Rise and Fall (Book 1)

by Joshua P. Simon

  Things started to fall into place when Jonrell asked him to lead sorties into the city before Tomalt torched all the buildings. He had harried Tomalt’s forces with a small group. Yet, he had always been victorious. Victory felt different, better even, than those flashes of his past. The eyes of the men he fought alongside in the city did not hold the same fear or disdain as those in his memories. He saw respect and in some cases awe. Even now he could see many with those same looks. Yes, some still seemed resentful toward him for how different he appeared. But overall, he felt accepted and even acknowledged. Men gave him a shout or a nod as he passed, where before he would have been ignored or greeted with whisperings behind his back.

  Kaz wasn’t sure what kind of a leader he used to be to cause such hate. Neither did he know why the attitudes of the men he fought with now had changed. He only knew to continue doing what he had been doing since Tomalt started his attack and hope for the best.

  * * *

  Jonrell gripped the stone merlons, digging his fingers into their grooves until his knuckles turned white.

  As commander, there were many things he hated, the endless paperwork, the juggling of personalities. But watching the men he once shared a meal or a joke with slaughtered before his very eyes quickened his breath in anger.

  He knew he could leave the top of the keep, run across the courtyard, and through the inner gate. From there he would only need to climb a set of stairs to join those fighting on the outer walls where the battle had raged for hours. But he also knew he shouldn’t.

  Some commanders thrived, fighting with their men for the length of battle. Others preferred to sit back and watch the events unfold, moving men and resources around like pieces of a giant game. Jonrell often thought of himself somewhere in the middle. He had been known to lead a cavalry charge or help form a shield wall like any other common soldier when the need was dire, but he had learned long ago from Amcaro and later Ronav how to recognize what a situation called for. He was more valuable monitoring the battle’s progress from a distance. He knew all these things, yet it did not stop his nails from bleeding as he dug them into the granite. He watched helplessly as arrows and stone beat against both man and castle alike.

  One Above, Tomalt’s men are relentless.

  He knew Tomalt had the advantage in numbers, but watching the endless swarm of men crest the walls, only to be thrown back over sent a chill up his back.

  What is he doing to motivate them so?

  “We just got reports from Sergeant Lanard that the northwest wall was briefly overwhelmed between the second and third towers. It was the worst infiltration yet. But according to his report, Kaz reached their position and led those units in throwing back Tomalt’s forces. The area is once again secure,” said Lord Caliva.

  Jonrell turned and saw the lord reading from a message handed to him by an out of breath runner. “What is that, the fifth such report? One Above, that man is everywhere.”

  “Aye, I wish I had half his energy.” He looked down at another message. “This one says much the same. Sergeant Brock added that Tomalt’s men are starting to believe that our mages have somehow conjured up a black demon.” He paused and chuckled. “They are running from him in fear.”

  “And our men?” asked Jonrell.

  Lord Caliva grunted. “Most are shouting his name.”

  Despite the chaos, Jonrell managed to smile. He finally did it. There still may be a few dissenters, but after this day, many would gladly follow him to the abyss and back.

  A loud thud sounded. Jonrell pulled the spyglass to his eye and looked toward the main gate. “They managed to maneuver one of the towers to the wall. The blasted thing is right over the gate. We can’t let them raise the portcullis.”

  Rather than wait for his scribe, Jonrell turned to a runner and scribbled on a piece of paper before handing it off. “Go,” he said, slamming the paper into the runner’s hands. He repeated the process half a dozen times more, then turned back to watch the gatehouse.

  * * *

  A massive hand fell hard on Kaz’s shoulders. So substantial was it that he knew not to turn around and run its owner through with his sword. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Crusher cocking his head behind him. “Just got word that Jonrell wants us at the gate. He thinks it can go at any moment. There’s a tower stationed against it and Tomalt’s men are flooding onto the walls.”

  Kaz turned back to Tomalt’s men coming up the ladders. He looked to Crusher. “Can you do something about these ladders first?”

  The giant smiled and with a massive swing of his club knocked three ladders from the wall, pushing them into three more. They all toppled to the ground in a heap of splintered wood, dented armor, and contorted limbs.

  “Good?” asked Crusher.

  Kaz nodded and smiled as they sped down the wall-walk. Thunder sounded above them. Kaz led the way, weaving between men, helping quickly where he could with his darting blade. Several screams came from over his shoulder and he glanced back to see men sailing over the wall. Crusher caught Kaz’s eye as he sent another soldier flying and grinned. He couldn’t help but smile back.

  They moved through the tight press and passed under the arches of the last tower nearest the gatehouse. Tomalt’s men fought their way across the gangplank of the siege tower and forced themselves onto the castle’s walls. The defenders were losing ground.

  With Crusher at his heels, Kaz made his way forward, tossing even his own men aside to reach the front where he could stand against the pressing wave of the enemy.

  Kaz swore in his native tongue as the sky opened up. Torrents of rain cascaded and the water hindered the footing of men on both sides as it coalesced with spilled blood.

  Kaz joined the heaving mass of soldiers, each side fighting to gain even another inch of ground. Kaz and Crusher acted as a rallying point for the men around them.

  Tomalt’s men crumbled. They did their best to retreat into the siege tower itself, cursing and shouting something about the black demon.

  Kaz led men after them, hacking unabashedly and slaying with no mercy. Bodies rolled down the twisting stairs and Kaz followed. He reached the bottom and paused, eyes locking on what must have worried Jonrell.

  The gate had been blown apart and the steel portcullis bent inwards as a man in black robes faced it with arms extended. Three dozen heavily armed soldiers encircled the mage in a tight formation. Kaz guessed them well-trained. On the other side of the portcullis stood four mages, two in green robes, the other two in yellow. They buckled under the power of the black-robed man as they fought against him. Kaz felt a cold and familiar hate burn through him.

  He looked over his shoulder and saw his men hesitate, unwilling to get close to the sorcerous power. Kaz and Crusher exchanged a nod. The giant filled his lungs with air and yelled out. “C’mon, you bunch of cowards.”

  The forces charged the shield wall but unlike before, these men did not falter. Crusher roared in anger, swearing profanities at the enemy as he too struggled to penetrate their defenses. The circle of men stood their ground, stabbing methodically with their swords.

  “That blasted mage did something to them. It’s like trying to push over trees,” said Crusher.

  The portcullis creaked under the sorcerous strain. A yellow-robed mage collapsed in exhaustion. The other three mages shook under the added pressure. A green robe went to his knees.

  The black-robed one will break through any moment now.

  Kaz deflected a blow from one of the heavily armored men and stepped back. The circle of men would not break formation to launch an attack of their own.

  “Crusher,” Kaz called out as he closed the distance between them in several quick strides. “Up!”

  Crusher grinned in delight. The giant plowed a massive leg into the thigh of the soldier facing him. The man went down and Crusher crouched, bracing just as Kaz reached him. Kaz leaped to the Ghal’s thigh, then to his shoulder, as Crusher suddenly straightened, boosting Kaz’s jump and se
nding him sailing over the soldiers.

  Kaz screamed, thrusting his sword point down just as the black-robed mage looked up in shock. The blade pierced the mage’s throat, tearing into the mages body. An eruption of blood washed them all as the mage exploded with a concussive force of released power, flinging Kaz back into the air. He slammed into the side of the siege tower with a bone jarring crack and crumpled to the ground. The world around him went black.

  * * *

  “Forgive me, Kaz,” a voice whispered. His eyes shot open in a panic, remembering the last time he had heard those words whispered to him. He saw Jonrell leaning over him and managed a hoarse croak. “What happened? Where am I?”

  “The infirmary.”

  “What about Tomalt?” he asked starting to sit up.

  Jonrell rested a hand on his shoulder and eased him back down. Kaz was amazed at how weak he felt. “His forces retreated after you killed the mage. We held the gatehouse.”

  Kaz looked down at his bandaged chest and arms. He raised a hand and felt that the left side of his head was also wrapped. “How bad?”

  “The sorcery burned a portion of your upper torso and Wiqua said you cracked several bones when you fell. But don’t worry, I told him not to heal you with sorcery.”

  Kaz sighed. “How long before I can rejoin the ranks?”

  Jonrell laughed. “Not any time soon. You’re hurt too badly.”

  “But I can still help…”

  Jonrell cut him off. “You’ve helped enough. Without you, we wouldn’t have held them off as long as we did, nor would we have been able to repel their last assault. Crusher even said as much and you know how he likes to take credit for doing everything.”

  So, I’m helpless.

  Jonrell patted the part of his shoulder left unbandaged. “Rest up. We’ll manage.” He paused. “I need to get going. There’s still a lot to do but I’ll check in on you later.”

  Kaz nodded. “Go. Don’t neglect your duties for me.”

  Jonrell stood and left.

  Kaz laid there for several minutes pondering his situation. I should be out there readying for the next attack. He muttered a curse in his native tongue.

  “Ah, Jonrell said you were up, and I see you’re already back to your pleasant disposition.”

  Kaz tilted his head and saw Hag shuffling toward him amidst the press of beds filled with injured soldiers. “Leave me be, woman.”

  Hag pulled up a stool and sat down with a heavy sigh.

  “Did you not hear me?” asked Kaz.

  “Oh, I heard you, you cold-hearted snake,” said Hag. “I just choose not to listen to someone who doesn’t know what’s best for them.”

  Kaz winced as she pulled away the bandages on his arm and began cleaning the blistered wound. “What are you rambling about?” Kaz muttered between shortened breaths.

  “I’m talking about your pride. Why won’t you let Wiqua work on you? He has enough power left to ready you by tomorrow.”

  Kaz gritted his teeth. “No sorcery.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “You know how I…”

  “I wasn’t finished. Now shut up and listen.” She paused. “As I was saying, you’re an idiot. Jonrell needs you, and not just for your sword. He needs your will, your tenacity, and the strength you seem to impart to those around you. Would you throw away everything you’ve worked hard for over these past few months with the men because of your own pride?”

  “Jonrell said I’ve helped enough and to get rest. If he needs me as you say, then why isn’t he trying to convince me to see Wiqua.”

  “Because that’s not who he is. He won’t push his friends into doing something they aren’t comfortable with. He cares too much about you to do that. That’s why he sat at your bed the entire time you were out, and only left a few minutes ago when you woke up.” Hag paused. “But I know he needs you and so do the other men.”

  She’s right. Jonrell took me in and did his best to help me when no one else would. And now after all these months, most of the men seem to be treating me differently. All because of what I can do with a sword in my hand. When I’m truly alive.

  Hag hadn’t said another word. She washed the wounds on his arms, ready to apply a new bandage.

  “Alright, woman. Go get your lover. But tell him that if he does me wrong, I’ll kill him.”

  Hag laughed. “Don’t worry, he only bites in bed,” she said, cackling as she walked away.

  Chapter 28

  Standing in his stirrups, Tobin squinted across the parched land as the first rays of dawn bled into the leaden sky. The disciplined mount stood motionless beneath him. The Orange Desert Clan horses had been folded back into the bulk of the army once the Blue Island Clan forces landed on the mainland. The mounts would be pivotal to the Blue Island Clan’s success.

  Just as the scouts had reported, the Yellow Plain Clan fielded nearly forty-five thousand cavalry with another ten thousand on foot, more than doubling Tobin’s army of twenty-six thousand.

  His eyes drifted across the vast scope of their forces, surveying the long lines of horse warriors, ten rows deep, nearly a league long. Most carried short bows, others spears and javelins. Infantry was said to be stationed in their rear, just over the other side of the hilltop. He watched those mounted work themselves into a frenzy, riding back and forth across the distant ridge and kicking up clouds of dust as their war cries stretched out to him through the dead air. A sheen of sweat formed on his brow. The morning sun felt unusually warm.

  “So many,” said Walor, his voice barely a whisper.

  “Aye. And that is why we cannot face them in the same manner we fought the others.”

  “I see that now.”

  Tobin nodded. The night before, when he had met with his most trusted men, Tobin had not only altered his father’s plans, but he also changed how the Kifzo would be used in battle. As Warleader, Kaz had always been the one to lead the Kifzo into battle from the front line while the rest of the army came in as support. Tobin knew such a strategy would not work today. Against these odds, he decided to spread the Kifzo among the main army, making them captains of smaller squads so that their ability would influence the others.

  We need men to hold our lines against their charge, not just the center. If they encircle us, we are done.

  Tobin had decided his role would be much different today as well. He would not lead the charge. Rather, he would survey the battle as it happened and send runners to issue his orders and changes in strategy as the battle developed. Some of the Kifzo had been uncomfortable with changing the role of a Warleader. However, Tobin knew from the look in Walor’s eyes that at least now someone understood his reasons. Tobin wanted the glory in battle that Kaz so often had hoarded for himself, but he had promised his father victory first, and he knew his philosophy bettered their chance at success.

  Tobin assessed his troops. The strongest concentration of his forces, and the most heavily armored, waited at the center. Nearly seven thousand warriors, those most efficient with a spear and shield, stood ready to repel the Yellow Plain Clan’s charge. The right wing consisted of another five thousand soldiers. Without a natural barrier to strengthen their position, Tobin held an additional three thousand light cavalry as a mobile reserve. The Orange Desert Clan warriors’ strength in the saddle made them ideal for the role.

  Ufer did not want to have such a large concentration of the desert warriors in one spot, so Tobin had ordered his strongest Kifzo to act as captains among them. Four thousand archers who could drop their bows and charge as swordsmen at a moment's notice supported the center. His entire heavy cavalry, some four thousand warriors, remained out of sight and he hoped in place.

  “Are you sure of the positioning, Warleader? The left wing, with only three thousand?” asked Walor.

  Tobin cast his gaze to the left, where he had placed his strongest fighters. “Yes. With the stream on one side, the Yellow Plain Clan will have difficulty flanking them. Besides, you will
be there,” said Tobin, grinned. “I know you will hold until reinforcements arrive.”

  Walor twisted his neck until it popped and grinned back. “I better join them then.”

  “We’ll celebrate tonight when this is done,” said Tobin.

  As Walor left, Nachun, in his dark red robes, galloped up beside Tobin.

  “All of the shamans are in place,” said Nachun.

  “I hope your plan works.”

  “It will. Trust me.”

  The clouds of golden dust began to settle as did the Yellow Plain Clan riders, though their horses continued to shuffle in disordered lines.

  They are overconfident with their numbers. If we hold the initial charge, we can take them. It’s the shamans I’m concerned with. But Nachun told me to let him worry about that. Tobin glanced over at the shaman whose face was expressionless. How can he be so calm while I can’t stop worrying over everything that can go wrong?

  * * *

  The reverberation of cicadas hiding in the tall grass and meadowlarks chirping from trees bordering the stream filled the air. The neighing of impatient mounts and the clanking armor of fidgeting soldiers joined them.

  In that uneasy calm, memories from the night before came to him. I have so much to lose now. She actually said she loves me. Such a revelation would obviously change their relationship. She can no longer be considered a prisoner. No, not anymore. I will have to tell Father, when we speak of Mawkuk again. He sighed. What am I doing thinking about that now? I have to survive today first. How did Kaz do this, knowing Lucia was home waiting for him? He shook his head. Probably never even crossed his mind.

  “It begins,” said Nachun, pointing.

  Tobin followed Nachun’s hand and saw a furious swaying in the tall grass, as if a sudden gust had come in. But the air remained still. “What is that?”

  “Wolves. Hundreds of them. Perhaps more. They’re meant to distract and cause disorder amongst our ranks. Their shamans are well attuned to the land.”