Rise and Fall (Book 1)

by Joshua P. Simon

  “Full plate? How can a bunch like this afford that?” he wondered aloud, not expecting an answer.

  “I’m not sure, Sir,” said Rygar. “They also have two mages with them, both yellow.”

  “That last one they tried to sell as a High Mage would have been better off in a yellow robe,” said Krytien coming to a halt next to Jonrell. “These two must know a card trick or two then.”

  “Even still, just be ready for them. I know two yellows aren’t much, but if they are capable, they could be just enough to slow you. Especially if they are used to working together.” He looked up. “Rygar, come on down. The last thing I want is for you to be an easy target.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Mal,” Jonrell called out. The boy met his eyes before averting them again as if remembering his shame. “You should meet them before they get here. Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’ll take over once they approach.” The boy nodded and started walking up the dirt trail toward the fort.

  “You don’t really believe this leader of theirs is going to be ok with the boy letting us through, do you?” asked Krytien.

  “Of course not. Just felt like I needed to tell him something reassuring.”

  Krytien grunted. “What is it with you and troubled kids?”

  Jonrell shrugged. “It worked out fine with Yanasi. What can I say? I’ve always had a soft spot for them.”

  “Probably because you were one yourself.”

  “Possibly,” said Jonrell with a scowl.

  “You know that could come back to bite you one day. You may find a knife in that soft spot of yours. All it takes is for you to disappoint one of them,” said Krytien.

  Jonrell glanced at the mage with a puzzled look. “One Above, Krytien. I was just trying to put the lad’s mind at ease. Besides, I wonder if that sour old mage who’s looked after me all these years ever felt that way.”

  A long moment passed before Krytien spoke. He grinned. “Why do you think I sleep on the opposite side of camp from you?”

  Jonrell smiled back.

  * * *

  Denneth and the group pulled up to meet Mal, pausing for a few moments in conversation. At their distance Jonrell could only make out a few hand gestures. None of them looked pleasant. The man Jonrell assumed was Denneth pointed with his sword back to the fort and Mal began walking. Apparently, he wasn’t happy with the lad’s pace as he reached out, slapping the flat of his blade against the boy’s rear.

  So now you embarrass the kid? I already dislike this one.

  The group approached Jonrell at a slow trot before reining in less than ten feet from each other. The man Jonrell assumed was Denneth glared at him. He was not at all what Jonrell had envisioned. Short in stature, he was a far cry from the intimidating figure Mal had described earlier. His frame appeared thin under the plate armor he wore.

  The group’s armor had caught his eyes from a distance and up close he noted the high quality of its craftsmanship.

  “You the leader of this outfit,” the man said, more a statement than a question.

  Once Jonrell heard the man’s voice and felt its grit, he noticed the hard and weathered face. I wonder how many times a man has been fooled into underestimating him due to his size? “I am.”

  The man grunted. “Good. Then you can turn this group around and be on your way. The boy…” he added like a curse, “should have told you such.”

  Jonrell nodded. “He did. However, we persuaded him to take us here anyway. I’m…”

  “I know who you are, Prince,” said the leader smiling. “And I know who this group is too. My brother used to lead the Hell Patrol before you did, though I’m sure you’re more capable than he ever was.”

  Jonrell blinked. “You’re that Denneth? Ronav’s brother?” That explains the grit in his voice.

  “Aye, the fool was my own blood.” He continued. “I see that look on your face—don’t think about arguing with me. He was a fool but I’ll say nothing more of it to you.” He paused. “I know you’re looking for a new bunch of sorry souls to lead to their death for some meaningless cause, just as he did.”

  Jonrell decided it best to ignore the remark. “As I told Mal, we mean no harm.”

  “Go feed that line to someone gullible enough to believe it. You take even one man from me, and you’ll weaken what I’ve worked hard to build here. How is that not harming?”

  Jonrell looked around admiring the open expanse. “I understand your point, but people should be allowed to make their own decisions.” His eyes rested on the partially built stone wall. “Or is it your goal to keep these folks in a prison of their own making?”

  Denneth laughed. “Of course you would see it that way. But this is safety and security to them and a chance for a better life. Here, their sons aren’t killed in some bar fight along the coast, or bleeding on the battlefield for some rich noble’s cause,” he said eyeing Jonrell with a knowing look. “Here, their daughters aren’t raped by raiders.” He spat. “Would you take them away from that?”

  He’s a sharp one, trying to lure me into a trap. “I wouldn’t take any man away from his wants, or any woman for that matter.”

  “I am not a tyrant, but I will do what I feel is necessary for the greater good.” He spoke louder. “Any man who wishes to join the Hell Patrol and die for someone else’s glory is free to do so. But remember the rules I gave when each of you first came here. If anyone leaves now, there is no coming back.”

  “You champion these people, try to bring them better lives, but you’d punish them for trying to do the same for themselves?” asked Jonrell.

  Denneth chuckled. “Any man who leaves is a man not smart enough to know what is best for him and a man whose loyalty lies in his own selfishness. I need real loyalty. Surely you cannot deny the importance of that.”

  “Aye, but real loyalty isn’t something you can demand.”

  “Sounds like something my father would have told Ronav and me when we were boys. A lot of good telling us did him. And for that matter, a lot of good telling us did Ronav. Both dead.”

  One Above, how can two brothers hate each other so much? Ronav spoke of him with little more affection. Jonrell pressed his lips into a thin line. Getting through to the man was like digging through sand. “Perhaps not all feel as you do. I’d still like to talk to your people at the fort.”

  “No. You will go no further. I’m sure word will spread.” He looked up at the sky. “The sun will be setting soon. I’ll allow you to make camp here, but only for the night. Tomorrow, you will leave at dawn. My men will stay here tonight and watch over you to ensure you stay put and leave on time. Is that understood?”

  Jonrell shrugged. “Your land, your rules. We’ll go no further than here.”

  “The two mages will stay as well.”

  “Speaking of your mages,” said Krytien cutting in. “If they do indeed have any real skill with sorcery, I would recommend that in the future you don’t exaggerate their talents. Others, such as myself, find this quite belittling and take great offense to it. If I was still in my youth, I may have reacted much differently than what I did earlier when we came across the drunkard you call a High Mage.”

  “I care little about your feelings,” said Denneth. “Those robes give a lot of people reason to pause and most aren’t as knowledgeable as you.” He turned to Jonrell. “Again, the well being of my people is my concern.”

  Turning away from Jonrell, Denneth barked quick orders to his men for the night.

  Jonrell couldn’t decide whether he hated or admired the man.

  Perhaps a little of both.

  * * *

  Dawn could not come soon enough to the men watching over the Hell Patrol that night. As the sun dropped, so did the temperature, a cool breeze punctuating the chilly darkness. With the moon rising into the clear sky, complaints amongst Denneth’s men bubbled to the surface. Denneth’s apparent favorites returned to the fort while the others stood watch.

  So, everyon
e is not as equal as you would have us believe, eh? thought Jonrell.

  Soon after such talk began, the more hardened of Denneth’s men turned their displeasure on Jonrell, citing he was the true reason that kept them from their warm beds, not Denneth.

  In an effort to ease the resentment, Jonrell had opened a spot near the fires for anyone interested, and even offered a warm meal. Only a handful of men accepted the gesture. The rest balked, turning their heads away in disgust from the stew, muttering about a lack of loyalty from those who would take such an offer.

  * * *

  The first rays of sunlight fractured the eastern horizon when Jonrell felt a firm hand on his shoulder. He reached for the dagger under his blanket. But another hand, steady and calloused, seized his wrist and spoke in a low tone as the commander shook off the night’s sleep. “It’s dawn. Denneth’s men grow restless and eager for us to leave,” warned Kaz.

  Jonrell eyed the cold expressions of Denneth’s men and nodded. “Wake the others.” Then he paused, noticing the alertness of the black man. “How long have you been up?”

  Kaz shrugged his broad shoulders. “Most of the night. I slept a couple of hours near Hag while everyone else made camp, but woke shortly before the first watch began.”

  “Why? You’re going to be dragging today on the road.”

  “I don’t need a lot of sleep. Besides, it is hard to relax when I know someone is watching over me and longing to see me dead,” said Kaz in an emotionless tone.

  “Well, then I guess it’s a good thing we’ve only spent one night here.”

  “I wasn’t talking about Denneth’s men.”

  He knows they hate him. “Look, I had Krytien talk to the group so you needn’t worry about someone taking a knife to you, if that is what’s on your mind.” He paused, trying to organize his thoughts. “But things aren’t going to get remarkably better if you continue to be so standoffish,” said Jonrell.

  Kaz furrowed his brow. “You want me to change, but I don’t even know who I am or if I need to change.”

  “Then stop forcing the past on yourself and start from scratch. Almost everyone in this group has run away from something and wants to forget their old life and be something else. You have that same chance, though better than anyone else, to be someone new and truly start over.”

  For a moment, Kaz sat in silence. “I’ll go wake the others,” he said, turning away.

  Jonrell rubbed at his face as he watched him move about the camp, shoulders bunched in frustration.

  * * *

  Beams of sunlight found passage through the forest’s canopy and illuminated the narrowed trail. There was a quiet calm about the woods with very little chatter from the wildlife. Only the sound of clomping hooves against twigs and leaves sounded in Jonrell’s ears. The peace unsettled him, leaving him to the ramblings of his mind.

  As his men had readied themselves, Jonrell offered anyone interested a chance at freedom, money, and adventure. All anyone would need to do is leave the Hideaway behind.

  There was no need to fill them in on the bad parts just yet.

  Half a dozen men joined Jonrell, less than he had hoped for, but the commander was sure it was six more than Denneth had expected. Ronav’s brother had decided not to see them off that morning.

  Those who would come with me are dead to him. Jonrell shook his head. What a close-minded view. Unsurprising, the half dozen who joined were those guards who accepted a place at the fire and a hot meal in their stomach the night before.“ Never underestimate good manners,” Amcaro would tell me. Though I’m sure he never thought manners would be used to recruit killers. Jonrell laughed at the thought. Killers? Of those that came over, only one showed any real skill, the rest would need some serious training before he would feel comfortable calling them members of the Hell Patrol. Until then, they would stay recruits. Only after that first battle would their status as members be decided. Only then would he know if they were killers.

  Jonrell stiffened in his saddle remembering Denneth’s words from the day before. Perhaps he was right. I am looking for souls to lead into death. He thought about that as memories of past battles and the men he’d lost under his command flooded his mind. Then he remembered the men who lived on. Just because I lead them to death, doesn’t mean they have to accept it. That choice is theirs. And if they do die, my cause is far from meaningless. His grip squeezed tight around the reins, twisting them in his hands. And six men are not enough for that cause.

  “Wait!” A faint shout from behind eased the tension in Jonrell’s body. Everyone in his group halted and turned to the sound of the voice. The men assigned to rearguard looked back at their commander with a questioning look. Jonrell nodded and the two men set off in the direction of the shout.

  The riders came back into view and next to them were three on foot, carrying packs of weapons and equipment. A boy, and a man favoring a leg as he limped along, accompanied Mal.

  “What are you fellas up to, Mal?” asked Jonrell.

  The lad had his head down. “We’ve come to join.”

  “Have you now? Don’t you think you’re a little young to be running off?” said Jonrell glancing at the other boy. The pimpled young man with floppy hair did not appear to be the least bit intimidated by the situation. He boldly looked about curious. “Your friend looks even younger than you. I’m not accustomed to taking on recruits so green.”

  “We can help. I’ll do whatever you ask, just say the word. And Drake,” Mal said tilting his head toward the other boy. “He’s like a genius or something. He helped design most of our buildings, that bridge we crossed, and our irrigation system.”

  Taking even one away will harm us. Jonrell could hear Denneth’s words echoing in his head. The decision is theirs.

  “Is that true?” asked Jonrell, turning to Drake.

  “Oh absolutely, Sir. It’s really not that difficult, all you have to do is…”

  Jonrell raised a hand, cutting him off. “Now’s not the time.”

  Drake nodded and to his credit added nothing further.

  “So, will you take us on?” asked Mal.

  “You need to look at me when you talk, son. A man needs to be able to meet the eyes of the person he’s speaking with,” said Jonrell.

  Mal raised his head slowly, revealing a welt on his forehead and a dark circle under his eye. He said nothing.

  “Denneth did this?” asked Jonrell, anger creeping into his voice.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I see,” said Jonrell. He turned to the man accompanying the boys. “And what’s your story? How can a man with a limp help me in battle?”

  “Well, if it’s ok with you I’ll stay away from the battlefield unless I’m pressed into it. My name is Cisod and I’m a smith by trade, but I can do a little bit of everything.”

  Jonrell looked at the man’s calloused hands and exposed chiseled forearms. “I can see that now. Are you the one who built the armor then?”

  “I am.”

  “Impressive,” said Jonrell. “Why leave? Seems like you had a pretty good setup.”

  Cisod shook his head. “I’m sick of being second guessed by someone who has no business doing so,” said the gruff man.

  “Well, if you can give us armor and weapons like the ones I saw, then I see no reason to question your work.”

  “Sounds fair. I’ve got a lot of ideas for improving your armor and weapons.”

  Jonrell nodded. “Grab a spare mount and we’ll talk later, when we make camp.”

  “Aye, Commander,” said Cisod as he turned and walked to a free horse.

  Jonrell eyed Mal and Drake. “So I guess that leaves you two, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Drake. Mal remained quiet.

  “Raker,” Jonrell called out.

  “Yeah?” said Raker.

  He nodded to Drake. “You just got yourself an apprentice.”

  “What? I don’t want to spend my time wiping some kid’s nose,” said Raker, spit from
his chew dribbling down his chin.

  “Too bad. He’s yours. Find out what he knows and teach him everything that he doesn’t. I don’t know what our resources are going to be when we get to Cadonia, but there is no such thing as too many engineers. You can’t be everywhere at once.”

  “Come on, kid,” Raker said with a grunt. “Let’s find you a horse,” he spit a wad of chew that nearly hit the boy. Drake kept his mouth shut, but his face was covered in disgust. Still, the boy followed after him.

  “What about me?” said Mal.

  “I’m not sure what to do with you now, but you said you’re willing to do anything, so I’m sure we’ll eventually find a place for you.” Jonrell gestured with his head. “Get a horse and fall into line. We’ll talk again later and figure something out then.”

  For the first time since Mal had stepped out of the woods with that cocky smile on his face, Jonrell saw him grin again. “Thank you.”

  He smiled as the boy ran off. Jonrell turned his horse around and signaled ahead for Rygar to move out. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Krytien shaking his head.

  Chapter 14

  “Amazing. I knew you were making progress but…all this in less than two months?” asked Tobin as his eyes drifted from floor to ceiling and then wall to wall of the vast room.

  “I know. Having free reign to ensure all is ready in time for your father’s next move has ensured that both speed and quality are equally impressive,” said Nachun.

  “So it was your idea to have the forges running all day and night?”

  “Yes. Seven days a week, working in alternating shifts to ensure there is no downtime in production. Bazraki is adamant about meeting his deadlines.”

  “I’m sure the craftsmen weren’t happy with that.”

  “Not at first. The worst were the artisans I pulled away from their trades and pressed into service as blacksmiths and fletchers.” The shaman paused and a grin crept onto his face. “However, it is quite remarkable how attitudes change when the matter of compensation is discussed and they come to understand that far more money would be made under my employ than peddling their wares in the market.”