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Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3

Page 123

by Mark E. Cooper


  “Be still you fool!” Keppel hissed as Nisim’s head broached the surface.

  “I’ll kill you, you bastard!” he hissed in fury trying to throw off Keppel’s grip.

  “Shut up!” Keppel snarled dragging him close to the bank unaffected by his struggles.

  Nisim went still at the sound of galloping horses passing close by. They pressed themselves flat and waited for their pursuers to find them. He prayed he might survive long enough to make Keppel pay, but he was fooling himself. Keppel was Keppel. The man could kill anything that moved just by glaring at it! Nisim couldn’t get the fight at the camp out of his head. One touch had been enough for Keppel to put a man down; he had made it look easy! No, he had no chance against him, but if he survived he could make sure their paths never crossed again.

  Candlemarks seemed to pass but still the soldiers searched. Keppel was intent upon his view through the rushes. Nisim thought he might escape by floating down river. Before he could move Keppel’s hand became a clamp upon his arm.

  “Do that and I will kill you,” Keppel hissed.

  “Do what?”

  Keppel looked him in the eyes then away again.

  The man could read his mind! He rubbed circulation back into his arm and glared trying to pretend he wasn’t scared. Finally, there was silence from the forest and Nisim thought they would move on, but Keppel stayed still. He was freezing and his teeth chattered, but at another glare from Keppel he bit a knuckle to stop the sound betraying them. What were they were waiting for?

  They lay silently watching and listening to the night. An owl hooted startling him, but the assassin took no notice. He was one with the night.

  Nisim drowsed. Trying to stop himself was pointless. The images that came to him made his sleep far from restful. Talitha came to him, but far from his usual fantasies, he was harrowed with her weeping and screaming at him that he had killed her love. He heard again Ranen’s words that he was to be a father, and then the dumbfounded look at the dagger in his chest.

  “Hsst! Wake Nisim.”

  He jerked awake. Keppel pointed downriver. At first he was unable to see what Keppel was worried about, but then he heard it. The cavalry was coming back. Nisim nodded and hunkered down to wait. It was a good thing he hadn’t tried to float down river earlier. He would probably have been dead by now. In a way, he owed Keppel his life, but he didn’t like the thought and dismissed it almost as soon as it occurred to him.

  The soldiers charged by faster than before. They were obviously no longer searching but were instead returning to camp empty handed. Keppel signalled for silence and pointed to Nisim once then twice. He nodded and moved silently to his right while Keppel did likewise to the left. Nisim stopped when he found a good place and waited. He could just see Keppel and would go when he did. He would have gone any number of times but each time Keppel stayed still and more soldiers filed by. Three times Nisim was on the verge of going and only held back at the last because of Keppel’s lack of movement. When the time finally did come, he was almost taken by surprise.

  A small group of cavalry, six in number rode along the riverbank. Perhaps stragglers or perhaps they were scouts of some sort. Whatever the reason for their late passage, it became obvious that this was what Keppel had been waiting for. He jumped up and killed two men with thrown daggers before the rest reacted. Nisim burst from cover startling the horses. They reared and dumped their riders. He broke the neck of one man as he struggled to rise and then killed the other after a short exchange of thrust and parry. As Nisim’s second man fell, Keppel was finishing his fourth and final adversary.

  “Drag them into the river.”

  He did as he was bid. He rolled three men over the edge and watched the bodies sink with the weight of their armour. Keppel was doing likewise and it wasn’t long before they were riding away with spare horses trailing behind them. They rode directly away from the Japuran camp for perhaps a full candlemark before turning towards Malim. They needed to get to the city before Ranen’s army under some new leader attacked it and cut them off.

  “Why am I here?” he asked when he was sure that it was safe.

  “Don’t you think it’s a little late for this?” Keppel said eyeing him sideways.

  “No. I want to know why you chose me to come with you when I did nothing to help.”

  “You weren’t with me to help. I brought you here so I could be sure.”

  “Sure?” Nisim said in confusion. “Sure of what?”

  “Sure that you were not a threat of course.”

  “A threat! That’s ridiculous!”

  “Not at all,” Keppel said coldly. “You may say that your friend Joz is the leader of your people, but you’re not fooling anybody by saying so. I’ve been watching you and those around you.”

  “And?”

  “And I see a popular leader who says one thing and does another. You say you do not lead, but everyone does what you say. You say Joz leads, yet he comes to you before making a decision. Even Terriss speaks to you before doing anything that affects your half of his people—not Joz, you. Popular leaders are dangerous. I wanted to be sure you do not threaten Vexin or his chances to win this war.”

  He shook his head in amazed silence. Yes, people did come to him, but he didn’t order them to do anything. All he did was listen to them and help them to decide what they had already halfway decided to do anyway. And Joz was the true leader—he was! So what if Joz came to ask advice? Friends do that all the time!

  “And then there is the matter of your birth,” Keppel went on. “You’re Japuran in your heart still. Don’t try to deny it. I saw that your loyalties were uncertain—split between Japura and your Borderer friends. That’s no longer of concern; you helped me kill Matriarch Talitha’s consort. You can never go back to Japura. Never.”

  Keppel was right, but then he had always known he would never go back. He was a free man now. He would rather die than be a slave again.

  “What are you going to do with me?”

  “You’re still breathing are you not?”

  Nisim sighed in relief. There was that wasn’t there?

  * * *

  18 ~ Unlikely Soldier

  “How do I look?” Lord Vivika asked.

  Methrym had never seen such an unlikely looking soldier in his life. Vivika had taken his new confidence to extremes this time. The lord of Malim was wearing full armour complete with sword on his hip and shield upon his arm. It wasn’t that Vivika was a slight man, he wasn’t, it was just that Methrym had never seen him wearing armour before and knew he did not know how to use a sword.

  “You look very… soldierly?” he said lamely.

  “I do don’t I?” Vivika said grinning. “You know, I think I’ll learn how to use this,” he said patting the sword. “It was my father’s you know. It was handed down through my family all the way back to the first Malim emperor.”

  “May I ask why you’re wearing armour?”

  “Why… I thought that was obvious. I’ll be leading my men through the gates tomorrow.”

  An inexperienced man like Vivika could screw the plan so thoroughly that nothing would save it! “I don’t think… and then there’s… you did say you didn’t know… You can’t!” he babbled.

  Vivika laughed. “Certainly I can. Oh don’t worry about me, my friend. It’s good of you to show such concern but I’ll be fine. My captain’s know the plan as well as I do. When we see the Japurans all I have to do is say: By the God where did all that lot come from! Then all I do is gallop back inside. See?”

  He grinned weakly. “Ah, yes I suppose… so.”

  The next day Methrym was cursing himself for letting the lord do it. What if he screwed up? There was nothing to do but wait and watch, but he could not get the thought out of his head that he had made a mistake. He should have locked Vivika in his room rather than let him do this.

  The Japurans were on the way to destroy Tanjung Malim, or so they thought. Terriss and his people including the who
res were hidden throughout the city just waiting to take what the Japurans owed in blood. Lorenz and Soren were to the east and west hidden in the forest with a third of the army each, and lastly Methrym had the final third waiting to close the trap once the Japurans crossed the river and its bridge. He couldn’t fault his planning, which made him look even harder, but he still thought it would work. Soren and Lorenz both agreed but he couldn’t help wondering.

  Keppel and Nisim had returned a few days ago. Neither man would speak about what had gone on between them but it was obvious Nisim was upset. Perhaps Keppel had killed someone he knew or perhaps it was something completely different. Whatever it was, Keppel had gone back to Tanjor to report to Vexin, and Nisim… well he was in the city somewhere. Whether he would fight no one knew. There was an anger in that boy that was frightening. It wasn’t aimed at the Japurans, and anger aimed at Keppel was pointless of course. If he was to guess, he would say Nisim was angry with himself more than anything.

  The first indication Methrym had that the enemy was near was the sighting of mounted scouts. He watched from his concealment praying that they would not become suspicious. The city was quiet. Maybe too quiet? No, the scouts were coming on. He was pleased when all they did was send one of their number back to report. It indicated their lack of concern. If they had ridden close enough to the river to see the bridge they might not have been so happy. He hoped none of his men were ever as lax as these scouts, if he found any they would wish they had never been born.

  “Get ready,” he whispered and heard the order relayed down the line.

  He was freezing. The water of the river even in spring was cold and he’d been lying in it with just his head showing for candlemarks. He prayed to the God yet again that Vivika would follow the plan, but then it was too late for worry as Japuran cavalry reinforced the scouts. They couldn’t be as good as Wakiza’s men he reassured himself. They were lancers drawn from the limited manpower each prince had at his disposal. Domain lords would follow the cavalry with their far more numerous infantry. Numerous they might be, but they had never fought against Borderers with their blood up. He couldn’t wait to see their faces when the city rose up before them!

  The cavalry came on and crossed the bridge before arraying itself for battle. They couldn’t know that Vivika would open the gate and invite them in, but they weren’t taking chances. They sat their horses ready for anything—anything but what they would actually receive. Methrym hoped so at least.

  He ducked under the water as the infantry began to cross. This was the most dangerous stage. Men on foot had less to occupy their attention and might well spot something they shouldn’t. Methrym had told his men this morning that if drowning was the only other choice they had to alerting the Japurans, they had better drown! The sound of the Japuran’s passage over the bridge was muted by the water, and he was beginning to wonder if he would be here all day when he felt a tap upon his boot.

  Upon surfacing, he surveyed the bridge. It was empty. “Pull out the last few pins then light the oil. If they do try to run before it burns it should still collapse.”

  “Right.”

  Where was Vivika? He should have ridden out by now and—here he came now. Methrym watched in admiration as Vivika rode out and formed his men as if to charge the enemy. It looked perfect, totally real as if—no! The fool was charging! He watched in horror as a thousand heavy cavalry with Vivika in the forefront charged and slammed into twenty times their number. The gates behind Vivika were still open, but most of his attention was on the one sided fight. Prince Ranen it seemed was contemptuous of the threat. He assumed the figure was Ranen, who else would it be? Ranen waved only a tenth part of his cavalry forward to destroy Vivika, but even as he did, Lord Malim shouted to his men to flee. As one, Vivika’s cavalry wheeled on the spot and charged back through the gates with Japuran lancers in pursuit. Whether Ranen had ordered it, or whether his men had seen an opportunity and grasped it, Methrym would never know. He watched as the Japuran cavalry broke ranks and charged into the seemingly vulnerable city.

  “I don’t believe it. The bastard actually did it!”

  “The bridge is done for sir.”

  “Good, get the men ready. As soon as Soren and Lorenz attack, I want our lot to hit the princes—just there see it?” Methrym pointed to a group of men on horseback that he thought were Ranen’s captains.

  Unlike Tanjung, Japuran nobles seldom fought. They were the type to lead from the rear. With the bridge gone Methrym had made sure they would pay as much as their men this time. If it worked, Japura would be without the cream of its nobles from now on. That should hinder Talitha’s efforts against Vexin and no mistake.

  Methrym could hear the roar of battle coming from the city even from here. Soren and Lorenz finally saw the smoke coming from the bridge and attacked the infantry on its open and vulnerable sides. Already the Japurans were reeling in confusion as the infantry tried to change front to meet the attacks. Some formations were better than others, but thank the God they were few. The majority were being rolled up and compacted into the centre.

  “It’s time,” he said as he struggled up the riverbank.

  * * *

  Nisim sat slumped in silence thinking about his life. Outside the small house he heard the galloping of horses and the clash of swords. It did not matter. They didn’t need him for this fight; no one needed him except perhaps Leona, but he could not give her what she deserved.

  One thing about freedom he had not anticipated was time to think. Leona would say time to waste. She had the proper attitude for a slave and had not lost it since gaining her freedom. She lived in the now, lived the best she could for as long as she could and did not concern herself with tomorrow. As a slave, tomorrow might bring literally anything. It might be good, but it was more likely to be bad. A slave might live all his life owned by one man, a merchant let’s say, then a day like any other arrives and suddenly everything changes and he is sold to the palace. Time to think had been in short supply. Back then the only time he had spare was for sleeping. Living in the palace had been so different from working in the warehouses that he had actually been grateful to Jarek for buying him. Grateful to be a slave! Sometimes he still felt that being a slave was better, but better or not it was certainly easier. No making decisions back then. All he need do was stand where he was told when he was told and do only what he was told. Decisions were the worst part about being free—like deciding to help Keppel. His luck at making decisions was terrible.

  He closed his eyes in anguish and tried to will away all thought, but the smell of smoke brought that night in Talayan back. He had gone over that night many times. It had seemed right to kill Mireya for what she had done, but that had led directly to his escape and later to his murder of prince Ranen. How many had he killed now? Dozens. It was at least dozens. He wasn’t what Keppel said he was, he wasn’t an assassin and he wasn’t a leader. He wasn’t even a soldier! He knew what he wasn’t, but what was he? Squeezing his eyes shut he tried to eradicate the memory of Ranen dying before his eyes. I am to be a father my friend, Ranen had said, and Nisim had killed him. He hadn’t held the weapon, but he was still responsible. He should have tried to stop Keppel; he should have tried!

  “The God made the Matriarch perfect. She rules us by his will,” Nisim whispered.

  I killed the Matriarch’s chosen consort!

  A scream made him jump up and draw his dagger. He was panting with fright, but gradually his breathing slowed and he took control of himself. He took a deep breath then quietly made his way to the window and looked outside. A dead Japuran lancer lay upon the ground. Further along the street were a great many more lancers fighting for their lives. They were fighting against a group of Borderers. Nisim bit his lip in indecision. He could not go back to Japura even if there was a way to hide his brand and blend in—not after everything he had done, but did that mean he had to be a Borderer and kill his own people? There were other places. Deva for one, and they didn’t
have slavery. That was very attractive right now. But these people had befriended him. He couldn’t let them down.

  He drew his sword and ran up behind the line of cavalry. At the last moment he jumped and swung his sword to take the man on his right out of the saddle. As Terriss had trained him to do, he finished the job with a dagger-thrust at the base of the skull before defending himself from one of the man’s comrades. He was soon lost in the madness of battle and only came back to himself when he ran out of targets.

  “I’ve never seen a better man in a fight!” Dreng said in wonder. “You should lead us now you’re here, Nisim. We’re supposed to be closing the route to the south gate. Will you lead?”

  He groaned. He had made the wrong choice again, every decision he made led to another, each one worse than the last. The God must be laughing at him, or guiding him?

  “I will lead you,” Nisim said in defeat. “Let us go.”

  A goodly portion of the city was burning, but unlike Talayan it was not by any means out of control. Terriss had arranged some of the fires to hem in the enemy so they would be unable to retreat once attacked. Other fires were probably the result of over enthusiastic lancers. They had not realised that setting fires before the battle was won was a bad idea. Now as the city burned, many of the lancers did also, trapped by their own stupidity.

  “Dreng, take a third part of our force down that alley, and hit them from behind,” Nisim said and Dreng waved a group of people to follow him. Nisim’s eyes fell on a familiar Japuran face. “Nerina, can you do the same on the right?”

  Nerina had been a whore like him, but unlike him she had taken to the soldier’s life with glee. She was a strong fighter and he was sure she would do her part. She grinned fiercely and waved her group to the right and down the alley.

 

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