A Crumble of Walls (The Kin of Kings Book 4)

by B. T. Narro

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Fueled by adrenaline and bastial energy, Basen felt completely uninhibited by fatigue. The speed of his sprint was one he’d never been able to sustain for more than a minute, but now he felt as if nothing could stop him from getting to Tauwin.

  Once they reached the open land of Kyrro, Basen would have no hope of catching up to Tauwin and his horse. But here, with the streets crowded with curious people, Basen had the advantage. It didn’t take long before Neeko descended to run beside him.

  “I can’t catch him,” Neeko huffed, instantly lagging behind.

  “I will,” Basen called back.

  The wall around the capital was fast approaching.

  “Move out of the way of your king!” Tauwin yelled at a group of people in front of him.

  They obliged, but some threw stones at him. None hit its mark. Tauwin stuck out his foot and kicked a young man who tried to grab him. A woman threw a handful of sand into his face. He yelled out but didn’t fall.

  “Move!” Tauwin screamed at the next group, learning his lesson not to state who he was. But these people must’ve heard him from before or recognized him, because they threw even more rocks at him.

  One boy had good enough aim to strike Tauwin in the arm.

  “I will have you killed!” he screamed at the child. “I will remember you!”

  The boy turned and ran, while many sprinted after Tauwin. But the moment Basen stormed past them at a speed they’d surely never seen before, they stopped. Some yelled out in surprise while others cheered. It caused Tauwin to turn for a look.

  “Bastial hell!” Tauwin kicked his horse harder, and the animal sped up.

  Soon, he reached the wall. “Open the door!” he yelled, then cursed. Basen saw why as he came closer. There was no one there.

  Tauwin slowed his horse and then jumped off. He hurried toward the plank of wood keeping the door shut, holding the reins of his horse in one hand.

  Basen’s chest was burning from the strain he put on his body. But he would unleash an agony ten times worse on Tauwin. Basen pulled out his wand and slowed to concentrate.

  As Tauwin finally pulled the door open, Basen shot a fireball toward him without taking time to aim. It exploded against the wall and scared the horse. The animal shook free from Tauwin’s grasp and darted off. Tauwin started after it as he yelled out another curse but soon gave up and ran out the door.

  Basen almost stopped when he went through after the king, horrified by the sight. Tauwin’s cheering army was returning and damn close already! The battle had to be over, as the Academy’s army was retreating. What had to be hundreds of bodies lay between the two armies.

  “Kill him!” Tauwin yelled to his troops. “Kill the man chasing me!”

  They charged.

  Basen put everything he had into this final sprint. He would not turn and flee, even though thousands would soon be upon him. His vision blurred, each breath like inhaling fire. A shadow fell over him as Neeko soared by at an even faster speed. Go, Neeko. Basen didn’t care who claimed the kill anymore.

  “Shoot them!” Tauwin yelled.

  His archers and mages unleashed arrows and fireballs. Basen veered left then right to avoid the balls of flame. The arrows were much too swift, however. He could only hope one wouldn’t find its mark. The grass caught fire on either side of him. Tauwin nearly took an arrow himself as they flew around him.

  “Stop!” Tauwin screamed.

  “There’s one in the sky,” someone yelled. The mages and archers shifted their aim up at Neeko.

  He quickly descended toward Tauwin as the mages unleashed a barrage of fireballs. One hit directly, sending Neeko rolling backward into a patch of burning grass. Basen rushed to him as the flames intensified.

  Neeko had rolled out of the fire by the time Basen got there, but his clothes were still burning. Basen jumped on top of him to smother them, burning himself in the process.

  “Go,” a charred Neeko grunted when there was only smoke left. He began crawling in the opposite direction. “Get him.”

  Arrows and fireballs continued to rain down around them.

  Tauwin was almost to his army. Basen ran through the hailstorm of death and drew his wand. He had to slow to gather the necessary energy for a fireball, but it was his only chance. He shot and struck Tauwin’s feet. Basen sprinted so fast he couldn’t find the coordination to draw his sword as he neared the fallen king.

  He jumped on top of the bastard as Tauwin tried to get up. Tauwin thrashed around and managed to free his bastial steel sword. He cut the top of Basen’s arm, forcing him to let go.

  Fortunately it was Basen’s right, and he took out his sword with his left. Tauwin’s army was seconds away. Tauwin managed to stand as Basen swung at his head.

  Tauwin got his weapon in the way, but Basen’s strength was too much, knocking the sword clean out of the monarch’s hand. With one more swipe of Basen’s sword, Tauwin’s head tumbled off.

  Basen threw down his blade as he faced too many swordsmen to have any hope of winning. Countless archers and mages were coming through the ranks from behind them, raising their weapons at Basen, too.

  ”It’s done,” he told them and lifted his hands, blood dripping down his right arm. “No one will pay you anymore. There’s no reason to keep fighting.”

  He noticed them glancing at Tauwin’s severed head. No, it was the bastial steel sword lying beside it that caught their attention.

  They ran for the weapon. A brawl broke out among them. Half yelled for them to stop while the other half joined the fight. Basen turned and ran. Bastial steel was more valuable than gold, but there probably were still some among them who would rather kill him for what he’d done.

  He wasn’t surprised when a couple of arrows flew over his head. He looked back and was relieved to find others stopping those archers.

  It was finally over.

  Neeko was hobbling toward the capital wall when Basen caught up and tried to help him, but his touch made Neeko scream.

  “Sorry,” Basen said. “How can I help?”

  “Lean down.”

  Basen did, and Neeko put his arm over his shoulder.

  “You got him,” Neeko said, smiling through his pain.

  “I did.”

  “This was worth it.”

  His shirt was in pieces, the burns worse on his chest and back. His neck and chin were brown and already blistering, his eyebrows gone. He stumbled a bit as they made it to the wall. Basen was relieved to find Abith running toward them and pushing through a crowd.

  “Tauwin’s dead,” Neeko told him.

  “We need to get him to the Academy,” Basen said, reminding everyone of their new priority.

  “Past all of them?” Abith pointed at the army behind Basen.

  “They might not kill us.”

  “Not worth the risk,” Neeko said, then groaned as he lost his footing.

  He fell and looked to have no energy left to move. The crowd quickly gathered around them.

  “Did you kill Tauwin?” some asked.

  “Yes,” Basen answered. “And now Neeko needs help. Is anyone a healer?”

  No one answered.

  Basen didn’t know much about burns, but Neeko obviously was in dire condition.

  “I can try,” someone volunteered. “My house is close.”

  “Help us bring him there,” Basen told the crowd. “Gently.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Alabell had spent the entire day treating the injured. Her work began shortly after the battle started in the morning, and she’d hardly had a chance to sit since then. Now it was night, and she still hadn’t found time to eat.

  She remained in the medical building, overseeing the largest room there. It fit about a hundred people comfortably, so of course there were about three hundred there now. Fortunately, many of the injured had fallen asleep. The combined doses of potions in their bodies probably equaled the total number of doses given during a normal
year at the Academy.

  Alabell noticed a change in the room when Terren entered. People sat up in bed. Healers stood up straight and tried to hide their fatigue.

  “You healers are doing a fine job,” he announced.

  He seemed to be heading toward Steffen. Alabell cut in front of the headmaster on his way there. “Any news?”

  “None,” Terren said with disappointment. “I’ve sent out a search party.”

  My stars, what are the chances he’s still alive?

  “How many more are injured and will need a bed?” she asked.

  “None. Everyone who survived the battle is back at the Academy.”

  Terren seemed too tired to realize he’d just implied that Basen, Neeko, and Abith were dead. Her stomach clenched.

  Terren left to speak with Steffen, who was busy treating Effie. She’d been hit by a charging horse but had managed to escape serious injury. Later, however, she’d burned herself while casting a complex spell, and then she’d been stabbed in the back. Still, she fared better than many others.

  Alabell had treated more people than she could count, yet there were even more, like Cleve and Peter, who’d been cut on an arm or a leg and whose injuries weren’t grievous enough to kill them, so they’d come and gone quickly.

  Reela, Annah, and Vithos had survived the battle without injury and taken turns visiting Effie. Steffen had a gash on his arm that he’d bandaged himself and then gotten right back to treating others.

  A few of the Krepps had died in battle, none that Alabell knew by name. Rickik and Nebre had both taken deep cuts. A bunch of uninjured Krepps had come in with them, and all proceeded to cluck and shout until Alabell yelled at them to quiet down. From the Kreppen she understood, it seemed they’d been bragging about their number of kills.

  Alabell was thankful for the people who’d come from Oakshen and Kyrro City to volunteer. They’d helped save lives by simply watching over the most serious cases and notifying the healers if anyone needed immediate attention. Effie’s younger sister, Gabby, was as skilled as many of the healers already at the Academy. Unfortunately for the other patients, she never left Effie’s side.

  Alabell walked past Terren, Effie, and Gabby to attend to a restless young man who was drunk on the caregelow he’d been given. As she reminded him of his earlier promise to stay in bed and sleep, she overheard Terren speaking with Steffen.

  “How many now?”

  “Twenty-nine,” Steffen answered.

  The number who’ve died after coming in here, Alabell realized.

  Some wounds were too severe for caregelow to fix, like a punctured lung, a sliced open stomach, or a broken skull. Alabell wished there was something she could give those people to send them to their permanent rest sooner, so they wouldn’t suffer until the inevitable end. Other injuries required treatments besides caregelow, like broken bones, and thank the stars for that or they would’ve run out of the argent liquid already.

  Even if she hadn’t been so busy keeping people alive, Alabell doubted she’d be able to sleep. Pushing Basen away hadn’t helped to alleviate this terrible dread she’d known would come.

  All these people need help, yet the person I want to save the most I cannot. It was too late to pretend that Basen was just a friend. She realized that now, her heart aching as if slowly being torn in two. It felt as if everything was in slow motion, so many dying, the war all but lost, their world crumbling.

  The hole that had opened beneath her feet would swallow her as soon as she stopped working and shut her eyes.

  She stayed on her aching feet through the night, refusing to cry as more of her Academy brothers and sisters died. Others were depending on her strength, and she wouldn’t let them down.

  Basen’s mother was part of a team that brought breakfast to the medical building in the morning. Alabell thanked her and was about to ask if she’d heard anything about Basen when she noticed Juliana’s grief-stricken expression.

  Alabell didn’t know how to ask as a building devastation overwhelmed the little bit of appetite enticed by the sweet aroma of food.

  “Is…?” No other words came out.

  “I don’t know yet,” Juliana replied.

  “I have hope,” Alabell lied.

  Truthfully, she’d lost hope when Basen had hatched his plan to manipulate Fatholl and take on Yeso’s Elves. Even if he lived through that, she’d figured he surely would fall by the end of the war. Part of her hated Terren for requiring too much of Basen. Another part of her hated Basen for being too careless with his life. But she knew both men had no choice. Her only option had been to suppress her feelings for him. But her detachment hadn’t been a clean break. She felt as if the two of them were a painting with a rip down its center. She could still see the beauty it held if it became whole.

  It wasn’t long after Juliana left that Shara ran in screaming, “We need caregelow!” She glanced around the crowded room. “And a bed!”

  “What is it?” Alabell asked.

  Shara rushed over to her. “Hurry!”

  “There are no free beds. Who needs help?”

  “I’ll stand,” a warrior volunteered, gingerly removing himself from the bed. His legs were cut and bandaged, but he would live.

  “In here!” Shara yelled over her shoulder. She grabbed Alabell’s white coat. “The caregelow?”

  “I have it ready.” She pulled a vial from her pocket as she watched the doorway, praying to a god she didn’t believe in to let it be Basen. She didn’t care if he was an inch from death. She would save him.

  Abith and Basen rushed in, carrying Neeko between them.

  “Oh my stars,” Alabell whispered and ran toward them. Prickles swam over her skin as tears pooled in her eyes. Basen was alive. She was so filled with emotion, she couldn’t quite tell what she was feeling.

  She forced herself to focus on Neeko as they set him on the free bed, a sheet wrapped around him.

  “What happened?” Alabell asked.

  They carefully removed the sheet, leaving him shirtless. Much of his torso had been burned. He was barely conscious, his mouth clenched in obvious agony. She then noticed the burns on his chin and his lack of eyebrows.

  “He was hit with a fireball while he was flying and fell into more fire,” Basen said.

  “When?” Alabell asked. “This isn’t fresh.”

  “Yesterday evening,” Basen answered.

  “It doesn’t matter!” Shara protested. “Just give him the caregelow.”

  “I’m trying to figure out exactly what happened to him first,” Alabell told her. “These burns are bad, but they don’t appear immediately fatal.” Yet he looks close to death.

  Neeko moaned and turned his head. Shara grabbed his hand. “Try to relax.”

  Abith and Basen looked exhausted, both panting, but Alabell needed answers from them.

  “What happened after he was burned?” she asked.

  “A healer in the capital tried to treat him,” Abith explained. “But he continued to get worse.”

  “The healer didn’t know what to do,” Basen added. “He tried everything he could think of. We brought Neeko here during the night after the last of Ulric’s army left.”

  Alabell realized what the problem was. “The healer put him in cold water, didn’t he?”

  Basen nodded.

  Shara grabbed the caregelow from Alabell’s pocket. “Neeko.” She held it to his mouth. “Drink this.”

  “Stop!” Alabell yelped louder than she meant and snatched the potion back. “That will slow his heart and kill him. That healer did more harm than good by putting him in cold water. Get me half of the blankets in that pile there, Shara.”

  Once Alabell had the blankets, she put them beneath Neeko’s feet to raise his legs.

  “Now the other half,” Alabell instructed.

  She covered Neeko except for his face. A few other healers had come over to help. Alabell told one, “Get me a quicken potion.”

  “Will he live?” Sh
ara asked as the healer ran off.

  “Yes. But he doesn’t have sufficient blood flow right now.”

  The healer returned with the potion, and Alabell gave it to a confused Neeko.

  “Immersing him in cold put him into shock and kept his heart from beating as hard as it must to recover from this kind of trauma. We’ll improve his circulation and then give him sustenance.”

  “You mean feed him?” Shara asked.

  “In time. Burns like these take away much of his energy, and we need to restore it once his body is stronger. In the meantime, there are potions that can help. Eventually, we can give him the caregelow to prevent infection and heal his skin completely. Don’t worry, Shara. I promise you he’ll live. We’ll even take away those nasty scars.”

  “I don’t care about those as long as he lives. Thank you!” She threw her arms around Alabell and squeezed a grunt out of her.

  “You’re welcome,” Alabell squeaked.

  Terren approached, a look of horror on his face. His gaze was stuck on Neeko who looked dead, his face almost as white as the blankets covering him.

  “He’ll be fine,” Alabell assured the headmaster.

  “Good! That’s very good!” He looked to Basen and Abith. “What happened with Tauwin?”

  Abith smiled and turned to Basen. “Why don’t you tell him? You were the one who did it.”

  Basen grinned. “The bastard’s dead, Terren.”

  Dead? He’s finally dead? “Are you certain?” Alabell asked.

  “I don’t think even the best healers in the world can reattach a severed head.”

  Finally, Tauwin had gotten what he deserved for what he’d done to her family. She felt sparks of joy, but mixed in was sadness that brought tears to her eyes. Her mother was still gone, and Alabell would never stop missing her.

  Terren laughed and grabbed Basen’s shoulder. Then he turned and announced to everyone, “Tauwin is dead!”

  The healers and the injured all cheered as Terren slapped Basen’s back, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

  “Well done! I’m calling a Redfield meeting right now. You can tell me everything that happened as we go to the stadium.”

  Basen smiled politely. “Actually, I’d like to stay with Neeko.”