Rise and Fall (Book 1)

by Joshua P. Simon

Tobin saw Lucia frown in confusion as she looked upon her husband. Can she really be so naïve to what Kaz is? Does he keep his true self that well hidden from her?

  “Sit down, Kaz,” said Bazraki in a calm voice. “Nachun is still new to our clan. He doesn’t know that we do not boast so openly about our accomplishments.”

  Nachun bowed his head. “I apologize, El Olam. I meant no harm. I only wished to honor your sons in front of so many guests.”

  “Kaz is honored as Warleader of the Kifzo. His men obey and his enemies fear. That makes me proud.”

  “And Tobin?” said Nachun, pushing the issue further.

  Why is he doing this?

  Bazraki shrugged, turning to Tobin. “Do you need accolades from me for performing your duties? A parade perhaps?”

  “Of course not, Father,” said Tobin, eyes averted. Not a complete lie. A kind word, even only in private would be enough, just a fraction of what you give Kaz.

  “El Olam,” said Bazraki.

  “Father?” asked Tobin, looking up, confused.

  “You will refer to me as ‘El Olam.’”

  His eyes widened in surprise, but he did not protest. “As you say…El Olam.”

  Tobin remained silent throughout the rest of dinner, picking at the pile of food before him. Despite his initial hunger, he could no longer enjoy the meal. On the one occasion he chanced a look from his plate, his gaze met three faces that stung in their own unique ways; Kaz’s satisfied grin, Lucia’s frown of pity, and Nachun’s look of concern.

  He was accustomed to the looks from his brother and after years of abuse, he easily ignored Kaz’s. Lucia’s expression stung harder, but again, he understood it. Kaz has kept her in the dark after all.

  But to Tobin, Nachun’s actions felt like betrayal. Did he not listen to anything we spoke about returning from Nubinya? Why would he embarrass me in front of everyone, especially my father? His stomach turned in disgust and immediately he decided he had enough of the evening. He pushed himself away from the table and stood, bowing. “El Olam, may I be excused?”

  “Why?”

  He lied. “I have some duties that need completing before the morrow.”

  A chuckle from Kaz.

  Bazraki cast a glance at Tobin’s food and then at him, raising an eyebrow. “Very well.”

  Tobin left in a hurry. Catching a glimpse from one of the dining room windows, he saw that the moon rested high in the night sky. The long hallway, absent of workers who had finished their shift for the day, was now filled with an eerie feeling, its walls echoing even the smallest of sounds underneath its vaulted ceilings.

  “Tobin, wait a moment.”

  He stopped but did not turn around. “What do you want, Nachun?”

  “I did not have a chance to speak with you in private.”

  “I think you did enough talking tonight,” said Tobin, wheeling about to face the shaman.

  “What do you mean? I only…”

  “You only embarrassed me. Did you not listen to any of the things we spoke of concerning my relationship with my family?” Tobin paused. “I trusted you.”

  “I only wished to help, to raise you up in your father’s eyes, so that he could better see your value.” Nachun put his head down. “I’m sorry.”

  Tobin sighed, letting a long pause hang in the air. “My mother died when I was five and Kaz was six. I remember almost nothing of her, or what our family was like before her death. But I remember everything since then. From that time on, Kaz was the one my father relied on, the one he trusted, the one he was proud of, and the one he loved.” He shook his head. “I used to work so hard to be better than him. At one point, I believe I was. But that ended when Kaz was made Warleader. The things he did…,” he said trailing off. He gestured toward the ground. “And any hope I had of overtaking him or proving myself better and more capable to lead ended when he broke my ankle.”

  “But you are still Bazraki’s son, his blood.”

  “Blood is all I am to him. So long as he has Kaz, I am nothing else.”

  “I think I understand now. I should have handled things differently.”

  Tobin nodded. “Good. Then return to the meal. There is little point in you leaving with me now.”

  The shaman apologized again and left. Tobin turned and slowly descended the staircase, eager to put this day behind him.

  Chapter 8

  “Why don’t you ever let me win? Everyone else does,” she said pouting.

  “That’s because you’re a princess and they think they need to let you win or else they’ll fall out of favor with you,” he replied.

  “Why aren’t you worried about falling out of my favor?” Elyse asked, frustrated. She stood with her hands on her hips.

  The boy laughed and shook his head. “Because I’m your brother. Besides, someone needs to teach you that to get the things you want out of life, you have to work for them.”

  “I get almost everything I ask for now. Why should I work?” Elyse asked in a defiant tone.

  “Now, yes. But it won’t always be that way,” said the boy more serious than before.

  “Why not? I’ll still be a princess.”

  “Yes. Maybe even a queen one day. And people will still fawn over you, flattering you with words and gifts alike, all the while making it seem as though they are your friends and that they love you.”

  “What’s wrong with that? Isn’t that what friends do?” she asked confused.

  “What’s wrong is that there will be very little truth in their actions. As you grow older, you will only become more important. Dukes, barons, minor lords, and even servants will try to manipulate you to get what they want. The best ones will even make you think that it was all your idea.”

  “You’re lying. Why would people do that?” asked Elyse.

  The boy shrugged his shoulders. “Money. Land. Many reasons. But in the end it all comes down to power.”

  The girl thought about what her brother had said for a moment, biting her bottom lip. “I’m worried. How will I know who to trust?”

  He looked at her as he always did when she was troubled, in a way that made her feel safe. “You’ll have plenty of time to learn how. And I promise I’ll be there to watch out for you when you need it most.”

  “What about Father? Why can’t he watch out for me?”

  He sighed. “I don’t expect you to fully understand until you’re older but Father isn’t someone you can rely on…at least not anymore…not after Aurnon and mother died.” His voice caught for a moment when he mentioned their brother and mother. Elyse never had the chance to know either as Aurnon was much older and died before she was born. Her mother died from the Red Fever when she was only a few months old.

  Jonrell stood up straighter after gathering himself. “And I know I’m young but I’m trying to learn all that I can. Master Amcaro said I’m one of his better students, even better than those who are much older.”

  The time her brother spent studying with Master Amcaro was a sore spot for her, as it would take him away from the castle for weeks at a time. “Is that why you spend so much time on that stupid island with him? Because you can’t figure out who your real friends are?”

  He sighed again. “It’s a little more complex than that. But yes, that is one of the things I’ve studied.” He paused and his tone changed to something sterner. “You should start reading more. When you get older, maybe Master Amcaro will take you to Estul as well and you can study in his great library.”

  “No way,” she blurted. “You look at those boring history books. I like to read about romance and poetry.”

  “You are young yet, little sister. One day, your interests will change.” His tone changed again, more caring than before as he put his arm around her. “Until then I guess I’ll just have to keep an extra eye out for you.”

  * * *

  “Your Majesty? Your Majesty, are you awake?” a voice echoed in her subconscious.

  Elyse realized she was dreaming, dre
aming of a time many years ago. The realization startled her as she jerked her head up from her folded arms. She had fallen asleep at her desk again for the third straight night. It was becoming more of a habit than she would have liked these past few weeks.

  Her body ached from the unnatural position.

  “I’m sorry to wake you but I know you have much to do today,” said Lobella.

  Elyse yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Am I late?”

  “No, Your Majesty. I made sure not to let you sleep in, just as you requested last evening.”

  “Thank you,” said Elyse trying to manage a smile through the grogginess. She stood slowly, stretching out the stiffness. It wouldn’t do for her to be seen hobbling around the castle, too tired to keep her eyes open.

  “Which book was it this time, Your Majesty?” asked Lobella as she prepared Elyse’s clothes for the day.

  Elyse glanced back to the desk, noticing the first hints of dawn drifting through the window, and dancing across the worn pages. Having spent so much time looking at the book the previous night, she should have been able to recall its name without thumbing through its pages. It was a boring book, like most of them, but it was also one she should have read years ago.

  Is that why I dreamed of you, Jonrell? To let you know you were right? But then, you said you would watch over me. Where have you been all these years?

  “The Military Campaigns of Aurnon the First: Settlement of Cadonia,” Elyse finally answered.

  Trying to be polite, Lobella responded, “It sounds very interesting.”

  Elyse chuckled as she splashed cool water from the basin near her dresser onto her face. The water gave her goose bumps and she welcomed the sensation as she tried to bring life to her tired eyes. “The book is about as interesting as my undergarments.” She sighed. “Still, I must read it.”

  “As you say.”

  “Lobella?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “For the hundredth time, please call me ‘Elyse’ in private. It will mean so much to me.”

  The girl blushed. “I’m sorry. I keep forgetting. I promise I’ll do better.”

  Elyse smiled. “No need to apologize. It is just nice to relax in my chambers, away from everyone else.” Light slowly filled the room and Elyse breathed in deeply. “When is Gauge expecting me?”

  “In half an hour.”

  “Very well. Help me get dressed then. As you said earlier, I have much to do today.”

  * * *

  “Ah, Your Majesty. How are you this morning?” said Gauge rising from his seat.

  “I’m doing well,” said Elyse, forcing a smile, fighting her exhaustion. They chose to meet in a secluded section of the castle’s gardens for privacy. The space was beautiful, but the view overlooked the inner courtyard where the marble had not fully come clean from the assault by High Mage Nareash some months ago. She suppressed a shudder. “How are you?”

  “I’m afraid I’ve had better days.”

  She waved him to a seat after taking hers and gestured for him to continue.

  “There is a growing sense of unease, the first rumblings of rebellion.”

  Elyse inhaled as her stomach knotted. No. I’m not ready for this. “Where are these rumblings coming from?” she asked, trying to seem calm.

  “Inns and taverns mostly. War is becoming a popular topic of conversation.”

  “These conversations are amongst the peasants though, correct? They often talk of such things to pass the time.”

  “True, the common man enjoys gossip as much as the nobility. However, I think there may be some merit in preparation.”

  “Preparation for war? Because of a few conversations amongst the commoners? That seems drastic. What happens if the nobility discovers us doing so?”

  Gauge rubbed the forefinger and thumb of his right hand across his temple as he spoke, obviously stressed. “Actually, Your Majesty, I have reason to believe that the nobility have already started preparations of their own.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, as you know, we have informants throughout the land hidden in each duke’s inner circle. Aurnon the Third instituted this after the rebellion led by Jeldor’s family some years ago.”

  Spies? Father kept me in the dark about so much. Elyse nodded.

  “Well, we’ve had reports that Duke Conroy has held more frequent and more private meetings as of late, each with his most loyal lords.”

  “Can we really make an assumption that Conroy is likely to commit treason based on a few private meetings amongst his own lords? I understand your caution, but it is still his right to do so.”

  Gauge reached into his breast pocket, pulling out a folded message that he handed over to Elyse. “I received this just half an hour ago.”

  Elyse carefully read the letter, written by one of the informants. The writing was obviously a woman’s, the wife of a lord perhaps, though she gave no name. However, the queen gleaned enough information from the letter to understand that Duke Conroy arrested the woman’s husband on false charges, for his part in an elaborate plot to assassinate the duke. The wife suspected that the arrest was meant to draw her out of hiding and force a confession from her. She ended the letter by stating that many other arrests were made under similar circumstances but none of those actions would deter her from doing her duty. Elyse was speechless to hear that someone was so dedicated to the throne, despite never having met the queen in person.

  A pang of guilt hit her. Feeling responsible for this woman’s distress, her stomach knotted further. “The letter mentions others. How many?”

  “We aren’t sure, but it seems that nearly all of our contacts in Segavona, have disappeared, been arrested, or, in some instances, killed.”

  “One Above,” she whispered under her breath.

  Gauge continued. “We know that Olasi has already taken precautions to strengthen the borders he shares with Conroy and Tomalt. He was the first to return home after your father’s funeral. So far he has been able to keep most of the activity hidden, though I’m sure they will find out soon enough. I doubt either will do anything about it for now.”

  “So Tomalt is gathering his forces as well?” she asked.

  “We don’t know for sure, Your Majesty. We haven’t heard anything from our informants since your father’s funeral,” said Gauge, shaking his head.

  “Maybe there is nothing to report then?”

  “There is always something to report, Your Majesty. Even the most mundane messages about the cost of silk in other cities are sent to us. It would be one thing not to receive word on any military activity, but to not receive any messages at all is most troubling.”

  “What about Jeldor and Bronn? You haven’t mentioned them,” she said, afraid to hear Gauge’s answer.

  “We still receive our regular updates on Jeldor, though there is little in them. He is a man content to sulk around his castle and keep to himself.”

  “And Bronn?”

  “He had not reached Astrya, last we heard. In fact, some say he headed further south, though to where, we don’t know. Possibly Conroy? But, it could be nothing. Our reports have been steady but also conflicting. There has been a lot of activity around his northern border, near Jeldor, and we haven’t been able to discern why.”

  Elyse’s head spun as she tried to process the information. Thankfully, it took her mind off her nervous stomach. “What does all this mean?”

  “It’s hard to say with certainty. It could mean nothing, but then again it could mean everything.”

  “So what you’re saying is that Conroy seems to be the biggest threat; Olasi is taking matters into his own hands; Tomalt might be a threat too, but no one is sure; Jeldor isn’t doing anything of importance; and no one can really figure out what Bronn’s doing. Is that it?”

  Gauge grunted. “I believe that sums it up nicely, Your Majesty.”

  “Anything else?” she asked with a heavy intake of breath.

  “Not at the
moment. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of these reports before meeting with the rest of your advisors. Speaking of your advisors….” Gauge leaned to the side of his chair, looking over the queen’s shoulder. Elyse followed his gaze. A young boy waited, bouncing in place and looking anxious. “I do believe the council is awaiting our arrival.”

  * * *

  Gauge opened the heavy oak door to the council chambers and entered to announce her arrival. Although this was not Elyse’s first time in council, her palms began to sweat.

  Mostly men, few women held a seat on the council. Each person in attendance came from two distinct backgrounds, those whose reputation of hard work earned them their position, and those granted a spot on the council as a result of their wealth and status.

  The former group was tough and hardnosed, never willing to give an inch in any discussion, thinking doing so would make them appear weak.

  The latter group differed little, never budging from their stance as they felt entitled to be heard above the others. Therefore, it often took weeks for even the simplest of decisions to be reached.

  At first glance, the meeting room resembled a holding cell for its lack of comfort. The chamber contained a lone distinguishing feature, a black marbled half wall that shielded a raised dais encircling the room.

  The walls were free of any hangings, just as the floor was free of any rugs. Windows surrounded the room, closer to the ceiling than the floor, ensuring that no one would be distracted by the activity on the outside and no assassin could loose an arrow from afar. Aurnon the First had been very specific about the construction and adornment of each room in the castle. He was adamant that any room used to decide the fate of a country should be filled with nothing but the thoughts of those in charge of the task.

  A domed ceiling, its center glass, allowed even more sunlight into the room. On days like today, when the sun shined brightly and a breeze blew in from the windows, the room felt less intimidating to Elyse.

  All parties managed the appropriate smile and greeting as Elyse walked across the open floor. She crossed the room with grace, stepping lightly up stone steps where she joined the rest of her council seated behind the half wall. Seats faced inward toward the room’s center.