The Dark Disciple (The Daybreak Saga Book 2)

by Dan Neil

  Scipion had never seen so many new faces. Prince Logan was generous, indeed.

  It was certainly not sufficient to defeat Lord Mornwas, but it would do against Anton Day’s ilk. Scipion took heart seeing Douglas, Denna, Zel Yano, and the rest of his troupe mixed in with the fresh soldiers. Scipion was particularly curious about the mages; he remembered street shows in Sophegion but had yet to see magic in combat.

  They were given five hundred food and water spellstones to be shared. Scipion realized the importance of protecting his supplies; running out of food was a death sentence in enemy territory.

  Scipion’s brow furrowed as he looked over his army.

  Anton Day has to have regrouped by now. He’ll have what remains of his New Dawn fighters. Hopefully, what we have will be enough.

  He had faith in his army. However small, it was much larger and more diverse than he’d ever commanded. He mounted Eritar and turned to see Prince Logan waiting to see him off. The other Oathsworn surrounded him while the villagers from Green Creek stood to the side.

  “Ride true, Scipion.” Prince Logan smiled, but it was hollow. “May the old gods be with you.”

  Scipion nodded. “Either that, or I will be with them.” The king’s expression became stern. “I will not fail you, my king.”

  “I have faith that you will not.”

  Scipion nodded and watched as Lady Anasia helped Matalo to his horse. He had recovered by now, but she still fussed over him—mainly because he still clamored about pains and aches to keep her attention. He mounted with a moan and turned to his friend.

  “Ho, Scipion. Are you ready?”

  “Ho, Matalo. The question is, are you ready?”

  Matalo smiled. “I was made ready for this.”

  He turned to Lady Anasia, whose eyes were both sad and hopeful at once.

  She gave a half-smile. “You’re riding off into the sunset.”

  “Yes, I suppose so—just like every other fool who thinks he can save this land.”

  She took his hand. “In a weird way, I think I might actually miss you—just a little. It’s been nice to have someone to talk to about all of this.”

  Matalo returned a grin. “You’ll have to tell me everything I’ve missed when I return.”

  She squeezed his hand and let go. Then she whispered, “Please do come back, Matalo.”

  Scipion faced his soldiers. “Form up! Form up!” Everyone shuffled into some semblance of order and stood at attention. He continued, “I am Scipion Gannala the Second, and I’ll be leading this expedition. Our objective is to capture or kill Anton Day of New Dawn. He’s surrounded by loyal followers—an army of them, in fact. Cutting our way through to him will be dangerous work but worthwhile when we have justice for his numerous crimes.”

  The Oathsworn cheered and hit the hilts of their swords against their shields.

  “Our scouts believe that Anton is heading south, to Grythos. It’s too late to stop him from regrouping with the bulk of his forces, but we can intercept him before he meets his army with his brother’s. And we can destroy him.”

  Once the applause died down, Scipion directed Eritar southward, and Matalo followed. They walked through their army’s haphazard formation as everyone turned for the march. Neither Scipion nor Matalo looked back as they made their way to the front. Clopping hooves harmonized with the sound of metal boots hitting the ground. The marching army’s orchestra was beautiful to Scipion; he closed his eyes to take it in.

  Matalo joked, “You should probably stay awake when you’re commanding.”

  “I was just enjoying the noise.”

  “What noise? The footsteps?”

  Scipion’s voice swelled with pride as he said, “Yes, and the hooves—all of them. We talked about the day we would lead an army.”

  “Fortunes can change quickly. Though it’s rare for them to change this much in our favor.”

  “We will take advantage of it,” Scipion said. “If we fail, we don’t get another chance.”

  “We won’t fail. We’ve got Scipion Gannala, the man who will lead us to victory. We’ve got Valkhars and mages, and even archers. We could ask for nothing more, all things considered.”

  “Luck is on our side,” Scipion said. “Now, we must plan as if we have less than none.”

  Matalo nodded and fell silent for a few minutes. They heard the chatter of their soldiers, the clanking of their metal armor, and the resounding thunder of one hundred and fifty hooves striking the ground at once.

  “Well, on second thought, you’re right as usual, Scipion,” Matalo said out of nowhere. “That is a beautiful noise.”

  —

  After a long day’s march, they camped a few miles east of Elbishelm, the southernmost city, in what was once Alnatria. Thanks to Jomar, Scipion knew the Day brothers’ general destination. Now, he had matters to discuss with his war council. Several familiar faces sat around the table in the tent functioning as the Oathsworn’s command center; and plenty of new faces had come as well. Upon the table was a map, with several wooden figurines to represent different forces.

  Once everyone had arrived, Scipion placed a hand on the table and stood. “Welcome, brothers and sisters, to the effort to find and bring to justice the criminal known as Anton Day. Many different walks of life have united in this common purpose. I think, first, we should know who we will be fighting alongside. So, let us introduce ourselves, starting with you.” He pointed to Matalo, who scratched his head.

  “Wait—but you know who I am.”

  Scipion gestured to the woman and three men he didn’t recognize before sitting back down. “They do not.”

  Matalo smiled and rose to his feet. “Ah, true. I am Matalo of Sophegion—fierce with a blade and filled with an indomitable spirit! I won’t stop until all the people of Madros Relia are free.”

  Next to him was Denna, tall and muscular with short, curly hair and deep brown eyes, who seemed a bit nervous about talking in front of the group. “I’m, uh, Denna. I come from the Veld, outside Ileonas. My dream is to find a Grythos Steel ax so that it never breaks off in someone’s head.”

  Next to her was a man Scipion knew well; medium-height and well-built, with a cocksure grin plastered on his face and one leg resting on the table. “The name’s Douglas, born in Elbishelm. I can hit a rabbit from fifty paces with an arrow, and I’m also pretty easy on the eyes, lucky for you all.”

  A few stray chuckles broke out. Next to Douglas was a man Scipion hadn’t seen before. He was balding and short but stout, and his legs looked ready to run across the entire continent. He wore a tanned leather vest over his tunic and carried a dagger at his hip. He said in a thin voice, “My name is Echo Moniz. Captain of the Scouts and Archers, at your service, Commander Gannala. The previous Captain of Scouts allowed a New Dawn ambush to attack the main host. I will not repeat his failure.”

  Scipion nodded his approval. Next to Echo was a grizzled old Valkhar, who grunted before starting in, “Zel Yano. Came from Sophegion.”

  The unfamiliar woman sat next to Zel Yano. She sat with her back perfectly straight, her face stoic. She had long, curly black hair and fierce brown eyes. Based on some of the scars on her face and arms, she’d seen plenty of combat. In a low voice, she said, “My name is Zel Ilear Germaine, Captain of the Cavalry. At your service, Commander Gannala—I’m always up for killing New Dawner bastards. I come from Old Maidia; so, I have plenty of experience with them.”

  Scipion nearly did a double-take. “You—you’re Zel Ilear? The rider of Soul?”

  She smiled. “Oh, you’ve heard of me?”

  He leaned back and returned the smile. “Yes, several things. I’m glad you are with us—I’m sure you will be an invaluable ally.”

  She nodded and gestured to the wiry man in the black cloak next to her, another newcomer. He had short, well-trimmed hair and several
circle-shaped markings inked into his face and neck—it looked to Scipion like some sort of ancient language was within the circles. The man said in a quiet voice, “My name is Mathieu Tyronus, Commander of the Gaion Mages contracted to serve King Logan Barradi. I hope to be of use to you.”

  Gaion Mages and Zel Ilear Germaine? Scipion thought. The king pulled out all the stops.

  He smiled at the mage. “I am certain that you will be.”

  Next to him was a serious-looking, bearded Valkhar. He was the only one to wear his full plate armor to the meeting, but it seemed like an extension of him. His face was deeply scarred from past battles, and his demeanor was cold but focused. “My name is Zel Daved Kummal. I hail from Oldton, in Xurubia. I’ve been a Valkhar for many years now, and in service to King Barradi for one. I am glad to see for myself what the next generation can do.”

  Scipion nodded and leaned forward. “Well met, everyone. Now that we all know each other, we will begin.” He pointed at the map before them. “Tomorrow, we’ll take Eldus Crossing to reach the other side of the Madros River.”

  Their forces were represented by a smooth stone with the king’s insignia carved into it. Scipion slid it across the river.

  “Are you sure you want to do that?” Zel Ilear’s eyes were glowing. “If we cross there, we’ll have to go through the Nibaran Forest. Our horses won’t be much help in those woods.”

  Zel Daved pulled at his beard and countered, “If we travel east before we cross the river, we’ll be giving New Dawn a major head start. He will not wait for us.”

  Scipion nodded his agreement. “He knows his Nertha is more important than defeating us right now. He won’t risk engaging us and losing his entire cargo. Besides, the other bridge to take us across the Madros is a three days’ march from here.”

  “You’re risking a lot on what you think you know about him,” Zel Ilear said. “The Nibaran Forest is dense and muddy. It’ll slow down the horses enough that we’ll be open to an ambush. And we should always expect the unexpected when it comes to the Day brothers.”

  Scipion considered her advice. “We’ll make sure our scouts are alerting us to nearby enemy movements. Rest assured, I plan on spending as little time in the forest as possible.”

  Echo Moniz, the stout captain of the scouts, rubbed his balding head and interjected, “Right. We’ll be coming and going. If they’re nearby, we’ll know.”

  The Scorpion Knight continued, “Once we cross the Madros, we’ll move southeast through the Nibaran Forest, into the Rolling Plains.”

  Matalo said, “Scouting will be of critical importance there. There are many settlements in the plains. We want to steer New Dawn away from them.”

  Zel Yano pointed to a cluster of villages on the map. “We should visit those settlements to add to our numbers. We could use more numbers if we’re going to engage New Dawn in open battle.”

  Matalo shook his head. “We don’t want to involve people until the battle is won. We need to keep the fight between us. We show them we can win, and then they will join us.”

  It was Douglas’s turn to jump in. “I know you don’t want to repeat your mistake, Matalo, but we do need all the help we can get. Besides, we’re behind them. New Dawn will already be through their towns by the time we arrive. Any survivors will be likely to join our cause.”

  Zel Ilear scoffed. “Assuming there are any survivors. I’ve seen firsthand what he does to villages when he wants to make a point.”

  Denna added, “You made this personal with them, Scipion. They’re going to take it out on whoever is closest at the time. That’s how this has always worked.”

  Zel Ilear replied, “I think we should use our mobility to meet them in the field—limit the damage they can do to the innocents in their path.”

  Scipion smiled. “I was thinking the same thing. We must force a battle before they reunite in Grythos. If we allow Anton and Julius’s forces to meet, they will crush us. We must make haste.”

  Zel Ilear added, “We may need to defend from New Dawn’s raiding parties once we reach the Rolling Plains. My riders can patrol the perimeter.”

  Nodding, Echo Moniz said, “You will know of any would-be attackers in the area well before we encounter them. My scouts will tell us of any threats in proximity.”

  Zel Ilear gave a confident smile. “All the better, then. I look forward to riding those bastards down and putting holes in them.”

  Scipion leaned back as the others discussed their plans. He smiled as the chatter carried on, learning everything he could about the commanders at his disposal. Matalo’s primary concern was the innocents of the region; Zel Ilear was fierce, her focus on the death of Anton Day; Zel Daved and Zel Yano were pragmatic about the venture, preaching caution; Echo Moniz was a bit twitchy but knowledgeable; Mathieu Tyronus, though quiet, had an air of confidence about him; and Denna and Douglas wanted to make sure that the group settled on the best plan.

  Everyone had their say about what role might suit their troops best. Before any of them knew it, the hour had grown late. Once Scipion noticed the lack of daylight peeking through the entrance to their tent, he rose.

  He said, “Once we know where they are and roughly how many are in their host, we will form our plans of engagement. For now, we should rest. We know where they’re moving, and we know our path.

  “If we make a mistake, there will be no reinforcement, no help. We would be in lands controlled by New Dawn without any support. That cannot be allowed to happen. We move as a unit, we live as a unit, and we fight like a unit. That’s the only way we achieve victory. Sleep well, everybody—I look forward to fighting alongside you all.”

  Chapter 21

  The Committee

  Day 182 of the Season of Aion, 1020 YAR

  The final stretch of Keia’s training was an unpleasant blur. Her free time was spent drinking with Devin, Raya, and Gilfried, reading, or sleeping. Oliver continued training her as judgment day approached.

  On the final day of their mandatory six months, the new recruits of the Fifth Magician’s Division stood in a tight formation aside from the rest of their comrades. Keia had sweat caked to every inch of her skin after a long day of casting.

  Captain Oliver Alrick stared each of them down. Keia frowned. He gave her a nod when his eyes fell on her. Then he began his speech.

  “Every one of you has grown tremendously since the first time I saw you. Each of you has earned your spot in this division. Through adversity, through changes, we have all fought to be present—right here and right now.” He smiled. “Our Division Leader Gaheris had other duties to attend to; so, I will handle the ceremony.”

  Hardly seems like it matters. By tomorrow, I’ll know if I’m a soldier or—what.

  Oliver continued, “Hitch, Raya, Finnegan, Vhalia, Ferred, Devin, Lesteria, and Keia—you are all henceforth recommended to permanently join the Fifth Magician’s Division. In doing so, you will swear a solemn oath to serve the king until you are relieved and to protect the kingdom and the people within it.”

  Warmth rose within Keia. Even if she didn’t make it past tomorrow, she had still made it the entire six months, every day harder than the last. It was hard not to be a little proud of that.

  After looking over the new recruits one last time, Oliver’s eyes shone as he said, “Tomorrow, most of you will begin performing drills with the remainder of the division, and we will have a new batch of recruits. In seven days, the Gladios Tourney will be held; as usual, new soldiers will be required to participate. Each of you, keep pushing. Keep learning as much as you can. And keep giving your all, no matter what. Ready, soldiers?”

  “Yes, sir!” Keia shouted in unison with the others.

  “Dismissed.” Captain Alrick turned.

  Keia looked to her comrades, who were hungry after a long day of training. The veterans shuffled off for dinner, while Keia remained behin
d to speak with the captain. Devin, Raya, and the rest of the new recruits stayed put as well.

  Keia spoke first. “Captain.”

  Oliver replied as he turned. “Soldier.”

  “Do you have any idea what’s going to happen tomorrow?”

  His mouth twitched. “Sadly, I do not. I only know that my opinion will weigh in somehow. Ultimately, the committee will decide.”

  “What if…” her eyes drifted downward.

  He frowned. “The committee will decide what happens then, too.”

  Keia felt her stomach twist. All the hard work she’d put in, and her fate was still in someone else’s hands.

  “You will perform admirably, Keia,” Oliver said. “You belong here.”

  “It’s true!” a voice piped in from behind. Keia turned to see Raya, who had stepped forward. “It’s true; you belong in the division as much as any of us.”

  Devin stepped forward. “You brought me here. And I always knew you’d end up here with me.”

  Hitch jumped in, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re one of us. Go show them that, and you’ll be fine.”

  Everyone, from Oliver to Claude, was nodding their agreement. Keia blushed from the swell of support. “I—I’ll do my best.”

  Oliver smiled. “That is all any of us can ask. You should all go and get some rest. I will update you on Keia’s trial tomorrow at lunch.”

  Everyone but Raya and Devin said their goodbyes and walked through the portal to Diligence Square. Raya pulled Keia close for an embrace.

  Raya whispered, “Show those bastards who you are.”

  Keia smiled. “I will.”

  Raya took a few steps back, nodded, waved, and then said, “I’ll see you in two days, all right?”

  “I’ll be here.”

  With a smile, Raya left. Devin stepped forward.

  “Keia, I—oh, by Aion. You’d better pass. You can’t leave me alone with these people.”