Rise and Fall (Book 1)

by Joshua P. Simon

  Pathetic.

  He was nodding absently at the man next to him while praying the man would conclude the impossibly long tale. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a half-dressed woman leading a man upstairs.

  That’s at least her fifth this night. Maybe I should be buying women instead of ale? Nah, I’m not that desperate yet…though if things don’t get any better it may come to that. He shook his head in disgust as he considered the notion.

  “...and I swear on my dead mother’s grave that’s what happened,” said the man, finishing his tale and gulping down the contents of his mug.

  The unexpected silence from the man startled Jonrell from his thoughts. “Aye, it sounds like quite the adventure,” he said, trying to sound sincere.

  The man settled his mug down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Oh, it was. And I’ve got plenty more.” He paused looking down at the table and then to Jonrell. “I’d be grateful for another drink. You know, it helps keep the mouth wet when retelling such long tales.”

  I’ll bet it does. “All in due time. We’ve been talking for some time now and I was hoping you could give me an answer to my offer.”

  The man’s face twisted into confusion. “What offer?”

  Jonrell sighed, growing agitated. “The offer about joining the Hell Patrol and journeying to Cadonia. The offer of making more money than what you’d ever expect to see staying here.”

  The man waved a hand. “No, I’m not interested in that. Money is great but I’d rather be alive and drunk than rich and dead,” said the man with a chuckle. “Speaking of,” he added, looking down at his empty mug, “I sure could use another drink.”

  Jonrell’s jaw clenched. “Then I suggest you find another fool to support your habits. We’re done.”

  The man’s face turned to shock. “But I thought you wished to hear about my life and adventures…”

  “Adventures,” Jonrell said with disgust. “You’ve wasted enough of my time spouting off your lies. Now get out of here.”

  “I see,” said the man. He got up and without another word left the table, moving to another nearby. He slapped one of the men on the back as if old friends, starting another tale while casually reaching for someone’s ale.

  Jonrell sunk into his chair and saw the others at the table looking concerned. Each had hardly said anything during the night, especially Kaz who had yet to even touch his ale. “I hate to say it but I think we need to call it a night. I knew this was the wrong time of year but we had to make the effort.” He shook his head. “Spring is much better. You’ll find more willing bodies after a winter of drinking and whoring their money away. They’re more eager to refill their pockets.”

  The commander stood up and the others did the same.

  “You the one buying all these fools drinks?” came a voice from behind.

  Jonrell turned and met the man’s eyes, but not before noticing a face full of scars framed in a patchy beard. Now this is the kind of man I’m looking for. The uglier the better. “I am.”

  He nodded. “My boss wants to see you.”

  “Boss?”

  “Aye.” He turned and began walking across the room.

  “I guess we’re supposed to follow him?” asked Rygar.

  “It would seem so,” said Jonrell.

  “Be wary. This man watched us the entire night,” said Kaz, speaking for the first time since entering the bar.

  Jonrell shrugged and followed the man to a table in the tavern’s back corner where the lamps were dimmed.

  Why do these people always feel the need to be mysterious?

  Two men, just as grizzled as the first, flanked the table. Another draped in shadow stood between the figures. Little could be made of his features except that he seemed to occupy more space than the others.

  “My name is Jonrell,” he turned and gestured, “this is…..”

  The man in shadow cut in with a thick voice. “I don’t care.”

  Jonrell was taken aback. “I figured we should make some sort of introductions before getting down to business.”

  “I have no business with you,” said the thick voice.

  Jonrell felt his face flush. I’ve had enough for one night. “Hey, you’re the one who called us over. We were just on our way out, so I’ll be more than happy to leave you to your little spot back here if you’ve changed your mind.”

  “I haven’t changed my mind about anything and you can leave whenever you want.” He paused a moment. “But first, I’ll have the rest of that money you keep waving around.”

  Jonrell sighed. “Oh?”

  “I figured if a man is dumb enough to throw his money away on these useless drunks, he’d be willing to hand it over to me. I know I can find more than a dozen better uses for it than what you have.”

  He’s got me there. “Look, you’re obviously a smart man. I can tell you how to make a lot more money than this.”

  The man in shadow let out a snort. “How? By joining your pathetic group? And I suppose you’d be the one to lead us since you do all the talking? No, that’s not my style. I don’t take orders from a bunch of little men. Especially not a crew of kids and freaks,” said the man looking at Rygar and Kaz.

  Jonrell glanced at Kaz from the corner of his eye. His face was hard as granite, and the commander was glad Kaz hadn’t learned enough Cadonian to pick up what was said. Though from the black man’s stance and muscles flexing and relaxing with each breath, it seemed he was prepared for things to get ugly. Jonrell’s eyes moved back to the man in shadow. “Not many people would say that about the Hell Patrol.”

  The man in shadow made another sound that this time Jonrell knew was a laugh. “It takes more than a silly name, an exaggerated reputation, and fancy armor to impress me.”

  “A man’s entitled to his opinion no matter how ill informed it is. We’ll be on our way,” he added, making a motion for the door.

  “You’re not going anywhere with that coin.”

  Jonrell looked at the four men. “If you know who we are, then you know I can’t do that. After all, I do have a lot of stories to live up to,” he said with a grin. “The way I see it four on four seems like pretty good odds. But, personally, I’d rather not. It’s been a long day.”

  The man in shadow barked a laugh. “You may want to recount your number. That green looking fellow you were sitting with snuck out the door as you walked over. That tells me all I need to know about the kind of man you are and the kind you command.”

  Jonrell saw that the man was right. Only Kaz and Rygar were with him. I’m going to kill Krytien for suggesting I take Senald. Right after I kill Senald. Jonrell’s face twisted, eyes narrowing. “So be it. Three against four. That should add a bit of embarrassment to you once we’re done here,” he said, hearing an audible gulp from Rygar. Just do what you can kid and try to stay alive.

  The man in shadow suddenly grew in size. The figure towered above the others at what Jonrell estimated to be near nine feet.

  One Above, he was sitting the entire time. With the shove of a hand, the man tossed the table in front of him, slamming it with a crack against the nearest wall. The bar’s conversations were replaced with the sound of chairs skidding across the floor and the shuffle of boots exiting the tavern. The man in shadow stepped into the light. Jonrell saw his chin and forehead were overly pronounced, jutting from his face with a steep slope. The thick voice made more sense now.

  A Ghal? Here?

  The Ghal grinned. “Now who is going to be embarrassed by…”

  A black blur shot out from the corner of Jonrell’s eye with the speed of a striking snake. The giant’s head rocked back. The Ghal staggered to the side, blinking as he leaned onto the scarred man next to him in an effort to steady himself. The man couldn’t move away in time, nor was he strong enough to hold the enormous body up. Despite his best efforts both slumped to the ground in a heap of tangled limbs.

  Rygar already had his blade out, guarding the two others. Thei
r eyes blinked in disbelief and their mouths hung open.

  Aye, I can’t believe it either. One Above, I barely saw it. “Sit them down at an empty table and keep a close eye on them for now.”

  Jonrell turned back to the floor after he was satisfied that the two others weren’t interested in making a move. Kaz stood over the giant, ready to strike again.

  The Ghal started to come around, shaking his head and lifting a hand to rub at his jaw. The scarred man underneath was out cold. Jonrell leaned in close to Kaz and whispered. “That was impressive.”

  Kaz shrugged. “There is a time for talking and a time for fighting. Talking was obviously not working and when it comes to fighting the victor is usually the one who makes the first move.”

  “I can’t argue with that. Though I still don’t understand how you knocked out a Ghal with one punch.”

  “You mean the giant?” Kaz shrugged again. “He is overconfident in his strength and so he chooses not to guard himself as he should. He never thought anyone would dare challenge him. He left himself open to several attacks, really. I picked one of them.” Kaz faced Jonrell. “I think about those things all the time, often without even realizing it.”

  “What things?”

  “Playing out an entire fight in my head, going through various scenarios based on the information available.” He paused. “Those thoughts happen so fast and with such repetition that I feel as though I’ve fought thousands of fights each day.”

  Great. And how often have you fought me? He looked down at the Ghal, moaning in his native tongue. He realized that Kaz still waited for a response to his admission.

  A shout sounded from behind. “What’s going on? Is everyone alright?”

  Jonrell turned to see Krytien rushing over. “Where were you ten minutes ago?” He paused and directed his attention to the man standing behind Krytien. “I thought you ran out on me, Senald.”

  “It’s not like that. He came running after me a couple of blocks over, muttering about you having to face some giant,” said Krytien.

  Jonrell felt his face go red. “You knew?” he asked Senald.

  Senald looked down. “Not at first but once I saw where we were going, I remembered hearing the stories of this giant who often hung out in town. By that point it was too late to say something so the next best thing I could think of was running to get help.”

  Despite being angry, Jonrell knew Senald had acted with the best of intentions so he saved any berating on how the recruit should have acted until he had a chance to clear his head. “Next time a little warning would have been nice. We’ll talk more about this later.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Senald, eyes still examining the floor boards.

  “So where is this giant?” asked Krytien

  Jonrell nodded over his shoulder. “On the floor.”

  Krytien closed the distance in a few quick steps and exclaimed. “A Ghal? What’s a Ghal doing on Slum Isle?” He paused. “And what happened to him?”

  “We never had a chance to find out the answer to the first question. And as for the second,” the commander tilted his head, “Kaz had a word with him.”

  Krytien pivoted to face Kaz, who stared once again at the Ghal on the floor. “How?”

  Jonrell chuckled. “Believe it or not, he knocked him out with one punch.”

  The mage’s eyes widened. “Impossible. His hand would be shattered.”

  “Hmm, I hadn’t thought of that. But you’re right,” said Jonrell. Realizing he and Krytien were speaking Cadonian, he switched languages when addressing Kaz. “How’s the hand?”

  Kaz raised his left hand and Jonrell saw it was already starting to swell up. “It will heal,” he said as if stating fact.

  “Amazing,” said Krytien in a hushed voice. “It looks like he may have a couple of minor fractures but nothing as serious as I would expect.”

  “We’ll get Wiqua to look at it,” said Jonrell.

  “No sorcery,” said Kaz.

  “You need the use of your hand,” said Jonrell.

  “Until it heals, I still have my sword hand. I swung with my left hand in case it was injured.”

  “You mean I was hit with his weak hand?” said a groggy voice from below.

  “Ah, you’re up,” said Jonrell, turning his attention to the Ghal. “Well, I wouldn’t call it his weak hand given your situation now. But, yes, it was his off hand.”

  The Ghal rubbed his jaw. “Feels like someone dropped a mountain on my head.”

  Jonrell grinned. “I definitely don’t envy your position. You know, the offer still stands.”

  The Ghal looked up for the first time, blinking. “Even after what happened?”

  “Why not? You aren’t the first to try something like that and I doubt you’ll be the last.”

  The giant’s face twisted into something that resembled a grin. “I can’t speak for my men but I’m in.” He swung his head toward Kaz. “If for no other reason than to see what he can do in battle.”

  I’m not surprised. Has a Ghal ever turned down the chance to fight?

  “Good. It’s settled.” Jonrell pointed at the floor. “Why don’t you give the guy under you a break and sit up. Krytien will look both of you over.”

  The Ghal’s eyes went down to the floor showing surprise. Jonrell turned back to Kaz. “I still want Wiqua to look at your hand.”

  Kaz shook his head. “I said…”

  “I know what you said,” said Jonrell, growing frustrated. He let out a small sigh. “I promise, no sorcery. Wiqua knows many conventional methods of healing as well.”

  Kaz nodded.

  “Good. Let’s head to the docks and see if we can find the rest of the crew. They should be back by now and I’m curious to see how they fared.”

  * * *

  “Man, you guys look rough,” said Jonrell, walking up to Kroke. Their group had made it in from the north side of the island some time ago.

  “Yeah Boss, it was an interesting trip,” said Kroke, unloading his horse.

  “Trouble?”

  Kroke nodded. “Just about every day we got in some sort of fight. You’d think with thirty-five soldiers in our group, we would’ve been left alone. Most weren’t much to worry about, but it got old fast.”

  “Did we lose anyone?”

  “Nah, nothing that bad. Besides, we found ourselves a guy early on who knew some basic healing spells. He fixed the worst of us up when we needed it. We’re mostly just dead on our feet. I’ve been pushing them hard the past two days to make it here in time.”

  “After the ship is loaded up, I want your crew to take tomorrow morning off.”

  “No arguments from me there. I’ll grab any rest I can. This trip ain’t going to be pretty.”

  “Oh? Why is that?”

  “You know the seas are always rough here during this time of year. Most people are smart enough to wait.”

  Jonrell nodded. “Aye, but I don’t have time to be smart.” He inclined his head to Sylik who barked orders to those coming on ship. “Besides, after the mess he got us through on our way here, I’m really not that worried.”

  “Yeah, I believe he’s too stubborn to die at sea,” said Kroke, flipping out a knife.

  Jonrell chuckled. “And that’s exactly the kind of captain I want.” He paused and changed subjects. “So, how many recruits?”

  “Considering the trouble we had, we still managed to bring in fourteen men.” Kroke sighed. “I was hoping for more but at least they’ve all seen a battle or two.”

  Jonrell grunted. “Not much different than us. But, the ones we picked up are mostly green and will need a lot of work in the coming weeks. I’ll probably put you in charge of that.”

  Kroke nodded then gave Jonrell a suspicious look. “I hear there’s one who doesn’t really need any work?”

  Jonrell noticed the mercenary’s eyes looking off to the left. Turning he saw Kaz being tended to by Wiqua. The old man wrapped Kaz’s hand in bandages, packing some sort of herbs be
tween the layers. “Yeah, not everyone is as raw as the recruits we picked up at the Hideaway.”

  “I hear he knocked out a Ghal.” said Kroke. “That sounds like anything but raw.”

  “One Above, news travels fast. But yeah, we left Krytien back at the Orchid with the Ghal and his crew to get them ready to travel. They’ll be a huge help, definitely the kind of men we need more of. I hear Raker lucked out and convinced a couple of masons to join up too.”

  Kroke ignored the last part, his eyes still hadn’t left Kaz as he picked at his finger nails with a blade. “I don’t like him.”

  “Not you, too. Look, I don’t care what color his skin is…”

  “It ain’t that, Boss. It wouldn’t bother me if he was blue, I still don’t like him.”

  Jonrell was puzzled. “Why is that?”

  “Just watch the way he moves.” He paused. “That’s the way a killer moves. He’s a dangerous man.”

  The commander laughed. “Look who’s talking.”

  Kroke cocked his head at Jonrell and smiled. “Thank you.” His grin faded though as he turned his eyes back in Kaz’s direction. “But it’s different than that. I may be a killer but I’m predictably dangerous. I don’t try to be anything that I’m not.”

  “And you’re saying that he is?”

  “Raker filled me in on how you found him. He seems to think that he’s only pretending he don’t remember who he is so he can do us in later when he’s grown bored.”

  “And you actually believe Raker? That’s a first.”

  “Not entirely. I bet there’s more to it than that. Maybe subconsciously he does remember what he was and doesn’t like it. Maybe one part of his brain is telling the other part to forget that old life and start off with something different. If that’s true, then both of those voices are going to be battling it out.”

  “And?”

  “And the killer will always win out. It’s just the way things are,” said Kroke sheathing the dagger.

  “You haven’t even met the guy.”