Forever Soldiers: The Tyrus Chronicle - Book Four

by Joshua P. Simon

  My body ached from clenching as I unfurled myself. With great pain, I crawled to bed, uncaring that I hadn’t finished undressing, not even removing my boots.

  I just wanted to rest.

  * * *

  I woke later that night mouthing curses, head aching and covered in sweat. At least half a dozen times, nightmares had interrupted my slumber. The realism wasn’t as strong as my first episode, but it was still strong enough to concern me.

  I had thought my daily talks with Ira were helping me gain a grip on my life. The tremors came less often, and the dreams hadn’t been nearly as vivid. But after hours of struggling, it was clear I hadn’t improved at all.

  Staring down the length of my bed, my feet caught my attention. Looking over the side, my boots rested neatly on the floor. A knot formed in my stomach. Likely Myra or Zadok had come in to check on me since I’d gone to bed so early without telling them good night.

  It also wasn’t like me to sleep through being jostled.

  I rationalized that it could work in my favor. If asked, I could just say I hadn’t been feeling well and thought the extra sleep would help. I only hoped that I had not cried out from my dreams. I must not have. No way either would have left me unattended if I was screaming in my sleep like I had when Dekar and Ira covered for me during the last Geneshan war.

  Glancing out of the window, the moon’s position told me I had roughly an hour before dawn. Despite my lingering exhaustion, fear drove me to sit up rather than attempt sleep again. What memory would haunt me if I closed my once more?

  I dropped my head into my hands at a complete loss. For so long, I had been the person others came to, the person who had a plan or could think of one quickly. Never had I struggled with a solution to a problem for so long.

  I wept, body heaving and shaking with each breath to keep my sobs from waking my kids. I felt so small, so pathetic as I allowed my tears to flow. How could someone who had faced all that I had in my life be so overwhelmed?

  It didn’t make sense.

  “They’re just memories,” I muttered to myself. “You made it through the real thing. Just memories.”

  But those memories had become shackles. They kept me from becoming the man I wanted to be, the man Lasha would have expected me to be, and the father my kids deserved.

  A phrase I hadn’t given much thought to in some time popped into my head. It was a phrase that when used in the right context spoke volumes. A phrase I rarely used.

  “Not even hell could be this bad,” I whispered.

  CHAPTER 22

  Three days after leaving Danso’s camp, Ava and her men lay hidden in a narrow ravine that sliced through thick forests. She had just closed her eyes to rest when Eder came storming into their midst, pale-faced and spouting off about the dead coming back to life.

  She hurried over to him quickly and yanked him by his armor. “Get a hold of yourself,” she hissed. “I don’t care what you saw, if you can’t calm yourself and give me a report I can use, then I need to find another scout.”

  The threat of replacing him seemed to jar Eder back to his senses. He took a deep breath and said more slowly. “There’s a man dressed in yellow. All by himself about a mile and half east of here. He had six dead bodies with him. One was already standing. The five others were on the ground. I watched him bring one back to life before I hauled it back to you as fast as I could.”

  Necromancy? And a man in yellow. So the rumors are true about Noval’s sorcerers. Ao’s teats.

  “All right,” she said, guiding Eder to a larger rock. “Sit and have a rest.” She turned to Sergeant Margo who had stood nearby, listening. “Get me three men who are good at staying quiet. We leave in five minutes to kill ourselves a necromancer.”

  * * *

  Eder led Ava, Margo, and three others through a heavily wooded area. She kept her concealment spells high as they slunk about, doing all she could to ensure they avoided detection.

  “Just up ahead,” said Eder, voice shaking. He pointed an unsteady hand. “On the other side of those trees.”

  “All right. Stay here and keep watch. We’ll go on ahead.”

  Eder looked relieved.

  Ava signaled the others forward. Minutes later, they were in position.

  Just as Eder had said, a Noval sorcerer dressed in yellow robes stood before six swaying figures. An odor of decay overpowered the area. The six had long been dead, flesh and clothes tattered and deteriorating.

  She kept the curses that she wanted to voice inside her head so the enemy wouldn’t be alerted. She looked at the men with her and felt certain that they restrained themselves equally.

  Margo gestured to her for orders, obviously wanting to put a stop to the scene, but Ava signaled for him to hold. She had never seen necromancy at this level before, and her interest was piqued.

  Over the next several minutes, the Noval sorcerer muttered low while making sweeping gestures with his arms and hands. Each change in the spell brought forth a spike in the foul odor as if the sorcery itself was rotten. Following the gestures, one or more of the dead acted on the sorcerer’s orders—walking, turning, and worst of all, drawing weapons.

  By the gods, how did they figure that out? Several Turine High Mages acting in concert could not have mustered such mastery over the dead.

  Disgust filled Ava, but fascination grabbed her tight as well. She had no desire to touch necromancy, but her curiosity as a mage prevented her from interrupting the man. A hiss to her right grabbed her attention. Margo and one of the other soldiers argued low. The soldier looked sick to his stomach. Margo was no better, but his face was stern when he gripped the man’s arm, steadying him.

  They’re wanting to put a stop to this. They know this isn’t natural. And they’re right.

  She got Margo’s attention with a faint bird call they had worked out earlier. The Sergeant turned and she made several hand gestures to signal her desires. He passed the word to the three others with them.

  Less than a breath later, they moved as one on the sorcerer. Ava had ordered Margo and his men to capture the sorcerer while she targeted the dead he controlled. She threw the six dead bodies back more than two dozen feet with one strong pulse that rippled the air. The enemy, a man thirty years her senior, turned wide eyes on her, hands glowing as he readied an attack. She strengthened her shields, intent to take the worst of it so that the old man would not notice Margo sneaking up to grab him for questioning.

  The enemy sorcerer raised his hands, then immediately drew them back, clutching at his chest. He gasped and hunched over. He dropped to his knees, then his side before striking the ground.

  “Gods-be-damned!” Ava cursed while running toward him.

  Margo beat her to the sorcerer, standing over him with blade drawn and frowning as if the sorcerer’s state was an act. Ava got down and rolled the old man onto his back. Lifeless eyes stared back at her, but still she checked for a heartbeat and a sign of breath. There were neither.

  “Ao’s teats!” she cursed.

  “Is he dead?” asked Margo.

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” said another soldier.

  Ava scowled. “No. It’s not good.”

  “Why? Made our job easier.”

  “But now we can’t question him,” said Margo.

  Ava nodded, appreciating that the older veteran understood the opportunity they had lost. “This changes everything about the war,” she said, gesturing over to the bodies she had thrown back. “Just think what could be done with that kind of power.” No longer under the enemy’s spell, the dead lay motionless, limbs at odd angles, faces slack.

  Margo got their thoughts back on path. “He couldn’t have been completely alone out here. There must be others around somewhere.”

  Ava said, “Yes. Likely just came out here to practice.”

  �
�So others will come for him.”

  “Yeah. Which means we need to be gone by then. And we need to find those others first and take them out. If possible, we need to try and question another of their sorcerers.”

  Margo looked down at the old man. “Preferably one not so old.”

  She stood and chuckled. “Or that. C’mon, let’s get Eder.”

  * * *

  Hours later, they found the enemy force to which the Noval sorcerer had been attached. Their size was far larger than what Ava had expected, making her rethink her plan. After putting the details in place, she and a small group of her men initiated an attack on the enemy’s camp to draw them away from their position.

  Surprisingly, it hadn’t taken much for the camp to empty in pursuit.

  A long tree limb whipped past Ava’s face as the soldier running in front of her let go without any regard to who trailed him. If she hadn’t ducked, it likely would have knocked her unconscious.

  And then we’d all be screwed.

  “Watch it,” she hissed.

  Benzecry, a private with hair so blond, it appeared white looked back. His thin beard was darker than the hair on his head, but that was mostly caused by the dirt caked in it. “The enemy is right on us!”

  She heard the panic in his voice. Benzecry was one of her youngest soldiers. His increasing anxiety had her regret bringing him along on the mission.

  He yelped when he briefly stumbled on the litany of roots at their feet. They had been chased all morning by several hundred enemy soldiers through woods so tightly packed with trees, the roots and brush blocked the ground. Twisting an ankle could mean their end.

  “Keep your head, and trust in the plan,” someone hissed not far off to her right. It sounded like Sergeant Chinan, another older veteran Ava knew she could trust.

  Benzecry didn’t seem encouraged by the sergeant’s words, but he at least never stopped running forward.

  Good enough for now.

  Around her, another dozen Turine volunteers ran, pushing and shoving their way through the thick foliage.

  “Did we lose them?” asked Chinan as he worked his way over to her.

  There was worry in his voice instead of relief. If they had lost their pursuers, an entire morning of work would be for nothing.

  She slowed her stride to look back when a crossbow bolt zipped through the air, thudding into a nearby tree trunk.

  “I’d say no.”

  Shouts from the enemy erupted, but she couldn’t understand a blasted thing. Kartan was not a language she knew well. Unlike Geneshan or the Southern Kingdom tongue, there had never been a need to study it. Still, she could infer enough from the excitement in the enemy.

  Good. Stay confident and believe you’ll win. That’s just what I want.

  Footsteps from the enemy came louder as their pursuers gained.

  Another bolt sailed past her, but unlike before, the trajectory of it pointed to an attack on their left.

  Ao-be-damned. That’s why they were so quiet. They were working to encircle us and I didn’t sense it.

  “Faster!” she yelled, while quickly working a spell.

  The spell was not meant to be flashy, just a small one of misdirection sent toward those flanking them. She dared not attempt anything more in an effort to save her power.

  The sound of rushing water reached her.

  Finally.

  “Bank right!” she called.

  Her men reacted without a word, though Benzecry let out a small sound reminiscent of laughter.

  Hopefully from relief.

  Ava wouldn’t feel any of that until her plan was done.

  They emerged into a clearing over a hundred yards in circumference with a fast flowing river positioned behind it. On the right side of the clearing, she knew the river tumbled over the side of a cliff.

  She and her men moved with purpose as they positioned themselves to carry out the plan she had made the evening before. She followed behind Chinan who leaped over a small, recently dug trench.

  Halfway across the clearing, Ava turned, seeing their pursuers whoop and holler with glee, sprinting after them with almost reckless abandon. Many pointed toward the river with devilish grins. The enemy thought them trapped and anticipated slaughter.

  If only they knew.

  She halted and gestured to Chinan who gave a shrill whistle. The others formed up beside her.

  “So many,” she heard Benzecry whisper in wonder as the enemy flooded out of the woods.

  At least two hundred. Possibly more, she thought as the bulk of the Kartan force came screaming into view. More than I thought.

  The hair on her arms stood at attention in the face of such numbers.

  Brother, did you ever feel this rush when one of your plans began to fall into place?

  “They’re so certain,” she said low, trying to sound confident. “Almost a shame, really.”

  “Ava?” asked Chinan.

  For the first time, she heard worry in his voice. But he was right, they couldn’t wait any longer.

  Her hands shot upward, crafting a massive ball of fire more than ten feet in circumference. It was intended to intimidate and distract as much as it was eventually meant to harm. Leading Kartan officers shouted orders and the charging soldiers slowed drastically as if having second thoughts about their course of action.

  She felt sorcery crackle somewhere among the Kartans in response to her efforts.

  “Signal it,” she said, gesturing with one hand to where she felt the enemy sorcerers react while holding the spell above with her other.

  Chinan inserted two fingers into his mouth and let out a whistle so high that it drowned all other sound, and left her ears ringing.

  It even startled the Kartans. Recognition washed over their faces as they realized their error. They had been had.

  Too late.

  Thrown by squads she had hidden on the edges of the clearing, four small cylinders rose above the outside edges of the Kartan forces. So distracted with the fireball she held overhead, none, not even the enemy sorcerers noticed them.

  Just as I had hoped.

  The cylinders dropped inside the Kartan ranks near where she had felt their sorcerers respond. She couldn’t have timed it better if she had tried. When the cylinders struck, hell followed.

  Four explosions erupted. The concussive blasts created a force of air that pushed against her like a gale force wind. What it did to the Kartan soldiers was far worse.

  Bodies took to the air and descended in parts. Dirt, rock, and wood comingled with the gore, raining down in contrast to the slowly drifting smoke and grass.

  The Kartan soldiers not directly affected by the blasts staggered in confusion. Ava seized on that moment, unleashing her ball of flame. Without enemy sorcerers available to counter her efforts, it pulsed, swelling and spreading until a blanket of fire more than fifty feet wide engulfed the enemy. Screams of those burned alive pierced the insanity around her.

  The Kartan soldiers who had survived the makeshift destruction globes she had created the night before as well as the sorcerous blanket of fire wheeled about in a panic. Ava felt no sympathy for them, but she did regret the images that would no doubt stain the minds of her and her men.

  Already severely weakened from the power needed to make the cylinders the night before, and the run through the woods, the blankets of fire she had loosed left her ragged. Still, it was up to her to give the last signal that would sound the advance. She flung a bolt of blue lightning into the sky that illuminated the chaos. The Turine soldiers she had kept in hiding crawled out of ditches that bordered the right and left side of the clearing. They charged.

  * * *

  Ava leaned over the river on hands and knees. She thrust her head down into the water until completely submerged. She counted to ten, then flung he
r head up and back while taking in a deep breath. For a moment, the cool water washed away not only the dirt, blood, and sweat of battle, but also the years of a hard life her body had endured, giving her a brief burst of energy.

  “Heck of a plan, Ava.”

  She wiped her eyes, glancing over to Margo as he treaded water some twenty feet away. He and several others had begun taking advantage of a small inlet in the river that protected them from being carried over the falls.

  “It was,” she said, allowing herself a moment of satisfaction.

  “I had always heard it took several High Mages to create those sort of explosives.”

  “Usually does.”

  That’s why I made four. They were weaker individually, but spreading them out helped me control the blasts. And really, I wasn’t completely sure they’d even work.

  She kept that bit to herself though.

  “Guess you’ll be doing more then.”

  She shook her head slowly. As water dripped down her neck, the rush from dunking her head began to subside.

  “No. The trade-off isn’t worth it. I feel awful right now, and it’ll be a couple of days before I’m back at full strength.”

  Margo grunted, then moved closer to the bank until he stood waist deep in water. He scrubbed his chest and arms with his hands.

  “A good fall back option then?”

  “Perhaps. More of a going out in style option,” she admitted, before looking away from his naked torso.

  The last thing she needed was to linger on the body of a man she commanded.

  Ava envied him and the others as more stripped to bathe themselves, especially since her leathers seemed to trap the worst kinds of smells. Though she had long grown accustomed to seeing men naked and even having them occasionally catch her undressed, she had never gotten to where she could just strut around without a care.

  Glancing about, she caught the hint of a smile from several as they looked in her direction while kicking off the last of their undergarments and jumped into the water.