The old man looked defiant.
“Who I was?” Tobin rose, chuckling in a voice that lacked all humor. “What about now?” Tobin’s hand twisted the hilt of the dagger at his belt.
Adosh eyed the weapon carefully and frowned. He looked up. “I occasionally hear stories. But, I live so far away from Juanoq that any news I get has been passed down too often for me to believe much of it. I don’t know who you are now.”
Tobin squeezed the dagger hard. He began to slowly slide it free, but caught himself. No. He slid the blade back and let his hand drop. “No. You don’t.”
He left the clearing. Without looking back, he pushed aside a low hanging branch, and disappeared into the jungle.
Do I?
* * *
Jober dug his fingers into the arms of his chair as Lucia left the room. Despite his many pleas, Lucia still refused to listen to him. She had been trying to contact Tobin for days.
For reasons only Tobin knew, her requests had been denied.
Hielle turned away from the door, scowling in disapproval. “I wish you would talk to me about why you’re so against Lucia telling Tobin.”
“I have.”
“No. You’re holding back. There’s something else besides this childhood belief of Kaz that Tobin killed their mother. I can tell.”
Jober said nothing.
“He’s the child’s father. You can’t stop her from seeing him.” She stood and left Jober alone in the room.
She’s right. Lucia won’t ever give up.
“Eventually my belly will be so big he’ll have to see me. If nothing else, out of curiosity,” she had said.
I let Kaz down by not saving him. I won’t do it again by letting the brother he hated have his wife.
He walked over to his children’s room. Peeking inside, he watched them sleep. Jober closed the door and moved to his room. He stopped before touching the door handle.
Hielle won’t understand. There’s only one way to help Lucia and ensure no harm comes to my family.
Jober left his quarters.
* * *
Tobin entered the palace grounds, limbs heavy with fatigue. He had barely rested on his way home. When he had, sleep failed him. He could not shake the details of his mother’s death. Thinking of the atrocities he had committed in his life, he wondered if he could have done something as awful as kill his own mother.
He considered the good he had tried to do as a Kifzo despite ridicule from others. He thought of his recent work in the Old District.
How can I do something so evil, yet still desire to do good?
He balled his hands into fists.
My mind truly is a mess.
Palace guards on the night shift saluted Tobin as he walked through the gardens and into the palace. As he made his way toward his personal quarters, he began to loosen his armor. He froze in the hallway.
I cannot forget my past. The dreams I have prove that. But in the days before leaving Juanoq to seek Adosh, I learned that I can ignore it. Belin told me how great a woman my mother was. Why not remember her as that and nothing more? I might have been an awful child, but Kaz was no better as a teenager or an adult. We both made our mistakes.
I need to avoid making more.
Tobin continued down the hall, walking lighter on his heels.
* * *
Jober held his breath as the door to Tobin’s bedroom opened. He had snuck in hours before, hiding behind a curtain near a closed window. Though it had been years since Jober’s training as a Kifzo, he still remembered the lessons of stealth Cef had taught him.
He peaked through a slit in the curtain as Tobin entered carrying a bag he dropped near a table, then closed the door.
Jober cursed inwardly. He hadn’t expected to see Tobin armed and armored.
Patience.
He relaxed as Tobin stripped away weapons, light mail, and boiled leather. The warleader moved in a daze, mind seemingly elsewhere. He presented his back to Jober while reaching for a bowl of nuts. A crunch followed. Jober wanted to act then, but knew better.
The distance is still too great.
Jober forced himself to take slow, shallow breaths so he would not draw attention. Tobin moved over to a nearby desk where several stacks of documents sat. Tobin made a face at one or two, mumbled to himself, and then set them aside. After much deliberation, he grabbed one to read. A smile took shape.
Probably some news on the next village he plans to slaughter.
Tobin placed the letter back on his desk and walked to the other side of the window from where Jober waited. A pitcher of water rested on top of a table near a large basin. Tobin finished undressing, poured some of the water into the basin, and began to wash himself.
Jober’s hand moved to the dagger at his waist. He unsheathed the blade.
It’s now or never.
Using his free hand to throw aside the curtain, Jober lunged toward his target. Water ran down Tobin’s face as he turned toward the movement. Jober gazed into those eyes and lunged. He focused all the hate he held for Tobin into that thrust.
The blade bit into flesh.
Tobin had shifted his body so that the dagger missed his chest and tore into his upper arm. He yelled in pain, flinging the bowl of water up, its contents soaking Jober. Slick with water, he lost his grip on Tobin. Jober ripped his dagger free.
Jober took two steps backward to clear his vision of the cool water. Tobin held a piece of loose flesh against his injured arm—blood running through his fingers.
Jober crouched while Tobin shifted to the left. He moved to cut him off, realizing Tobin’s weapons rested on a table only a few steps away.
Tobin managed to speak in a controlled voice. “Why are you doing this?”
“You know why. You killed Kaz.”
“Nachun killed Kaz. Not me.”
Jober snorted. “Like you never wanted to do so yourself. You allowed Nachun to get away with it. That makes you just as guilty.”
“I’m no more guilty than you. You’ve said nothing all this time.”
“Nachun threatened my family,” snapped Jober.
“So what changed for you to risk their lives now? You know what I’m capable of.”
“I do. But it doesn’t matter. You won’t live long enough to harm them.”
And maybe that will atone for my lies to Lucia and Hielle.
Jober adjusted the grip of his blade as he watched Tobin’s muscles coil.
He’s ready to make his move.
The door burst open. Jober glanced over as guards rushed in. Tobin leaped toward his weapons. Jober's chest tightened in panic.
No. I can’t fail.
He ignored the guards entering the room and followed after Tobin. The warleader managed to grab one of his throwing axes. With it, he caught the blade of Jober’s dagger as it descended. Jober’s other hand shot out, punching the bloody flesh of Tobin’s injured arm. Tobin howled.
Jober twisted his blade free and sliced downward. Tobin managed to avoid the worst of the attack as the blade raked across his chest. Tobin’s head came forward, crunching into the bridge of Jober’s nose.
Flashes of color danced before Jober’s eyes. Hands latched onto his limbs, dragging him to the ground.
Not again. I can’t have failed again.
He blinked and the pain subsided. Tobin looked down on him while holding his wounded arm.
“Do you want to kill him now, Warleader?” asked one of the guards.
“No.”
“What about his family?” asked the other. “Should we grab them as well?”
Tobin did not answer immediately. He simply stared at Jober, nostrils flaring with each breath.
Hielle, I doomed you and the children. What was I thinking?
Jober shuddered as he thought about what Tobin would do to his family.
“No,” said Tobin.
Jober’s eyes widened.
“What do we do with him?” asked the first guard again.
&
nbsp; “Put him in the dungeons. I’ll see to him shortly.”
Tobin turned away as the guards yanked Jober to his feet.
* * *
Jober’s head dropped to his chest. He jerked awake. Tobin stood on the other side of the cell door. He rubbed his eyes while rising to his feet. He hadn’t heard him arrive.
If not for the fresh bandage on Tobin’s arm or the beads of sweat on his forehead, Jober might have thought the motionless warleader a dream.
Jober stepped into the torchlight. “Here to kill me?”
“With so much to lose, you seem a man eager to die.”
“Now that Nachun is gone, the only death I’m eager to see is yours.”
“I remember now. You and Kaz were close as boys. It’s guilt. You can’t shake the burden of knowing you betrayed him.”
Jober hung his head in shame.
“Have you told anyone what happened? Your wife?”
“No.”
“Lucia?”
“No,” whispered Jober. Though I’ve wanted to every day. “I haven’t told anyone.”
“At least your guilt hasn’t caused you to lose all of your good sense. Why do you hate me? It can’t be because of that one night.”
“Because Kaz told me what kind of person you really are.” Jober immediately regretted his choice of words.
“What kind of person did he say I am?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Don’t lie to me,” snapped Tobin. “You believed him. It has to matter.”
“He said that you killed your mother out of hate.”
Jober was surprised to see no reaction in Tobin’s face from the news.
“Did he say how?”
“No. A servant heard us talking about it before Kaz could say more.”
Tobin snorted. “Of course that’s all you know. No one knows anything.”
“I don’t understand.”
Tobin stepped up to the bars. “You said you know what kind of person I am? Maybe you do. But don’t act like you’re better than me.” He gestured to the cell. “Anyway, this is your home. Get comfortable. I won’t kill you, but that doesn’t mean you deserve to live a normal life. I’ve given you that chance already and you wasted it. As far as your family goes, they will be cared for.”
Jober blinked in surprise. He will care for them? Is this some sort of trap?
Tobin walked away.
Chapter 16
Krytien never thought that waking up could be so painful. He tried to open his eyes, but his lids stuck together as if someone had poured honey on his face and let it dry. He went to raise a hand to help his eyelids along, but his arm felt as though it weighed as much as a horse.
Dim torchlight pierced the narrow slits he finally managed to create. The glare made him aware of a pounding headache. Familiar groans of the injured added to the throbbing in his skull.
The infirmary. One Above, I’m alive. And I’m being cared for. That means—
His eyes widened. He tried to shift his body into a more comfortable position. Skin felt tight around his limbs. He winced just as a hand reached his chest. Drake’s face came into view.
“Take it easy. You’ve been through a lot. Wiqua didn’t expect you to come around until tomorrow. Can I get you anything?”
“Water,” he croaked.
Drake raised a skin to his lips. Krytien drank deeply, drops dribbling down his chin. He sighed when the boy pulled the water away.
“What happened?”
Drake wore a tired smile. “You won. We won, actually.”
“Nareash?”
“Practically disintegrated. All that was left were charred bones and a hand size square of red robes we found in your fist.”
One Above, I did it.
The mention of robes made Krytien aware of his own state. He looked down, realizing he lay naked beneath thin sheets. Bandages wrapped his torso, arms, and most of his legs.
Drake continued as if reading his thoughts, voice solemn. “You weren’t in very good shape when we found you. You were at the bottom of a valley. All the rock and earth had been scorched black. Your robes were gone. Burns over most of your body. Wiqua said he was surprised it wasn’t worse.”
“I managed a small healing spell before I passed out.” He paused. “How did you find me?”
“We followed the smoke. Still took us a day and a half. It would have taken longer, but Raker threatened everyone’s life if they dared to stop for rest.”
A thin smile formed on Krytien’s lips. How could Nareash ever think he could offer me anything that might compete with friendship like that? “Where is he?”
“Asleep, probably. He didn’t want to admit it, but the hike wore him out. I told him I would sit with you until he got up.”
“Thank you.” He cleared his throat, changing subjects before he started bawling. “What about the rest of the enemy?”
“Most of the army is scattered. Many lost their nerve when the battle between you and Nareash really got going. Kaz took advantage of the moment. He led the Kifzo through the killing ground and retook the outer wall. About two-thirds had enough and fled.”
“The rest?”
“They stayed on with the man who assumed leadership. Kaz wanted to march on their camp and wipe the whole army out, but Elyse forbade it. She didn’t want to risk more of our lives after we regained the better position. She seems anxious to get back home. Kaz, Jeldor, and she are working out a peace treaty with the new leader now.”
Krytien noticed something odd about Drake’s manner as he recalled the ending of the siege. “Who’s the leader?”
The boy looked away. “I’m not supposed to say.”
Krytien grabbed his arm. “Tell me.”
Drake sighed. “Hezen.”
Hot anger washed over him as he connected the name with one of the darkest times in the Hell Patrol’s existence. “Hezen! He betrayed us. Almost wiped us out. Because of him, Ronav died! He—”
“They know who he is,” said Raker walking up. “I see you’re feeling better.”
Krytien ignored the last comment. “What do you mean they know who he is? Who knows?”
“Kaz and Elyse. Those who matter. Yanasi reminded them when we went searching for you.”
Krytien fought back tears as he thought of the Hell Patrol’s original commander. Ronav had been one of his closest friends. “They know what we went through and they’re still making peace with him?”
Raker spat. “Yeah, I know. It stinks. The man should be strung up and hung. I tried to talk to Kaz myself when I got back since it seemed he didn’t understand what that piece of garbage was responsible for.”
“And?”
“He said the call was Elyse’s and that we should trust her.”
“What does that mean?”
Raker shrugged. “You got me. He said that some things are necessary, but in the end it would all work out.”
Krytien started to rise, grimacing in pain. “This isn’t right. I need to—”
Raker pushed him back down. “You need to rest. I know it doesn’t seem right, but considering all that Kaz has done for us, we gotta give him this one.”
“What if you don’t like what happens?” asked Drake, speaking the question Krytien had been thinking.
“Well, I reckon we’d have to change that.”
* * *
Kroke turned away from the damp towel pressed against his forehead. He loathed to be waited on, regardless of the circumstances. “Enough, Yanasi. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” she hissed. “Now, lie still.”
“Just listen to her,” said Rygar. “You’re in no position to argue.” He nodded to Kroke’s stomach.
Kroke followed the path of the scout’s gaze. Thick white bandages wrapped his torso. Two spots of blood had seeped through.
“We’ll change those next,” said Yanasi. “Rygar, please go get some fresh bandages.”
The scout left without a word.
&
nbsp; Kroke leaned his head back, letting Yanasi wipe the sweat from his brow. He hated to admit the cool towel felt good against his skin. “Why are you doing that? Wiqua’s got people working here who can look after me.”
“And they’re all overworked and exhausted. I know how to dress a wound.”
“You should be with your men.”
“They know what needs doing. I need to be here with you.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think? You nearly died saving me and Rygar. I thought I lost you too. Wiqua got you through the worst, and I’m determined to see you through the rest. It’s the least I can do.” She paused. “Why did you do it anyway? No offense, but throwing your body in front of spears has never been your approach to that sort of situation.”
“That was my only option.”
“But you could have died.”
“I thought I was going to. C’mon Yanasi, isn’t that what we do for each other? You told me Raker nearly killed himself from exhaustion when he went running off to fetch Krytien. Most wouldn’t have expected him to do that either. We’re friends.” He paused, and added with a whisper. “Family.”
* * *
“Your Majesty, I can’t commend you enough on understanding the uniqueness of the situation I found myself in. As I’m sure you can attest, the late High Mage was quite effective in influencing the actions of others.” Hezen paused. “It speaks volumes of your character to see the benefit of us moving on from this incident so that we can turn our attention back to our respective lands.”
Incident? Tens of thousands are dead on both sides. I’d hardly call that an incident.
Elyse took a deep breath, calming her building anger. It wasn’t the first time she had been forced to steady herself in the presence of the vile man.
Almost done.
Hezen tried to offer a warm smile, but failed. Elyse thought the burn scars turned any expression he tried to make into something far more sinister.
“Yes, well if everything is in order, let’s finalize our talks,” she said.
Elyse dipped her quill in ink and scratched her signature over the documents, adding it to Hezen’s and the agreed upon witnesses. She dripped heated wax over the parchment, and applied her seal to both copies.
“I believe that should do it,” she continued, rising to her feet.
Trial And Glory (Book 3) Page 20