I can’t talk to her now. Just as he decided to take a different route, Lucia spotted him, smiling and waving. Tobin looked back toward Nachun, hoping for a way out of the situation but the shaman had disappeared.
Lucia hurried down the hall toward him, Jober following at a distance, head held high and short sword hung at his hip. Tobin felt a hint of bitterness as he considered that the former stable hand now spent every waking moment shadowing the woman of his desires while he had refrained from contact with her whenever possible.
Instead, I watch her from a distance, spying on her from the shadows like some thief. Why does guilt still haunt me when I know that she is better without Kaz in her life? Her smile widened as she got closer. Probably because she hasn’t reached that same conclusion?
She embraced him with a hug. The warmth of her body and smell of her hair twisted his stomach into knots. “It’s good to see you,” she said in a soft voice, as she pulled away.
“It’s always good to see you, too,” said Tobin, trying to smile.
“Then why have you only joined me for dinner once since we spoke on the training yard?”
Because I’m not able to put aside any lingering guilt around you. “I’m sorry. I have been preoccupied, I guess,” Tobin said, averting his eyes from hers.
“Will you join me tonight? I’d like to talk to you. So much has happened.”
“I wish I could, but I was just on my way to carry out orders from my father. Then I’m afraid I must make preparations to leave with Nachun.”
She scowled. “I do not like that shaman.”
“What? Why not?” She’s never mentioned this before.
“It’s just a feeling. One that Kaz shared.”
“Kaz was not right about everything.” Why is that so hard for you to see?
Her smiled disappeared and she bit her lip. “Be careful,” said Lucia.
“I always am.”
She hugged him once again, abruptly ending their conversation, her touch lacking the warmth from earlier. She turned and left without another word, not even sparing a glance back. Still, Tobin saw how much their encounter had brought her down.
Chapter 15
Brooding, Kaz rocked back and forth in his saddle. The Hell Patrol had traveled hard for several days, moving ever closer toward Mudhole Bay. There, Jonrell said the group should have better luck recruiting. Kaz noted the commander growing frustrated at the number of abandoned homesteads.
Even though Kaz had understood almost nothing of the exchange between Denneth and Jonrell, he had developed an immediate distaste for the way Denneth carried himself. Later, Hag had translated a summary of what was said and Kaz felt his earlier suspicions about the man confirmed. He could not understand why anyone would want to live life cowering in fear with such a man as their leader.
Jonrell rode several paces in front of Kaz and talked in earnest with one of the recruits from the Hideaway that had joined them. Both men joked as if long lost friends.
Why do I not mind following this stranger to places unknown? What makes Jonrell different than Denneth?
The question had occurred to him several times over the last day. He realized it was probably due to the images and scenes that would occasionally flash in his mind. He knew that he had once been in a position of command but those briefest moments of battle provided too little of information for him to discern anything more. One thing did stand out and it troubled him. He could still see the eyes of the men he had commanded and their look more closely matched Denneth’s followers rather than those who followed Jonrell.
Kaz allowed his horse to drift back, so he could ride alongside Hag.
The old woman smiled, showing her gnarled teeth. “You can’t get enough of me, can you?”
Kaz ignored the remark. “Why do you follow Jonrell?”
“You aren’t going to even comment?” said Hag, disappointment in her voice. “What does it take to get a rise out of you anyway?”
“Save such talk for that one,” said Kaz nodding to Wiqua who rode at her other side. “Why do you follow Jonrell?”
She threw her hands up. “One Above, you’re no fun at all. Now I see why you and Jonrell get along. Both of you have the same sense of humor. You should think about being nicer to me since I’m one of the few people round here who’ll actually hold a conversation with you.”
Kaz sighed. “Are you going to answer my question? Why do you trust Jonrell?”
“Who said that I trust him? Maybe I just follow because I’ve got nothing else better to do with my life. Besides, there are perks involved.” She inclined her head toward Wiqua who seemed oblivious to their conversation. “You get the chance to meet all sorts of people.”
Kaz shook his head. “Nevermind, woman. It’s no use talking to you about anything of importance.”
He clicked his reins and moved up a few paces, isolating himself once again. Such behavior had become a habit after seeing how uncomfortable others got as he moved too close to them. After a moment, Hag came up beside him. “I said nevermind, woman.”
“Hold up, now. I’ll answer your question but first tell me why it’s so important to you.”
Kaz shrugged. “I see the respect in the eyes of those who follow Jonrell. Loyalty as well. I want to know what would move a man, especially men such as these to have such devotion.”
“So you’ll understand why you follow him?” said Hag.
“Perhaps.”
Several moments passed and Hag remained silent. Kaz looked at her. “Well? Why do you pause?”
“Cause I’ve never thought about it before.”
“So you follow a man but never question why? You’re no better than those fools who follow Denneth.”
Hag shook her head, dirty white hair falling into her face. “Just cause I never thought about why I follow Jonrell don’t mean I don’t have my reasons. Just like I’m willing to bet those who follow Denneth have their reasons too.”
Kaz grunted. “Fear.”
“Yes and no. The way I see it, there’s a certain layer of fear in any group. The Hell Patrol is no different in that. We don’t fear the physical punishment or mental abuse that Denneth likely dishes out. Don’t get me wrong, Jonrell can be a hard man when he has to be, but he doesn’t use those tactics often. The punishment, however it’s distributed, is more emotional than anything.”
“I don’t understand.”
Hag scratched her cheek. “What I’m trying to say is that our fear is driven by a desire to not let Jonrell down. Those who follow Denneth are driven by a desire to protect themselves. Their fear is selfish. They aren’t as close of a group as we are, and that closeness starts at the top with Jonrell.”
“That’s what I don’t understand. What causes such closeness? What causes men to be so committed to one person?”
“I’m sure if you asked each of us that question, few answers would be the same. It may be a comforting word or a pat on the back for some. It may be the challenge that Jonrell gives to another. It may be the fact that Jonrell has saved many of our lives in some way.” She paused, nodding. “Aye, I’m willing to bet that would be the answer for many, especially the old hands. It may be for others that he is willing to fight and work right alongside his men and only pulls rank when he needs to. For those who know his background, that carries a lot of weight.”
“His background? Your answers only bring more questions.”
She chuckled. “I forget how new you are to us. Well, let me be the one to tell you that you are under the command of the Prince of Cadonia.” She laughed. “Shocking, isn’t it? How many princes do you know would dig a ditch alongside a thief, or sometimes pull a double watch at night so a man running away from murder can get a few more hours of sleep? I’m willing to bet you would be hard pressed to find another who’d do the same.”
Kaz sat in his saddle swaying in silence. Looking up the line of mercenaries, he saw Jonrell laughing with a different man than he had before. Royalty? And yet he treat
s everyone the same.
Hag snorted. “Hard to wrap your head around it, huh? You aren’t the first one to sit there dumbstruck after discovering the truth.” She paused. “You know, now that I think about it, there may be a common reason among us after all. When it comes right down to it, he puts as much trust in each one of us as we do in him, probably more. What more can we ask of a leader?”
What more can you ask of a leader? He took me in knowing how different I am from the others and not once has he treated me differently. And if anything, the trust his men place in him is what keeps many from slitting my throat. Kaz replied in a low tone. “I don’t know.”
“Aye, me either. So, does that answer your question?”
He nodded. I will need to work at earning the trust of these men if I ever hope to find a place among them. “I think so.”
“Good.”
No better place to start than now. “But I do have one more.”
“Oh?”
“Did you really come here to answer my questions or was it because you couldn’t keep your eyes off of me?” said Kaz, forcing a small grin.
Hag sat back in her saddle, shocked, then let out a hoot. “He smiles! Oh, and what a smile.” She laughed. “So, you decided to finally wake up?” Then she gave Kaz a devious look. “Well, now that you realize what you’ve been missing, don’t get any bright ideas.” She winked. “I’m spoken for, you know, and he is the jealous type.”
He grinned. “And he should be.”
Hag laughed back. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to head back and ease his worries.”
Kaz turned slightly in his saddle. “Hag?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
Hag nodded and slid back into the group while Kaz remained alone, thinking more on what she said, fully aware of the puzzled looks directed toward him after their exchange.
* * *
Mudhole Bay stood as a sight to behold, aptly named for its murky waters and surrounding terrain. If not for the unique defensive position the port offered against any serious naval attack, Jonrell wondered why anyone would want to build a city on such unfavorable ground. He looked down on the city from the top of a low-lying hill just outside of town and shook his head. The skies had been clear for several days, but a change in the air told him this night would be filled with rain. He was not anxious to travel roads overflowing with muck and debris.
The unique characteristics that gave Mudhole Bay its name were what also kept it from becoming a proper city in his mind. Unlike Freeman’s City on the other side of the island, where shacks, lean-tos, and other dilapidated structures lined the city’s avenues, buildings here were built on soft ground with substantial foundations. Many thought the skill it took to build such strong structures couldn’t be found in a place with mud caking each building’s outer walls—they assumed that was what kept them standing. However, Jonrell knew better.
Here in this cesspool of a city, there is real talent. Talent that has been underused for so long because Cadonian nobles cannot put their prejudices aside. Jonrell allowed himself a grin. Good thing I got over such things long ago.
After roving across the island these past few weeks with little recruiting success, Jonrell looked forward to joining up with the rest of his men to see how they fared. But first, he wanted to make one final pitch in town.
The Hell Patrol had always been a pretty small outfit, focused on quality over quantity. Jonrell had found that the few men he was lucky enough to pick up from the Hideaway fit that mold perfectly. Still, he had hoped to have better numbers by this point in his journey.
One night here may not be enough time. But what other choice do I have? One night is all I can afford.
Jonrell wheeled his horse around to face his men, a crimson hue from the setting sun danced off the blood red mail he wore. “We are not here to let our guard down. We are here to work,” he said, meeting the eyes of each man he thought could potentially cause the most trouble. “Our primary job is to find others to aid our cause. Now, I’m not saying you can’t have a drink or two, or that you can’t take some willing woman to your bed. What I’m saying is that two drinks better not turn into twenty, and one woman better not turn into three, and willing had better mean of her own volition. And those activities had best be secondary in each of your minds.” He paused, eyes piercing the gaze of each man, holding the stare until they averted their eyes from him. “If I have to bail any man out of trouble tonight, only the One Above will be able to help him come the morning. Anyone of you wishing to defy me best do it now while you’re sober because in a few hours, my patience will be gone. Is that understood?”
He saw nods and heard murmurs of “Yes, sir.” Good enough for this bunch.
He softened his glare. “Good. Krytien, you’ll take Hag and the supplies to Ocean Spirit. Make sure they’re safely aboard. Drake and Mal will go with you. Sylik should be in the harbor by now and I don’t need two boys running around this place. After you’re squared away there, grab a few of the greener men when you go back out into the city. I’d much rather them under your protection so they don’t get in over their heads. The rest of you, can split up in any way you choose. No less than three men to a group and no more than five.”
Krytien answered with a nod. With a final look over his men, Jonrell led the way down from the hill.
* * *
The night of rain started early, a slow drizzle just before the sun dipped down into the brown water of the bay. The downpour increased by the time they reached the outskirts of town. The streets quickly filled with sludge and even more quickly emptied of people. His men would have to follow the crowds seeking to pass the night with a mug of something foul in their hands.
Which means everything I said will be forgotten if they start drinking this early. I’ll have a lot of hung-over mercenaries tomorrow washing away their vomit along with the sea’s grime from the decks of Sylik’s ship.
Jonrell decided to ride straight toward the middle of town, where the hardest of men hung out. Raker will find me builders, Krytien will look into mages. However, few are going to convince the nastiest of men to join our group. Those men are too smart, too cunning, to come over with a few fancy words from a common soldier. No, talking those men into joining up has become a specialty of mine. He smiled.
Jonrell pulled up to The Orchid. The tavern’s name always gave him a chuckle as there wasn’t a single orchid on Slum Isle, and despite the innocent name, it was a bar that only the most hardened of men entered. He stepped down from his mount, tying the animal to a post that was covered by an extended roof. Kaz, Rygar, and one of the new recruits he brought along all did the same.
He had brought Kaz with him out of necessity, as no one else wanted him along. Rygar came along because Jonrell felt an obligation to him for Yanasi’s sake. I can’t imagine her reaction if something happened to him. She was upset enough at their separation. At least this way I can keep a better eye on him.
The new recruit was Krytien’s idea. The mage felt that out of all the ones picked up from the Hideaway, Senald was the most responsible.
Jonrell entered the tavern, inhaling the stale air. Conversations were scattered throughout the large single room, though it seemed as if everyone spoke in unison. Scantily clad women squealed in feigned delight as hands reached out, fondling them as they wove between the tables with mugs of foamy ale. Each burst of glee was only meant to entice the men with the opportunity to move upstairs and seize an empty room. Jonrell glanced up and saw several men returning from those rooms, dressing as they descended the stairs, then moving on to the dice games near the back wall. All in all, it was what Jonrell expected to see on such a miserable night.
A table opened near the entrance and the group settled in. A serving wench came over to take orders. Jonrell ordered ale for all. He hated the taste of alcohol but was smart enough not to try anything else in a place like this.
The wench came back with four mugs, setting each
down with little care and spilling part of their contents. She paid the act no mind and instead held out a hand waiting for payment, her face twisting into a sour look. Jonrell took out a silver coin and placed it in her hand. “Keep the change,” he said with a smile.
She stared for a moment at the money, puzzled. She placed the coin in her mouth and bit down. She looked at Jonrell. “I ain’t one of these whores so don’t think this will buy you some time upstairs.”
Jonrell shook his head. “That’s not my intent. I was just hoping to win over a smile from you.”
She scowled. “All it will win is ale free of spit, so long as you keep your hands to yourself.”
One Above, does no one appreciate a kind gesture?
She started to turn away when Jonrell called out. “Wait.”
The wench swung back to Jonrell with a glare and started to speak but he cut her off. “Don’t say another word. I get enough attitude on a daily basis, I don’t need any more from you.” He thrust a couple of coins in her hand. “This should be more than enough to buy a round of ale for everyone in the bar. See that it gets done and that they know where it came from.”
She muttered under her breath about giving her more work as she stalked away from the table.
“What did you do that for?” asked Rygar.
Jonrell took a sip of ale and puckered his mouth up. One Above. This is awful. He swallowed and shook off the taste. “Even with ale this bad, free drinks will go a long way.”
“You planning to take all of these on?” asked Senald as he scanned the room.
The commander shook his head. “No. Many are going to ignore the gesture but some will come over hoping to milk me for a few more rounds. Of that group, a few may sit down to hear my offer and if we’re lucky a handful of them will be interested enough to join us.”
“Those aren’t very good odds,” said Rygar.
“Aye,” said Jonrell. “But sometimes you take what you can get.”
* * *
Five hours. Five long and miserable hours Jonrell had spent talking to men of all shapes, sizes, skill sets, and personalities. Buying drinks, sharing tales, and laughing at jokes so old he had learned them as a boy. Yet despite his efforts and the steady stream of men coming and going as the night wore on, he had convinced only one man to join.
Rise and Fall (Book 1) Page 28