Rise and Fall (Book 1)

by Joshua P. Simon

  “Soldier, don’t you realize you’re in the presence of our queen. Show some respect or you’ll have latrine duty for a month,” said Grayer rising from his seat.

  A Soldier? He can’t be more than fourteen years of age.

  The boy turned and looked at Elyse as if she hadn’t been there a moment ago. His face turned red and his mouth worked up and down but his brain couldn’t find the words. To his credit, he was able to muster together a bow of sorts.

  The General turned to Elyse. “I apologize, Your Majesty, but now you can see what I was saying earlier.” He looked back at the young boy who stood frozen in place, still unable to speak. “Let’s have that message, soldier,” barked Grayer.

  The young boy snapped out of his trance and with a shaking arm, extended the letter to the General who snatched it away. Unrolling the parchment, his eyes scanned the document with an intense glare. As Grayer read, Elyse noticed his grip tightening, his teeth slamming shut as he finished.

  “What’s wrong? What does the message say?”

  He dismissed the young soldier who left eagerly. Grayer let out a long breath. “It’s Tomalt,” he said with his head down, leaning over the table.

  The queen’s stomach tightened. “Tell me.”

  Grayer looked up with a long face. “He’s crossed over into our land and has attacked Namaris,” he said, handing the message to Elyse.

  She started reading the news herself, hoping the General had overlooked something. It was spelled out clearly enough, the city was under siege. “We have to help them.”

  “I need more time, Your Highness. We aren’t ready to meet Tomalt on the field of battle yet.”

  Elyse shook her head. “These are my people. We mustn’t let them think that we’ve abandoned them.”

  “But, Your Highness, you’ve read the hopelessness in the letter. Namaris was undermanned. By now, Tomalt has probably taken the city.”

  Undermanned due to my own folly. “Then we must take it back.”

  “You cannot expect us to lay siege to a city where the occupying force so greatly outnumbers our own.”

  “Not only do I expect you to carry out my wishes, I command you to do so. If we just sit here and do nothing, what is to stop Tomalt from attacking Lyrosene next?”

  “But, Your….”

  “You have one week, General. Do whatever it takes to get it done. Money is no object.”

  Grayer slumped back down into his chair and nodded.

  Chapter 17

  While Ocean Spirit navigated toward the docks, Jonrell gazed out across the busy harbor to the shoreline of Floroson. After all these years, it’s barely even changed. The architecture looks the same but what of the people? How will Lord Undalain and Lady Jaendora receive me? Just like Amcaro, they were more parents to me than my father was. Thank the One Above that Elyse had them while I was gone.

  “What’s on your mind?” asked Krytien.

  The commander tried to hide his surprise by managing a grin. “For being an old man, you sure can sneak up on someone when the mood strikes you.”

  “Please. Even Crusher could have snuck up on you. You’ve been standing in the same spot since Yanasi spied land.”

  “Where is he any way?” asked Jonrell looking over his shoulder.

  “Crusher?” Krytien inclined his head. “With Kaz.”

  As Jonrell spared a look over his shoulder, Sylik bellowed out orders and the Ghal set to hauling rope with Kaz. The commander watched for a moment before turning his gaze back out across the water. “It’d take more than half a dozen men to equal what they can do together. I wish I had a hundred more like them.”

  “That makes one of us,” said the mage under his breath.

  He gave Krytien a piercing look. “You still harping about Kaz? I really don’t understand everyone’s attitude about the man. ”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. I’ve heard all the arguments several times over and they just don’t hold water. He’s pulled more than his share since becoming part of the crew, and lately doing so one-handed.” He stopped but saw that Krytien waited for more. “His Cadonian is improving and he’s spent a good portion of the voyage talking to people besides me.”

  “And those just happen to be two of our more eccentric members.” The mage turned back to Crusher. “I can at least understand the Ghal. Those two have the same mentality, living by some warrior’s code.” He paused. “But it makes you wonder why Glacar hasn’t warmed up to them, doesn’t it? Neither of the three are what I would call a soldier in the truest sense of the word.”

  Jonrell laughed. “Like any of us are. That’s especially funny coming from a mage who swears off any of the formal training that most others go through.”

  Krytien shrugged again. “I prefer to go off of feel.”

  Jonrell continued, choosing not to respond to the mage’s last comment. “Glacar’s just upset is all. He’s been our heaviest hitter for years and now he’s got two rivals.”

  The mage winced. “I’d keep that comment to yourself if I were you. He’s been acting like a caged animal around them lately, especially Kaz.”

  “Oh, I’d never be dumb enough to tell him that to his face,” said Jonrell with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. But then his face grew serious. “You’re right about Glacar. He’s never been very personable, but since Mytarcis he seems to have gotten worse.”

  “The appearance of the Hell Patrol has changed since then. First Wiqua, then Kaz, and now Crusher. He’s not exactly accepting of those that are different than him.”

  Jonrell spat. “Everyone’s different than that giant hairball. He needs to either accept my decisions or move on.”

  Krytien grunted. “Ok. Back to what we were saying before. Crusher and Kaz’s relationship makes sense but what about Hag?”

  “Hag can be a pain at times but we all like her.”

  “Like her, yes. But it’s much different between her and Kaz. He’s looking out for her almost like she’s his mother.”

  “So? Have you noticed how much better of a mood she’s been in? And you realize that the two people you mentioned both had a good enough grasp of Byzernian so he could talk to them while working on his Cadonian. On top of that, each was actually willing to talk to him. They don’t treat him any differently just because of his appearance. Maybe it’s because Hag and Crusher are both outcasts themselves, but they’ve overlooked the things that turned a lot of people off about him.”

  “I’m not saying I disagree with your reasons. Just passing on the thoughts of some of the crew is all.”

  “And what are your feelings?”

  Krytien sighed. “I’m still a little uneasy with him, but I can tell that Kaz is making an effort with most of us, and I know you spend about as much time talking to him as you once did with Cassus. So, I trust you. It’d be nice if he got over his issue with sorcery though. I’d be more than willing to talk to him myself if I could.”

  “Yeah, I guess he and I have become closer. With the trip so calm, there was a lot of downtime to talk about those bits of his past that come up every now and then.”

  “Any luck figuring out what they mean?”

  “Not really. Lots of fighting or time spent training to fight. Seems like he’s lived his entire life with that as his sole purpose.”

  In silence they both stared back out over the water. Even from their distance, the details of Floroson’s bone-white buildings came into view. The uniquely curved rooftops matched the up and down motion of the waves. People carrying cargo from the newly arrived merchant ships looked like ants weaving between the buildings.

  It’s amazing that life goes on after what happened to the kingdom when Nareash betrayed Father. He gripped the railing, thinking about how ignorant he would be if Raker hadn’t picked up on the news while in Mudhole Bay. So many friends I never said good-bye to. Friends I’ll never see again.

  Boots scampered across the deck and pulleys squealed with each tug of rope. He looked up
and saw seagulls soar overhead. The birds wheeled about and dove into the foamy water, coming up with their meals.

  “So are you done stalling?” Krytien finally blurted out.

  “What?” said Jonrell.

  “I ask what’s bothering you and you respond by changing the subject to Crusher, which leads to Kaz yet again. You were hoping I’d forget why I came over here in the first place.”

  Jonrell started to chuckle, putting his head down. “You’d think I’d realize by now I can’t get away with that.”

  Krytien waited.

  Jonrell saw the impatient look on the mage’s face. “I was thinking about a lot of things. For one, what is Cassus doing? Is he ok? Will I ever see him again? I mean last time I looked upon this harbor, he and I were standing together like this, but the harbor was fading away. We were just a bunch of scared kids on our way to Slum Isle, hoping to leave our troubles behind us.” He shook his head. “But I realize the difference between us is that he never really wanted to return.”

  “No, I guess he didn’t,” said Krytien.

  “And here I am while Cassus is miles away doing only the One Above knows what.”

  “I don’t doubt you miss him. We all do. He was well-liked and helped keep us in check. But I think the real issue comes from what Raker told you he heard while in Mudhole Bay. You haven’t talked about it once since then, and that was weeks ago.”

  Jonrell stared down at the water and watched the waves crash against the ship. “I barely believed him until I overheard several others chewing over the same story. There are conflicting facts in the retelling, but the gist is the same.” Jonrell’s hands tightened around the ship’s railing, turning his knuckles white. “You know the day I left Cadonia, I only said good-bye to two people. Elyse and my father. Elyse reacted about as I expected a girl her age would. It tore me up inside, but I did it anyway.

  “My father…his reaction hurt more, even though it shouldn’t have come as a surprise.” He paused. “I told him I was leaving, that I had no plans of returning while he still lived, that I no longer wanted to be thought of as his son. And you know what he said? He looked me dead in the eyes and in the most even of tones said, ‘My son is already dead. You killed him.’ After thirteen years, he still held me responsible for something that occurred when I was five. What kind of man does that?”

  “A man who wanted someone to blame for his pain. A man whose grief was so great that he couldn’t move on with his own life,” said Krytien.

  Jonrell grunted. “And I hated him for it. I still do. To this day, I hope that he is rotting somewhere in the lowest parts of hell, acting as some puppet to the One Below.” He looked up and chuckled. “In a way it was fitting that he was used before he died.” He paused again. “Only…only others had to suffer with him. Men far greater than him died because of his inability to run a kingdom. One Above, Amcaro taught countless mages, and advised every king after Aurnon I. He was as much a part of Cadonia as the royal family. But now he’s dead and so are the other High Mages—all of whom I knew. None of them deserved their fate. And neither did Elyse.”

  “You know there is little logic behind what happens in the world. It doesn’t make a difference if we deserve what we get. It matters how we deal with our troubles when they happen.”

  The commander let out a heavy sigh. “After what Raker told me, I feel like I’m coming home to a graveyard.” He grunted. “I had my doubts about Elyse’s reaction before. But now…now she’s likely to throw me in a cell and be done with me.”

  “From what you’ve told me, Elyse is not like your father.”

  “She wasn’t. But twelve years is a long time. I left her a girl and a princess. I’m coming back to a woman and queen. Just think how much I’ve changed in that same amount of time.”

  “Sure, you’ve changed. But not for the worse.”

  * * *

  Drake watched the city come into view with a sense of awe. He had never left Slum Isle before, so the images he had of those far away cities that populated the great continents remained dreams.

  But not anymore.

  Floroson didn’t match any of the places he had created in his head, but it was impressive nonetheless. Buildings were mostly pale in color, and rooftops angled in unnatural ways.

  The engineering required to create such structures impressed him. I’d love to meet the ones who designed them. Even better, I’d love to learn from them.

  A grimy hand came down on his shoulder and yanked him backward. “Boy, you wool-gathering again?” came a voice in garbled speech.

  “Uh, sorry. I was just looking at the city.”

  Raker spat and pointed. “We ain’t got time for that now. Go on and get back to your station. We got work to do.” Raker walked away mumbling curses. “What’s that boy gonna do in battle? Liable to get his head chopped off cause he ain’t paying attention.”

  Drake walked back to his station next to Mal. Everyone thought he was too young to be a soldier, but he would show them. It will be me doing the chopping when the time comes. He smiled at that.

  Mal cast him a sidelong glance as Drake came over and helped him secure some rigging. “What did you see?”

  “It’s beautiful, Mal. Beats anything we ever saw on Slum Isle.”

  “Give me details.”

  “The buildings are all made of stone and vary in size, some even a couple of hundred feet tall. The city looks to be encircled by a simple wall that extends to the waterfront. The docks are at least ten times the size of those in Mudhole Bay.”

  “What else? What about the people?”

  Drake shook his head. “We’re still too far away for me to see that kind of detail. Besides, Raker caught me and told me to come back over here.”

  Mal scowled at Raker’s retreating back. “Idiot. I can’t understand a word he says.”

  “You get used to his speech after awhile, and really, he ain’t that bad once you get to know him. You just don’t want to be on his bad side.”

  Mal cocked his head. “But you couldn’t stand him before.”

  Drake shrugged. “Better than being at the Hideaway with Denneth.”

  “I guess.”

  “Seriously?” asked Drake. “Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.”

  “This isn’t what I expected, doing all this menial work.”

  “Someone has to do it, and we’re the newest members. The others they picked up from Slum Isle are stuck doing the same stuff.”

  “Easy for you to say. At least you’re learning something useful from Raker, even if he is an idiot. They want me to talk to Wiqua so he can teach me some basic healing procedures you don’t need sorcery for.”

  “See,” said Drake, “healers are important for any army.”

  “Maybe. But it’s also boring.”

  “Everything can’t be exciting all the time.”

  “It was when I was in charge of the group guarding the Hideaway. That was fun having everyone listen to me.” He sighed. “I thought Jonrell would be teaching me more about being a leader but he’s always doing something or talking to someone else.”

  “He’s got a war to plan. No offense but there’s a lot for him to consider.”

  Mal scowled. “Whatever. I’m going to see what boring work Sylik needs done next,” he said, sulking off.

  Drake shook his head and went back to work.

  * * *

  A short while later Sylik eased Ocean Spirit into place along the docks. Jonrell pulled his company aside one last time before stepping ashore while the crew saw to last minute preparations.

  “Look, I know many of you have never been to Cadonia before. Things are much different here than on Mytarcis and even more so than on Slum Isle. Do not, I repeat, do not go running off once we get our gear unloaded. You will remain within spitting distance of each other at all times. I want to be out the gates on the other side of town by this evening. We will not wait on anyone.” A few moans of disappointment greeted that news but th
e commander ignored them.

  Ocean Spirit nudged into the wooden dock with a groan. As the gangplank lowered, Jonrell turned round. “One more thing, keep the armor and the bulk of your weapons stowed away. We want to be as inconspicuous as possible.”

  The commander took the first step over the side out onto the gangplank. He nearly lost his balance at the sudden cheers that erupted upon coming into view. He looked up and saw crowds of people by the unloading area with members of the City Watch frantically working to stop a full on rush of the docks. Screams of “King Jonrell, long live the king!” and “We’re saved!” reached his ears. Several less enthusiastic cries of “That doesn’t look like him,” or “I thought he was taller,” filled in the gaps between cheers.

  Jonrell’s mouth hung open in shock as the first few citizens broke through the City Watch’s barricade, causing a tidal wave of bodies to come flooding through the crack. The onslaught of people intimidated him more than any battle charge. People pushed one another into the bay as they clamored forward.

  A meaty hand closed around his shoulder, yanking him back onto Ocean Spirit and the commander watched Kaz kick the gangplank over the side just as the first few of the mob reached it.

  Sylik yelled out, “Get those ropes and ladders up! I’ll not surrender my ship to this lot.”

  Someone shook him. “You alright, Boss?”

  Jonrell blinked. “I never expected this.”

  Kroke flashed a rare smile. “So much for being inconspicuous, huh?”

  Jonrell looked over to where Kaz stood, peering over the side. The warrior announced in Cadonian with a thick accent, “They’re climbing up the side.”

  The commander found his voice and called out. “Krytien, take care of this.”

  The mage stepped forward, pushing back the sleeves on his robe and raising his hands up high. “Watch your eyes.”

  Jonrell closed his eyelids just as he felt the heat from the sudden flash of light envelop him. There were several screams from below. The commander looked over the side and noticed that the mass of people had calmed.

  He addressed the stunned crowd. “Where is Lord Undalain?” he shouted.