The head trainer called for others to carry away the wounded.
“Warleader, do you wish to spar another round?”
Tobin scanned the sea of onlookers—Kifzo who regarded him with awe, fear, and respect. None of those faces haunted his dreams.
A Kifzo needs to know when not to attack as much as he needs to know when to attack.
Tobin could still hear the voice of his Uncle Cef. “No. I’m done for the day.”
He walked off.
* * *
Tobin poured the water down Odala’s throat. Seconds later the dagger plunged into her gut. He raked the blade upward, and her insides spilled to the ground. He looked down at his bloody hands. . . .
Tobin stood atop a rise on the battlefield shouting defiantly at Charu. He held his enemy’s lover, Melat, by her arm. He pulled the woman in close, kissed her roughly, and plunged a knife into her chest. The echoing sound of battle faded. . . .
Looking down, a young woman lay still on the stone floor. Her neck appeared bent. A sickening knot formed in his gut. He knew the woman. . . .
* * *
“Mother!”
Tobin woke screaming in his room. He sat up, chest heaving, panic-stricken.
His head fell into his hands. Fingers rubbed at his tired eyes. They came away wet with tears.
Tobin slammed his fists onto the bed in frustration. He walked across the room to the window. Sheets of rain cascaded over Juanoq in an otherwise dead night. He breathed a sigh, thankful that the storm had masked his scream.
Not like it matters. Not like anyone who can hear me hasn’t heard me on any of the other nights when rain did not fall.
Nightmares had plagued Tobin for as far back as he could remember. The guilt over his actions in the last campaign weighed on him unlike any of the harsh memories he bore while under the command of his brother.
Because I cannot blame my actions on Kaz. And though Nachun said that Soyjid affected my mind, it would be too easy to put the blame entirely on him.
He chuckled bitterly.
Can I really trust anything Nachun ever told me? For all I know, every bad decision I’ve made, every regret I have, has been mine alone. Is that why you haunt me Odala? You knew I really was an awful person after all. And Melat? Do you enter my dreams to rub in the fact that I will never be the leader I felt I could be.
Tobin sunk to his knees at the thought, clinging to the windowsill as he did. The tips of his fingers dug into the stone until his knuckles ached. And then he relaxed.
But what does any of that have to do with you, mother? Why do you come to me? Over two decades have passed since your death, and only now can I see your face. Yet it tells me nothing.
He rose to his feet. He had to learn the truth.
The subject of his mother, especially those events surrounding her death had been topics that no one had dared discuss as he grew. Tobin knew his father had loved her, but Bazraki never spoke her name, lashing out at anyone who did. Kaz hadn’t been any better.
Tobin recalled a time as boys when he had asked Kaz about their mother.
His only answer had been his fists.
Over time, he learned to accept that his mother would always be a mystery to him for everyone feared what Bazraki would do if his father discovered their whisperings.
But Father and Kaz are dead. No one can stop me from pursuing the truth now.
Starting tomorrow morning, he would learn who his mother had been and why she haunted his dreams.
Tobin dressed and left his room. When his nightmares were at their worst, he took to walking the palace.
Cooks, aides, servants, and the like slept. The only sound came from the occasional guard patrolling the palace’s perimeter, armor clinking as footsteps met cobbled stone.
Tobin wandered around the expansive hallways and winding corridors for over an hour. He had almost managed to clear his head when he came to a halt. He had drifted to a part of the palace he had not visited in some time.
Not since the night Kaz disappeared.
As if his body acted on its own, he descended the staircase, drifting over to a nearby room where he had killed two men and wrestled with a third.
All in an attempt to save Kaz.
Tobin chuckled at the irony.
It all began that night. I placed the friendship of a man I barely knew over my clan, my fellow Kifzo, and my family.
And I lied to Lucia.
He left the room, walking back to his quarters.
It’s no wonder that she wants nothing to do with me.
Tobin had tried to speak with Lucia several times since she had turned him down, but she found excuses to turn him away. Knowing his efforts were futile, Tobin stopped trying to meet with her.
For one night she was mine. One night I truly had everything I ever wanted.
* * *
To his surprise, Tobin managed to fall asleep again. The rain stopped while he slept, and he awoke to the beginnings of a humid day.
He formulated a plan as he quickly dressed and made his way downstairs to the kitchen. Pots bubbled and pans sizzled. The smells of pastries baking sent his stomach rolling.
A plate of eggs and fresh bread waited for him. He gobbled the meal down without speaking, focusing instead on scribbling half a dozen names he managed to recall.
He studied the names. Men he had not seen since his youth.
At least it’s a starting point.
After finishing his meal, Tobin exited the palace. He strode through the gardens on his way to the outer gate. Workers sweated while tending to the exotic plants. They bowed in respect as he passed. The guards at the gate saluted him.
Some found it odd that the ruler of an empire walked the streets of his city alone. However, Tobin found it distasteful to travel with a retinue of guards as his father once did.
Walking Juanoq’s cobbled roads, Tobin saw evidence of the previous night’s storm everywhere. Water gushed downhill into drains. Puddles formed within small dips in the sidewalks.
The elaborate designs on the buildings flanking the main thoroughfare reflected the morning sun, causing passersby to shield their vision from the glare. Clean stained-glass windows adorning the wealthier homes looked newly hung.
Tobin headed toward Juanoq’s center where two large towers housing the City Watch stood as silent guardians over the city.
He rapped his knuckles on one tower’s entrance. Several breaths later the door swung open. A sleepy, young guard greeted him.
The guard blinked at Tobin and bowed. “Warleader. What can I do for you?”
“I need to speak with Captain Teznak.”
“Yes, Warleader. Please come in.” He stepped aside.
Tobin scowled as he entered the first level of the tower. A layer of grime covered the tables and chairs while refuse sat piled along the circular walls. He crinkled his nose at the musky smell.
The guard must have seen Tobin’s displeasure. “We’ve been quite busy with our duties, Warleader. I hope you’ll excuse the mess.”
Tobin clenched his jaw.
“Give me a moment, and I’ll make sure he’s ready for you.” The guard gestured. “Please have a seat.”
Tobin eyed the chairs. “I’ll stand.”
“Of course.” The guard leaped up the stairs.
The guard returned much sooner than Tobin expected, running down the stairs so fast he nearly tripped.
“Captain Teznak is ready,” said the guard between breaths. “I can take you to him if—”
“No.” Tobin cut the man off. “I can find him.”
Tobin pushed past the guard, ascending the spiral stairs. He stopped briefly at each landing, just long enough to see their state looked little better than the first. Well past dawn, men snored loudly in their beds. Tobin wondered how many slept from working the night shift and how many from sheer laziness.
His anger swelled with each step.
Since he reorganized the government of Juanoq, the city practic
ally ran itself. Though crime had never been an issue out of fear of his father’s wrath, Tobin realized he had neglected the watch’s role during his rule.
“Warleader! It’s so good to see you this morning.”
The shout came from above as Captain Teznak waited for Tobin at the top of the next landing. His bloodshot eyes darted over Tobin’s expression. He swayed on his feet.
Tobin failed to acknowledge him in any way as he climbed the last several steps and brushed past him into his quarters. Tobin passed the guest chair, and stood behind the simple desk. Teznak waited in the doorway, uncertain.
“Close the door and have a seat, Captain.”
“Yes, of course.”
A moment later Teznak sat in the guest chair while Tobin loomed over him. Tobin let the uncomfortable silence stretch. Only when he saw beads of sweat form on the captain’s forehead did he decide to sit himself. He leaned back in the chair. It groaned under the weight of his thick frame.
“I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything, Warleader.”
Tobin pulled a piece of paper out of his shirt pocket, unfolded it, and handed it to the captain. “Do you recognize any of these names?”
Teznak scanned the list. “I can’t say that I do.”
“I need their addresses. How long will it take to get that information?”
“Perhaps a couple of weeks,” huffed Teznak.
“You have three days.”
“Then I’ll get my best men on it right away.”
“No. The list is for your eyes only.”
Though Tobin no longer had to fear the wrath of his father or Kaz, he didn’t want members of the upper class speculating and gossiping.
The captain ran his hand over his face, rubbing his eyes. “I see. I understand that this must be important to you, but three days isn’t much time.”
“Three days.”
The captain swallowed.
Everything about the captain began to bother Tobin—his appearance, his attitude . . .
“Captain, do you enjoy insulting me?”
Teznak’s eyes widened. “No. Of course not. Not in any way.”
“But you are. The entire state of the tower is an insult to me. Your attitude and demeanor are an insult to me.”
“I apologize, but we’ve been busy with—”
“Everyone knows what the watch has been busy with.” Tobin rose to his feet, kicking the chair out behind him. The captain jumped. “Spending your time in the bathhouses. My father may not have cared since his eyes were focused elsewhere and the work of the watch was done. I’ll admit I fell into that same trap myself.” Tobin leaned forward. “My eyes are on you now. When I leave, you better wake every man, whether they were on duty last night or not, and straighten this place out.”
Teznak dropped his eyes. “Yes, Warleader.”
For some unknown reason, the submissive gesture only angered Tobin more. He grabbed the captain by his shirt, dragging him on top of the desk. He withdrew the knife at his belt, pressing it under Teznak’s chin.
“Also, it’s obvious from your own condition, and that of the guard downstairs, that you have not kept training as you were instructed to. Starting today, your men will resume training with the army on a daily basis. If a man cannot handle that then he does not belong in the watch. If you cannot handle your men, I’ll find someone who will. Is that clear?”
“Y-Yes Warleader.”
* * *
Tobin left the city’s watchtower in a foul mood. He did not doubt that Captain Teznak had deserved to be handled in such a way for his laziness. Yet, Tobin’s anger nearly clouded his thinking once again. It was one thing to kill a man after rationally concluding such a thing to be the best course of action. It was another thing entirely to kill someone in a fit of rage.
Why is it so hard to control myself?
Tobin once considered himself a calm person, someone who thought clearly without his emotions getting the better of him. However, it had become a struggle not to give into his inclinations, to lash out at those who displeased him. He tried to rationalize his actions over the last campaign as being necessary aspects of war. But the nightmares that haunted his dreams made him doubt those claims more each day.
And I’m not on a battlefield now. I’m in my own city.
An image of his mother’s prone form flashed in his mind.
Does it all relate to her?
Tobin lost himself in thought as he traversed the city’s streets. He took a left without thinking. A wall of sound jarred him.
He had no intention of passing through the city’s vast market, but once there, he couldn’t take his eyes off the bustling activity. He stepped to the side, ducking into the shadows of a nearby merchant stall before someone recognized him. Watching the various types of people haggle over prices distracted him from his thoughts.
Tobin could not recall how long he stood in those shadows. Though minutes had probably passed, it seemed more like hours as his mind thought of simpler times when he walked the market as an ordinary Kifzo warrior with Nachun at his side.
He was looking for maps and bits of history even then, already thinking ahead to when he would leave me.
Though Tobin knew that the shaman had used him for his own selfish gain, a part of him still wished Nachun had not left Hesh. A larger part of Tobin wished he could speak with Walor. The Kifzo had been a better friend to him than Nachun ever had.
I could use some advice or at least someone who will listen to my worries with concern. He thought of Walor’s calm, level-headed attitude and the way that other Kifzo seemed at ease around him. Making him my second might be the best decision I ever made. Who else could I ever trust to handle the Red Mountain Clan in my stead? He snorted. Maybe when he returns I should just give him all of Juanoq. He’d likely do a better job than me. Maybe I should just disappear and not worry about hurting anyone ever again.
Tobin exhaled a long breath. His duties would not go away, no matter how long he pushed them aside. He took a step forward, but immediately slid back into the shadows.
Lucia and Jober walked through the market examining the day’s wares. Tobin shouldn’t have been surprised. Lucia had always enjoyed the market.
Absolutely beautiful, he thought while staring at her.
Tobin closed his eyes briefly, recalling every curve of her body. It had been several months since they last spoke. Yet her scent filled his nostrils as if she still lay next to him on the roof of the palace. He opened his eyes as she shifted her stance, giving Tobin a better view of her face. She wore a somber expression. For the briefest of moments, hope filled Tobin’s heart.
Does she miss me? He shook his head. No. It’s Kaz. It’s always him.
He smiled bitterly at the humorless joke. He had gone along with Nachun when the shaman caused his brother to disappear. Nachun assumed that Lucia would eventually accept her husband’s death.
And I was dumb enough to believe him.
He spared one last look at Lucia then left the market.
* * *
Despite the barrage of noise, Jober heard the small gasp to his left. His hand went to the sword at his waist. “Is everything alright?”
Lucia stared toward an alley, near a stand selling various dyes.
Jober touched her arm, repeating the question. “Are you alright?”
She blinked. “Yes. I-I just thought I saw someone.”
“Who?”
“No one. It was nothing.” She took one last look down the alley before renewing her stride.
Jober eyed the area around the dye stand but saw nothing. He fell in quickly behind Lucia, and the two continued walking. He knew that now wasn’t the place to pry, but his concern for Lucia forbade him to wait any longer.
“When are you going to talk to someone?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
Jober ignored the advice of his wife, Hielle, urging him to give Lucia time to herself. “It’s been months since
your anniversary. You haven’t been yourself since. And today, you seem even worse. Not even the market cheers you.”
Lucia looked away, opening her mouth as if to answer his question. She stopped, forcing a smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bring you down. I’ve just felt ill.” Her hand rested briefly on her midsection. “I was actually hoping to find something in the market that might settle my stomach today.”
“Are you sure that’s it?”
She touched his arm. “I’m sure.”
He nodded. “Alright. Let’s go find something for your stomach.”
* * *
Tobin stood in his war room, admiring a map that detailed the lands under his rule. His empire covered all the inhabited lands of Hesh except the White Tundra Clan to the far south. No one knew the size of the White Clan’s populace or their land as they refused to interact with the other clans of Hesh. Even Tobin’s father had not included them in his original plans of conquest. However, Tobin was not his father.
A knock sounded.
“Come in.”
The door cracked open, and a servant peeked inside. “Captain Teznak is here to see you.”
“Send him in.”
The servant bowed and backed out as the captain entered. He had cleaned up considerably since the morning.
“Captain, I didn’t expect to see you so soon. I hope there haven’t been any problems with your assignment.”
“No, Warleader. No problems at all.”
“Are you sure? You look worn.”
The captain tried to smile. “Just a bit sore. I’ve been busy since we last spoke. My men are ahead of schedule at seeing the towers brought back up to standard.”
“Good. But progress reports are unnecessary so long as the work is done when I return.”
“Yes, of course. That’s actually not why I’m here.” The captain pulled loose the sheet of paper Tobin gave him earlier. “I’ve been working on the list.”
“You’ve already located the men?”
“Not all of them. Since it seemed that the names were of great importance to you I thought you might want the information I was able to discover so far.”
“Go ahead.”
Teznak cleared his throat. “Of the six names, three are dead.”
Trial And Glory (Book 3) Page 6