Steel And Sorrow (Book 2)

by Joshua P. Simon

  Odala made her way through the palace’s winding corridors and looping hallways, lost in thought about what to buy Tobin when she heard her name.

  Two approached her from the opposite direction. The woman wore a smile. Lucia did her best to dress conservatively, but even the full-length garment could not conceal the woman’s shape. Jober flanked her. The stocky man’s eyes remained ever alert.

  “Where are you off to so early?” asked Lucia.

  Odala narrowed her eyes. Though she no longer doubted Tobin’s feelings for her, she knew that at one time the Blue Island Clan warleader had eyes for his brother’s wife.

  “I’m on my way to the market, if you must know.”

  “Oh, we just came from there,” said Lucia. “I’m afraid the selection is rather poor today and most of the best deals are probably gone by now. You need to rise before the sun if you hope to snatch the best wares. I hope you weren’t going for anything important.”

  Odala tightened her jaw.

  She talks down to me like I’m a child.

  Odala forced a smile. “Actually, I was going to buy a gift for Tobin.”

  “Oh. How has he been?”

  “Wonderful. He told me just the other day that he’s never been happier.”

  Lucia frowned. “I rarely see him anymore.”

  Because I’m the woman he cares for.

  “Well, he’s a busy man. If he isn’t running his growing empire, then he’s showering me with attention.” Odala shrugged. “I guess he makes time for what’s important to him.” She smiled wider at Lucia’s wounded expression. “Sorry I can’t stay to talk any longer, but if I want to find something in those remaining goods, I need to be on my way.”

  Odala whisked past Lucia and Jober, feeling proud of herself.

  “Odala?” Lucia called her name after less than half a dozen steps.

  Odala turned. “Yes?”

  “A word of advice. Don’t buy anything in turquoise.” Her eyes moved up and down Odala’s dress. “I guess you didn’t know, but Tobin hates that color.” She smiled and left.

  Odala fumed.

  How does she know what Tobin does and does not like?

  Odala looked down at her dress and suppressed a scream. She stormed back to her room to change.

  * * *

  Walking at a brisk pace down the twisting hall, Jober waited until Odala could no longer hear them. “That was very unlike you.”

  “I know. She brings out the worst in me,” said Lucia.

  “She’s just a girl.”

  “That’s just it. You saw that gaudy dress. She practically looked like a woman working a bathhouse.”

  “She’s not unlike most her age.”

  “Perhaps it wouldn’t bother me so much if I knew she wasn’t manipulating Tobin.”

  Jober sighed. “How do you know she’s doing that?”

  And who cares if she is. It’s not like he doesn’t deserve to be taken advantage of after what he’s done.

  “Intuition. Something just doesn’t seem right.”

  “Well, there’s no sense in worrying about it. Tobin is his own man with an ever-expanding set of headaches to deal with. I’m sure he can handle her.”

  Lucia shook her head. “No. I need to talk to him about it.”

  He did not understand how she could be so oblivious to who Tobin really was. “He has Nachun to look out for him.”

  Lucia gave him an odd look. His tone had been more bitter than he intended. “The shaman isn’t here. Besides, I’ve never liked nor trusted him. Kaz never did either.”

  And for good reason considering what he did to your husband, and what he threatened to do to my family.

  “Jober?”

  He blinked. “Sorry, I was just thinking on what you said about Kaz.”

  “You miss him too, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  Lucia’s hand went to her face and Jober saw her wipe away a tear. “Is it crazy that more than a year after his disappearance, I still hold out hope that he will return to me?”

  “No. I hope for the same thing.”

  Maybe then I can be free of my lies.

  Lucia reached out and touched his arm. She gestured with her head toward a side corridor. “Come. I’ve made up my mind. I want to speak with Tobin.”

  “Now? But he’s probably at the training ground.”

  “I know.”

  “You can’t go there.”

  “Why not? I’ve been there before.”

  “Never at this time of the day.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine.”

  * * *

  Odala left her room for a second time that morning after hurriedly changing into a violet dress. She quickened her pace. Lucia’s comments about the market not having much to offer ate at her mind.

  She sighed when her brother appeared from around a corner.

  “Ah, just the person I wanted to see.”

  “I don’t have time to talk. I’m on my way to the market.”

  “Of course. Very important stuff.” His voice thickened with sarcasm. “Don’t worry, I’ll walk with you as we talk.”

  “Fine. What is it?”

  “Well, I wanted to thank you for getting me into Tobin’s meetings. It’s been invaluable. I see now that you missed a great deal of information before.” He eyed her warily.

  “You’re welcome.” Odala chose to ignore his other remark. She did not want him to know that she had purposefully held back information. She was torn between knowing where her loyalties should be and what she feared Soyjid’s true intentions were. She stopped. “Why are you here? Tobin should be at the training ground.”

  “Now is the best time to get word back to Father. Besides, rarely is anything of importance discussed on the training ground and I already know how crazy their methods are.”

  “How is Father?” asked Odala. She missed him. Her brother said he sent her regards to him, but she didn’t know if her father ever got them. Soyjid would not allow her to read their communications.

  Soyjid shrugged. “He’s growing old and I wonder how much longer he will be able to lead our clan. It’s good that he sees the wisdom in my plans.”

  “Your plans?”

  Soyjid chuckled. “Don’t look surprised, Sister. Since Mother’s passing, Father has relied on me more and more. I’d say I’ve been quite successful too.” He touched the fabric of her dress and then the necklace she had thrown on to match it. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

  * * *

  Tobin dipped his shoulder slightly and then relaxed his front leg. The Kifzo ignored Tobin’s first feint, but fell for the second. He lunged. Tobin deflected the attack and disarmed the warrior in one fluid motion. He touched the point of his practice sword against the man’s chest.

  “Dead.”

  The warrior bowed. “Well fought, Warleader.”

  Tobin nodded. “You’ve improved.” He glanced at the three warriors he had already defeated. “You all have.” Though Tobin had begun to offer brief bits of encouragement since becoming warleader, many still wore confused expressions when he did so. “Now, pair off and complete the rest of your drills.”

  They bowed in unison.

  Tobin left the practice circle, one of many on the training grounds, and headed toward Walor. Warriors paid their respect to him as he passed, bowing or pounding their chest.

  “Well?” asked Tobin.

  Walor cracked his neck. “Well what?”

  “What did you think?”

  “I’d say your improvement has been amazing. You dispatched four seasoned Kifzo in less than a minute. I doubt any other Kifzo could do that, including Guwan.”

  “Is that enough?”

  Walor shook his head. “I know what you’re getting at. Let it go.”

  Tobin lowered his voice. “I need to know. Am I better than Kaz?”

  Walor leaned in and whispered. “Who cares? Your brother is gone. You’re warleader now, And since you took Bazraki’s place, things h
ave never been better. Forget about Kaz.”

  I can’t help it. I have to know if I could best him.

  “Just answer the question.”

  “I can’t. Kaz was amazing, but I’ve seen you do amazing things yourself. I don’t think I could say who is better than the other. It would be too close to call now.”

  Tobin clenched his jaw. Sometimes I wish he would return just so I can prove myself against him. My ankle is healed and my training has never been sharper.

  Walor used the lull in conversation to change the subject. “Are we still on schedule to leave in three days?”

  Tobin gestured toward the barracks and they began walking. “Yes. Today’s the last day of training. I’m giving everyone the next two days off to be with family.”

  “They’ll be pleased with that, though I’m sure none will admit it openly.”

  Tobin sighed. “The old ways of my father are hard to break.”

  Walor grunted. “It takes time. You’ve done wonders already without sacrificing the skills we learned under your Uncle Cef. I can’t imagine anyone else working so hard to do the same.”

  “Thank you.” Tobin still found it odd to say the phrase to another Kifzo, but in private with Walor and even recently with Ufer, he did so.

  Walor changed the subject, looking uncomfortable by Tobin’s gratitude. “We finally heard back from Durahn.”

  “And?”

  “He wasn’t happy with you telling him how to run Nubinya. And he’s angry at being excluded from the campaign. He was already bitter after missing our fight against the Yellow Plain Clan.”

  “Let him be angry. The farther he is from the Kifzo, the better.”

  “I agree. It was wise to send him away when you did. He still resents not being made warleader after the Testing when we were boys. Taking orders from you has to be killing him.”

  Tobin grinned. “I hope it is.”

  Walor laughed.

  “Tobin!”

  Activity came to a halt as heads turned to the sound of a woman. Women were not allowed on the training grounds.

  A lump caught in Tobin’s throat as Lucia came toward him, smiling and waving her arm. He watched her body move, hips swaying hypnotically with each step. He purposefully refrained from spending much time with her, yet she could still take his breath away. A scowl grew on his face as he moved his attention to Jober who flanked her side.

  He tried to swallow the anger rising inside as he became aware of his warriors’ looks.

  Odala would never be so presumptuous.

  “You should not be here,” he said when she neared.

  The edge in his voice caused her to pause, but only for a moment. “I needed to speak with you.”

  “Then you should have found a better time. The training grounds are off limits to women.” He eyed Jober. “He should have told you as much.”

  “He did,” said Lucia. “But I insisted.”

  “Then what is it?” Tobin demanded.

  Lucia glanced at Walor and then to the staring warriors. “Can’t we speak somewhere more private?”

  “You chose this place, so say what’s on your mind.”

  Lucia straightened. “Fine. It’s about Odala.”

  Tobin’s eyes narrowed. “What about her?”

  “I think things are getting too serious between you two. I don’t trust her and I don’t think you should either.”

  Tobin’s voice came out like ice. “Who are you to say that?”

  “I’m someone who has your best interests at heart. I’m your friend.”

  First you deny me by choosing Kaz. Now you question the woman I found to replace you?

  Tobin laughed. “Do you?”

  “Yes, of course. Why is that funny?”

  Because you want to speak to me about matters of the heart when you loved a monster.

  Tobin wanted to say that, but still could not bring himself to be that cruel to Lucia. He hated to admit it, but the woman did hold some power over him. His relationship with Odala had taught him something valuable however.

  The less I see Lucia, the happier I am.

  “This conversation is over. Never speak to me again about Odala. Now go. You’re interrupting my training.” Tobin glared at Jober. “Do your job and make sure she doesn’t come here again. Is that clear?”

  Jober clenched his jaw in displeasure, but nodded nonetheless while Lucia looked dumbfounded.

  Good. He has not forgotten his place.

  Chapter 8

  Large double doors opened inward and a rush of air exited. The slight chill of the dimly lit room reminded Drake of a cavern. He squinted, but could not pierce the veil of darkness.

  “Does anyone have a candle?” he asked.

  “A candle? You idiot, you can’t bring an open flame into the library. These records are too rare and far too valuable to risk a clumsy boy knocking a candle over.”

  Drake recoiled at the outburst and outright disdain in the mage’s voice. Like the other mages who had decided to promote themselves above their skill levels, Lufflin once again wore his older green robes.

  “Sorry. But then how do you see what you’re doing?” asked Drake.

  “You shouldn’t even be here.”

  “Stop it. We were told to bring him here. He has no way of knowing our methods.” Tristan held out his hand and a glowing light formed in his palm. He sent the light out into the gloom where it lit three lamps hanging from hooks on a large stone column.

  “But he isn’t a mage.”

  “Others who weren’t mages have studied here in the past,” said Tristan. “Besides, if you don’t like it, take it up with Krytien.”

  Lufflin sneered. Drake could see that the two mages did not get along and the rift between them had only grown when Krytien had rewarded Tristan’s lone adherence to Amcaro’s ways.

  Lufflin huffed, grabbing a lantern and leading the group down a long hallway. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  The light from the lanterns cast an odd blue glow over the expansive room that dissipated until just enough remained for the shadows to play tricks on Drake’s eyes. They walked for a distance far longer than Drake thought possible given what he knew about the depth of the wing. Then he noticed the slight decline in the floor and realized they had descended underground.

  Drake had yet to see anything that resembled a bookcase or shelf, or even a discarded piece of paper. Only large columns of stone with the occasional set of tables and chairs occupied the space.

  They came to a halt and Drake finally saw several rows of bookcases, about twenty deep, on the edge of the light emanating from Lufflin’s lamp. A year ago Drake would have been impressed at so many books in one place, but after looking through the royal library in Lyrosene, he felt disappointed.

  It’s barely bigger than the queen’s.

  Lufflin wheeled around and glared at Drake. “What are you looking for in particular? As head of the library, I’ll have to help you find it.”

  Drake glanced at the rows again. “I think I can find it myself actually,” he said, hoping to get rid of Lufflin. “It shouldn’t take me that long to browse through this.”

  Lufflin broke out into laughter, his annoying cackle bouncing off the high ceilings. “You fool, this isn’t the library. This is simply a reference catalog.”

  Tristan sighed. “How about you show him where the books actually are? Your braying isn’t speeding this up any.”

  “Come this way,” Lufflin said.

  Tristan shook his head as they veered to the left. Listening to Lufflin’s caterwauling in the eerie place made Drake hate him that much more.

  I wonder if he would laugh that hard with a ballista aimed at him.

  They came upon another set of double doors, much larger and thicker than the first ones. Lufflin went through and Tristan gestured for Drake to follow. Lufflin allowed his lantern’s light to brighten enough for Drake to take in the actual library.

  Bookcases and shelves loomed above,
over fifty feet high, with ladders, walkways, and scaffolding all around the great space. Doors and staircases led up, down, and out to the sides. Through glimpses of the spanning light, Drake noted even more material in side passages. His mouth hung open, but he couldn’t find his voice.

  Tristan came up beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “So. Where do we begin?”

  That’s a good question.

  * * *

  Krytien shuffled along the dark hallway, hand aglow in light. A younger mage told him he could use a lantern, but this worked well enough for him. He reached the second set of double doors leading to the actual library and stared for a few moments at the vast horde of knowledge around him. Books, scrolls, sheets of parchment, and even ancient tablets filled the space. Each contained something of value, whether history, science, philosophy or the art of sorcery. Yet despite the impressiveness of such a collection, something about it felt wrong.

  Since reaching the school, that same feeling had been with him no matter where he went. No one could ever call the school plain or uninspired. However, nothing resembled the visions he had created for himself, and after decades of familiarity with those hopeful dreams of his youth, he found Estul Island depressing.

  High Mage Amcaro’s death hadn’t helped matters. Krytien had never admitted it to anyone, but he used to hang on every word Jonrell spoke about the man, jealous that his former commander had studied with the High Mage. Between Jonrell’s stories and the recollections of his old master, Philik, Krytien felt like he almost knew Amcaro.

  Krytien yawned and began his search. He had seen very little of Drake since the boy gained access to the library. Krytien had been too busy dealing with personality conflicts to check up on him sooner. Despite the condescending looks most mages gave him, especially those in black robes, he wished that at least one had maintained a residence here. Perhaps he could then lean on them to look after the dozens of students who had stayed after Amcaro’s death.

  After that initial confrontation with the younger mages, many relinquished their self-promotions with little trouble, but Krytien still saw the resentment in their eyes, especially from those who had awarded themselves the red robes.

  Lufflin most of all.