Rise and Fall (Book 1)

by Joshua P. Simon

  “So then what do we do?” asked Walor, moving away from the window.

  “We wait.” Tobin gestured toward the table. “And for now we eat and get some rest. Same shifts as before, day and night.”

  A man hissed at the comment, snatching a leg of some roasted bird from the table, collapsing onto a pallet.

  “Do you have something to say, Ufer?”

  The assassin grunted, biting into the leg with a savage, ripping motion. “I need not say anything. We saw with our own eyes how you would lead us, Warleader.”

  The disgust in Ufer’s voice made Tobin’s skin crawl. The way he said it reminded him of the way Kaz called him brother. Kaz would have given them blood, even if it meant our eventual deaths. He remained calm, speaking in an even voice. “That’s right. You saw exactly what was meant to be seen.”

  The dissatisfied looks of his men turned to confused ones. Tobin ignored them all, including Walor’s. He returned back to the window and continued his watch.

  * * *

  Two days had passed since the Kifzo’s arrival and yet Tobin still waited for Mawkuk to summon him. For all outward appearances they were being treated as guests, staying in reasonable quarters and their basic needs cared for. Different servants changed waste pails and provided food and drink. Tobin had yet to see the same one twice. He tried to ask them questions on the first day, but quit after he realized their ramblings were a waste of time and full of misinformation. Tobin took to ignoring them.

  Late that afternoon three new servants entered with their meal. He found himself gaping at one in particular. She looks like Lucia, only younger.

  As the servants set about their duties, he tried to distract himself with the constant activity on the dizzying walkways, watching people scurry about like squirrels bouncing from branch to branch. Yet, his eyes kept drifting back to the center of the room, watching the young woman lay out fresh food on the large table. His last glance told him that he wasn’t the only one to notice her beauty as several other Kifzo stared at her with devilish eyes. He grew angry at the thought, knowing that many of those warriors would be quick to rape the woman had they been here conquering the city rather than seeking an alliance.

  And even then, the hunger in their eyes makes me wonder how well they will control themselves.

  Only after the door closed and the servants vanished out of his sight, did Tobin push himself off the wall and help himself to the food. He grabbed a half loaf of bread and some water, and then returned to his spot near the window. The rest of the Kifzo settled on their pallets, eating in relative silence. Tension filled the room.

  Tobin was not blind to his men’s growing displeasure, though Ufer had been the only one to voice his opinions. The way each warrior moved, the looks they gave him, the faint whispers when they thought he slept was enough to show Tobin that they blamed him for their current situation. He wondered how long their patience with him would last.

  Would they dare defy me here and now?

  The sound of rain falling from the surrounding tree branches onto the slated roof distracted Tobin from those grim thoughts. His eyes caught the quickened pace of the people below as they ran for cover. Watching others struggle to maintain their composure while being struck from every possible direction brought him a brief moment of satisfaction. He lost count the number of times he had felt as they did.

  He stood there for some time, motionless, until dusk came.

  Walor relieved his watch some time later and Tobin saw the strain in the scout’s face when doing so. “Do you question my decision then, too?” Tobin whispered out of earshot of the others.

  Walor sighed. “Question? Yes.”

  Tobin grunted. “What would you have me do then?”

  “It isn’t for me to say. You are Warleader now, not me. I don’t understand what you’re doing. Your approach is so different than your brother’s. But I do trust that you have your reasons.”

  “And the others?”

  “The others do not share my confidence.”

  “How long do I have?”

  Walor shrugged. “No telling.” He paused. “Two against ten. The odds would not be in our favor.”

  Tobin met Walor’s eyes and nodded. Nothing more needed to be said.

  I’m glad that I brought him with me. I wonder if it was a mistake to have left Nachun behind after all.

  Tobin lay down in his pallet and tried to relax in the quiet night. Sleep evaded him.

  * * *

  Eventually sleep did come, though Tobin could not say when. He knew this only when he awoke with a start late in the night. A sound caused him to jump and his hand moved toward one of his concealed daggers to prepare for the mutiny he was sure to be upon him. Walor stood in the door, speaking softly to a messenger.

  Tobin got up and introduced himself to a young boy whose dress consisted of pelts from the giant nutria that inhabited the swamps.

  “Tobin, Warleader of the Blue Island Clan, I greet you. Mawkuk, Ruler of the Gray Marsh Clan seeks an audience with you and your men this night,” the boy said in a quivering voice, barely above a whisper.

  The messenger had not looked up to meet their eyes and Tobin saw the trembling in the boy’s limbs as he awaited a response. “Take us.”

  Riding in the cage at night was a far different experience than during the day. Rather than searching the trees and taking in the city’s details, they focused on the ground below where torches and fires burned bright. Despite the time of night, half of Cypronya looked to be up, crowding around the fires and awaiting the outcome of the anticipated exchange.

  The Kifzo were led to the center fire, where Mawkuk sat upon his contorted throne. Shadows danced off his thin frame, giving him the appearance of a corpse.

  When all were settled, Mawkuk gave a slight bow which Tobin returned. “I am ready to speak to you about our terms.”

  “Terms?” said Tobin confused. “I was under the impression that terms had been discussed previously.”

  Mawkuk waved a hand. “You would be wrong.”

  There was a hiss from behind that Tobin knew came from Ufer. He ignored it. I will not let him provoke me now. He stood motionless with his arms crossed in front and eyes focused on the Gray Clan’s ruler.

  Mawkuk continued. “Our people have always been looked down upon by the other clans of Hesh just as your people once were. So when Bazraki used his Kifzo warriors to unite the Blue Island Clan, we took notice. Other clans dismissed his actions despite the tales of your warriors’ skill in battle. I became intrigued and monitored Bazraki’s subsequent actions with keen interest.

  “We watched the construction and fortification of Juanoq that made it a city almost impenetrable from invaders. We watched him absorb several of the smaller nomadic tribes into his own. I see what Bazraki intends for the future.

  “Your brother came to us, offering terms,” said Mawkuk. “He claimed such an offer was an alliance, but those terms seemed hardly fair. And so we waited to give our answer, eager to see just how powerful the Blue Clan had become.

  “Then we heard of your father’s conquest of the Orange Desert Clan. How he acquired the talents of a shaman whose powers are said to be unmatched in all of Hesh. It is also said this shaman has learned secrets from the old ways and created new weapons for your father.”

  “I fail to see your point.” said Tobin.

  “It sets the stage, if you will, for the reason you’re here now,” Mawkuk said with a knowing grin. “Despite all the advantages the Blue Clan has acquired, your numbers are still lower than the other clans. Folding in warriors of the Orange Clan did not completely solve this problem since their casualties were so great.”

  “And?” asked Tobin.

  Mawkuk snorted. “Very well. My point is that you are here for our answer to those pitiful terms your father offered us. Your father would have us fight for him and help him conquer Hesh while in return we receive what? A fraction of the spoils? A small portion of land?” He paused and smil
ed. “Bazraki needs us, but we do not need him. No one bothers us here—our land is next to useless. We could live here as we always have and be content. Your father, on the other hand, needs greater numbers if he is not only to conquer, but also occupy the rest of Hesh.”

  “It is as you say,” said Tobin with a shrug.

  “Good. Then I think it only fitting for him to meet our terms rather than the other way around.”

  “And what are those terms?” asked Tobin, his patience starting to crack. Another hiss of displeasure from behind caught his ear.

  “Nothing too grand, I assure you. We simply divide Hesh down the middle. Your father would keep his land, of course, along with what he took from the Orange Desert Clan. We would then help him overthrow the Yellow Plain Clan and in turn, he will help us with the Green Forest Clan and the Red Mountain Clan which I will rule over. Very reasonable, don’t you think?”

  “And the White Tundra Clan?” said Tobin, trying to appear indifferent.

  Mawkuk waved a hand. “Let them be, I say. Their land is even less desirable than our own.”

  “No argument here.”

  “Then you will convey my terms to Bazraki?” asked Mawkuk.

  “Actually, I have been given leave to speak on my father’s behalf,” said Tobin in a smug tone. “I would think we could work out the details here and now.

  “Tobin, please. You mustn’t make this deal. El Olam…,” said a small whisper from behind.

  Tobin quickly whipped around. “El Olam is not here, Walor. As Warleader I speak with his voice, not you.” Walor noticeably flinched back at the brush remark. Tobin met the eyes of several other of his Kifzo. “Nor does any anyone else.” He turned back, the piercing hatred of his warriors’ eyes traded for the greed in Mawkuk’s eyes.

  “Excellent,” said Mawkuk, grinning ear to ear. “Then we have a deal?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to hear my father’s terms again?”

  “Seems like a waste of time.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Mawkuk chuckled in a raspy voice. “Very well.”

  Tobin nodded. “Yes, my father is looking to make use of your warriors. In return, he would be willing to give you one third of all spoils. Of course, he must have first choice.” Mawkuk let out a snort which Tobin ignored. “Second, he would extend your lands by half into those lands currently held by the Yellow Plain Clan. You would still be required to pay tribute each year to him as will each of the other clans. However, if your men prove themselves worthy on the battlefield, I think he would be willing to reduce the tribute required of the Gray Marsh Clan.”

  Mawkuk laughed deep and long, nearly choking. “Obviously, I must refuse your father’s terms.”

  “I thought you might say that.”

  “So then we are agreed that my terms are fairer?”

  “Fairer? Possibly. Acceptable? No. Your terms are an insult.”

  Mawkuk’s face grew dark. “An insult? You dare talk to me like that in front of my people? We’ve given you every courtesy and treated you hospitably!”

  “How did you treat us hospitably? You kept us up high in your trees, where we were guarded by poorly disguised warriors. You made us wait, to wear us down. Now, you make ridiculous demands without even the simple respect of hearing our terms first. Then you dare speak to me as some servant in front of my warriors,” said Tobin seething.

  Mawkuk’s eyes widened at the sudden change in tone. “So, the son thinks he can intimidate me as well as his father? You can tell Bazraki there will be no alliance and he will have to be content with the land he already has.”

  Tobin started to laugh. He noticed Mawkuk’s men shift nervously, tightening the grip of their weapons as he did so. “For a man who claims to know so much about my people, you sorely misjudge my father. He would ignore everything else he had planned to bring his full might upon this treehouse you call a city. Even if it set him back years, he would destroy you.”

  Mawkuk laughed back. “You talk brazenly for a man with only eleven others watching your back. I’ve heard the tales of your brother’s fierceness on the battlefield. I’ve seen firsthand the savagery behind his eyes. I see little of that from you.” His leaned forward. “You are not your brother,” he said in a condescending tone.

  Tobin seethed. It always comes back to Kaz.

  Mawkuk waved a hand. “We are done.” He paused and looked at his men. “See them to their boats. But if our guests give you any trouble, kill them.”

  Tobin snarled as a man near his right stepped forward. “Enough!” He moved in a blur, pulling free two daggers. The throws landed where intended.

  Let’s see if my men understand the gesture.

  He rolled under the lunging marsh warrior and reached over his shoulder for another concealed blade. In less than two long strides, he was at Mawkuk’s throne, the dagger’s point resting on the skin just below his sunken left eye. “Everyone stand down or he dies,” Tobin snarled.

  The Gray Marsh warriors halted. After a moment, one chanced a step and Tobin pushed the tip of his blade into Mawkuk’s skin, just enough for a single bloody tear to run down his cheek.

  “Stop!” the ruler screamed, his voice cracking. The warrior froze.

  A strong stench filled Tobin’s nostrils as Mawkuk relieved himself. Tobin spared a glance toward his own surprised men. Good, they understood me.

  Several Kifzo crowded around the two daggers he had thrown in the dirt. They understood the targets Tobin marked and knew not to harm them without his command.

  After a moment he spoke, eyes glaring at the frail old man. “You are right. I am not my brother. Kaz would have long ago lost his temper at your endless slights. He would have killed you before your warriors could have stopped him.” He grinned. “Even now, I could do the same. But I see little value in that.

  “For all your talk, you cannot hide your fear of the Blue Island Clan. Isn’t that why you would only meet with us in front of your people? Little good that did you,” he said grinning wider. He gestured with a tilt of his head toward the two people his daggers had marked. “It’s also why you dressed your daughter and son as servants and mixed them with the others waiting on you. You assumed you could hide such things from me.” Tobin leaned in close, his voice barely a whisper as he slightly twisted the point of his dagger, drawing forth more blood. “But I know things. I know they are your weakness. You see, my father has spies too and they are much better than yours. I could have killed them. I threw my blades at their feet to let you know how helpless you really are.” He leaned in even closer. “So tell me. Do you see the same savagery in my eyes that you saw in my brother’s?”

  Mawkuk trembled, he wheezed with each intake of breath. “What must I do?” he finally rasped. “I will accept your father’s terms then.”

  Tobin clicked his tongue. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. Those terms were meant for someone who would help our cause willingly. Things have changed. No, rather than one third of the spoils, you will be rewarded with one fifth instead.”

  Mawkuk’s eyes shot down to the blade at his face. “Agreed,” he said with a quick intake of breath.

  “Good. And since you’ve proven that we cannot trust you, your children will be coming with us.”

  “No! Wait, I…”

  “You had your chance. Don’t worry. As you said, I am not my brother. I promise you they will stay safe as long as you uphold your end of our deal. Betray us in any way, and I will see that they suffer in ways you can’t even imagine.”

  Mawkuk noticeably sunk in on himself, seeming even more frail as Tobin pulled back the knife from his face. “I will not betray our deal,” he said. A heavy sadness filled his voice as he eyed his children.

  “Good. Tell your people to clear a path for us.”

  Mawkuk straightened in his throne, trying to appear more authoritative. “The Blue Clan will not be harmed. Anyone caught doing so will face not only their own execution but that of their family’s,” Mawkuk shouted, h
is voice growing stern once again.

  The people reluctantly parted as the anger and confusion upon their faces slowly turned into despair.

  Tobin suppressed a smile. A better deal without any bloodshed. He looked down at his dagger and then to Mawkuk’s face. Well, maybe a little. Kaz could not have done this, and neither could my father.

  “Walk with me down to our vessels. You and your Warchiefs. We will discuss what is expected of you, and when it is expected to be carried out.”

  Mawkuk nodded, eyes never leaving his children’s faces.

  * * *

  Bathed in moonlight, Tobin moved one foot in front of the other. He shuffled backward and then hopped forward. The sword in his hand slashed, stabbed, and spun while he teetered on the narrow railing of the ship. His balance was improving, though it was taking him longer than he liked to relearn proper technique with two strong legs beneath him. Three quick steps and then a front flip. Landing softly on the ship’s deck, he sheathed his sword.

  “After coming in so late this evening, I thought even you would have tried to catch up on rest,” said a voice from behind.

  Tobin spun around. “You know I don’t sleep well. Besides, it’s the first real chance I’ve had in some days to go through my forms uninterrupted.”

  Nachun looked down. “And the ankle?”

  “I know it is as strong as it once was but I still find myself favoring it out of habit.”

  “It’ll come. I can already tell a difference in the way you move.” He paused. “That means your body is becoming more accustomed to the change.”

  Tobin raised an eyebrow, glancing around at the clear star-filled sky. “So, you stayed up to check in on my ankle?”

  Nachun smiled. “Not exactly. I haven’t had a chance to speak with you in private about what happened with Mawkuk. Walor filled me in, though, and said that you surprised even him on how you handled yourself.”

  Tobin walked over to a skin of water and drank deep. “I hope he isn’t angry with me for keeping my plans from him. I haven’t been able to talk to him about it.”

  Nachun shook his head. “I think he understands. You were wise in not telling anyone. Your men are looking at you differently now?”