, throwing his short pudgy arms into the air.

  “The boy saw Nareash,” said Acus.

  “Was he sure? How do we know it wasn’t someone or something else he mistook for Nareash?” said Essan.

  “Look at this place,” said Rhindora, picking up speed as she paced. “Look at Fei. Who else but Nareash could do this? Don’t let your friendship with the man cloud your vision.”

  “My friendship with Nareash has nothing to do with it. I just find it hard to believe that the man we grew up with could do all of this.” Essan spread his hands wide. “He’s never shown this kind of power before. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “The boy told me a few things before he died. Together with other bits and pieces we’ve pulled together I think I have an idea of what happened,” said Acus. “Over the last couple of days, several suspicious deaths among the staff left many uneasy in the castle. Those who died were all near an open flame that seemed to take on a life of its own. They were all vehemently outspoken against Nareash, spreading discord among the rest of the staff. After their deaths, most others who were dissatisfied with Nareash stayed silent except the mother of Captain Marc of the Royal Guard. When she died under similar circumstances, the capt
ain went to the king who acted as if nothing was the matter. In secret, Marc convinced many of the guards and staff to work with him to overtake Nareash.”

  “And there it is,” said Essan. “Nareash was falsely accused and then attacked. He acted in self-defense.”

  Edali shook his head. “Wake up, Essan. Look at the path of each sorcerous attack. Most of these people, especially the servants, were running away.”

  Amcaro rested a hand on Essan’s shoulder. “This is not easy on any of us but I know you see the truth here.”

  Essan started to argue again but shook his head. Shoulders coming forward, he seemed to lose any desire to put up a fight. “No sense in putting it off then. We must rein in Nareash. Rhindora...” His voice trailed off as he faced where the woman was pacing only moments ago. Seething and red-faced, he added, “That brainless woman.”

  Amcaro turned to the sound of great double doors closing on the opposite end of the square. Essan was stalking toward the doors when Amcaro called out, “Essan, wait!”

  Essan halted. “Wait for what, Master?” He pointed toward the doors. “You know those two have always hated each other. This is exactly the justification she needs for settling her own vendetta. We need to catch her before she does something stupid.”

  “She’s already accomplished that. We will not make the same mistake as her or Fei by doing this alone. We will stay together and go after Nareash with caution. He knows we’re here and he will be ready for us. Let’s not give him another advantage by having our emotions get the best of us.”

  “But Master, Nareash is not a match for you. Together, we have nothing to worry about.” said Edali.

  “Think, Edali. Look at this devastation. Nareash fought and killed dozens of armed guardsmen while also battling Fei. She may have been the least experienced among us, but she was still a High Mage.” He paused. “And we still have yet to see the rest of the castle. Something is not right.”

  “All the more reason to hurry after Rhindora,” said Essan.

  “No. I will not risk our lives and the safety of the kingdom to run off recklessly after one so careless. She is on her own. Now isn’t the time for emotion to get in the way of judgment.”

  Amcaro noticed a few looks of displeasure from the others but none said a word. The mages readied themselves, preparing sorcery that could be unleashed at a moment’s notice. Once finished, Amcaro led the way to the massive oak doors. Although grand in dimension, the craftsmanship was more impressive. On the face of each, carvings showed key events from Aurnon the First’s conquering of Thurum, and the settling of Cadonia. And there at Aurnon’s side throughout all his accomplishments stood Sacrynon. Not just allies, but friends as well. A great king and a great high mage stood side by side, working together, earning the adoration of the people. Amcaro shook his head as he compared the carvings to the present day. Nareash, what happened between you and Aurnon the Eighth?

  Amcaro and the others entered the vast common hall of the castle. Large wooden rafters supported the ceiling and from them hung dozens of singed banners. Five banners dominated the ceiling, greater than all others, emblazoned with the seals of Cadonia’s dukes. Smaller hangings surrounded each of the five with their own unique seals representing the lords within each Duke’s province. Aurnon the First had designed the ceiling himself, believing that a king should always be mindful of those who serve him. “The needs of the people should be above the wants of the king,” he often said. A great man. Too bad the meaning of your design was lost on many of your namesakes.

  Amcaro’s eyes drifted past the bare walls, focusing instead on the four long tables at the room’s center where servants of the castle would have their meals. Benches were overturned. To the left and right were the round tables used for members of the Royal Guard or the rare guest. Wisps of smoke drifted up from the broken and splintered remains of the chairs that would normally encircle them.

  Just as before, smoldering bodies covered the scene. Contorted into misshapen forms, their number more than tripled those littering the courtyard. If not for the armor or the blackened swords in their hands, it would be impossible to discern that the figures were once members of the Royal Guard. As it was, many of the bodies were barely recognizable as human. One body in particular caught Amcaro’s eye. Belonging to a servant, the lifeless form crouched, frozen, under one of the center tables. There was no mercy for even one as defenseless as you. Nareash what has happened to you?

  Essan took a step forward, eyes still taking in the carnage. He spoke so quietly, Amcaro had to listen hard to catch his words. “There must be over a hundred guardsmen in this room.” Turning to Amcaro with a look of disbelief he continued, his voice rising. “Just between here and the courtyard alone, half of the royal guard is dead. Nareash has lost his mind. There is no other explanation. Has anyone been left alive?”

  Somber, Amcaro answered, “We should assume the worst.”

  Both mages turned as Edali dashed through the hall. Edali maneuvered toward the table on the far end of the room, opposite the doors. Unless the king extended a special invitation, only the royal family and its closest advisors gathered in the back of the hall. Acus was a step behind, weaving in and out of the wreckage.

  “What do you see?” Amcaro called out.

  “It’s the king! He’s somehow unscathed by the devastation around him,” said Edali as he reached the opposite side of the room.

  Essan and Amcaro made their way toward Edali and Acus. Amcaro, last in line, saw what the others had noticed; a plump man lay on his side in light blue robes. His back was to the advancing mage, but there was no mistaking the round shape and the salt-and-pepper hair visible through the top of the man’s clothing. A gaudy crown still sat crooked on his head. Amcaro came to a sudden halt. This isn’t right.

  Edali bent down to examine the king. Acus kneeled on the ruler’s other side.

  One Above!

  “Don’t touch him!” Amcaro called out, realizing the danger. His words echoed throughout the hall but were a moment too late.

  As Edali turned the king over to check his condition and perform the healing arts, a ball of fire engulfed the mage. He flew back, landing on the remains of a guardsman. The fire burned with such ferocity, the air in the room thinned.

  Amcaro watched Acus repel the exploding fire. However, the sorcerous attack distracted him from noticing the jeweled dagger in the king’s pale right hand. The king’s chubby arm arced across his bulky frame with surprising speed and the dagger opened Acus’s throat. Blood pulsed onto the floor.

  Amcaro reached out with an invisible hand, and pinned the king’s arms at his sides. The overweight ruler struggled to break free, but the king was no match for the mage’s power. After a moment he relaxed in the unseen bindings, an emotionless expression on his face.

  Essan rushed over to Acus’s side to assess the damage caused by the king’s attack. There was no sense in checking on Edali. As the fire slowly subsided, Amcaro could see the mage was no more. The crackle of burnt flesh made Amcaro flinch. “Is Acus alive?”

  Essan closed his eyes and his hand clutched Acus’s throat. Blood oozed from between his fingers. “No.”

  That one word expressed so many meanings. Sorrow for losing a friend, frustration for not acting sooner, desire to change places, emptiness that will never be filled—but of all things it spoke of hate.

  Amcaro took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I know what you’re thinking. But now isn’t the time to allow our feelings to cloud our judgment. Edali and Acus did just that and so did Rhindora by running on ahead of us. One Above knows what has happened to her as it seems she continued without even checking the hall. Such carelessness will lead to our death too, Essan.”

  “I am well aware of the situation,” said Essan in a tight voice, his chin resting on his chest.

  Amcaro sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

  Essan looked up and turned to the king. “Is this truly the king?”


  Amcaro stared at Cadonia’s ruler, sorrowful. “It is his body, but his mind is no longer his own.”

  “How is that possible? I thought mind control was just a myth from old.”

  “No, it’s possible. It is a dark path with many dangers—which is why I never taught it to you or anyone else. Mind control carries many risks since each person’s mind is unique. Over time it will turn the victim into what you see before you.”

  “Then who would have taught Nareash?”

  “I don’t know.” Amcaro paused, studying the blank face of the king. “This man will never be more than a risk to everyone he comes in contact with.”

  “Then we have no choice.”

  Amcaro looked over to Essan and nodded. His eyes returned to the king and then a moment later the man collapsed to the ground next to Acus, as lifeless as the bloody High Mage.

  Amcaro stood for a moment, thinking. I was here only a couple of months ago when the castle was bustling with life. Now only an eerie stillness remains. How could I have missed the signs? How could Nareash come into such power and keep it hidden from me? Amcaro straightened, mouth tightening as he composed himself. “Come, we mustn’t tarry here any longer.”

  Amcaro headed toward a lone staircase in the hall, near the arched doorway to the kitchen. Essan followed close behind, matching his master’s stride.

  * * *

  Nothing passed between the High Mages as they ascended the stairs to Nareash’s personal quarters. They climbed slowly, pausing at the top of each flight to step over another group of felled guardsmen; many still held unfired crossbows in their hands. Neither of the High Mages bothered checking the rooms on each floor. Amcaro knew they would be filled with more horror, but empty of the man they sought.

  During the last two flights of stairs, Amcaro checked over several spells he prepared after leaving the common hall. He felt Essan do the same as they approached an open doorway. Amcaro glanced back at his friend and saw worry and dread beneath his seething anger. We share the same thoughts, don’t we? I feel the power emanating from the room and I’ve not felt its like for some time.