* * *
Tobin blocked out the pain as a healer treated his wounds. Walor lay on a pallet next to him, sleeping. The healer said Walor would make a full recovery, but needed his rest for now.
After stitching up the last of his cuts, Tobin rose and made his way out of the hull. Soyjid stood at an open doorway waiting for him.
“You blame my father, don’t you?” the boy asked.
“I absolutely blame your father. His orders were to secure the shore and he had more than enough time to do so. Many of my men want him killed.”
Soyjid frowned. Surprisingly, the boy seemed calm. “I understand. He did have an obligation to be here.”
That had not been the reaction Tobin expected. “So you aren’t here to make excuses for him?”
“No.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I’m quite certain that his loyalty or intentions have nothing to do with any recent failings. He’s an old man, and like many his age, he is prone to mistakes. So, I only ask that you give him the chance to explain himself. And if you decide he’s not worthy to lead, still allow him to live.”
Tobin considered his plea.
“I know what you’re thinking,” said Soyjid. “Yes, the line would fall to me. However, I promise you won’t be trading one liability for another.”
“What do you suggest?”
“I’d like the chance to present some ideas. I didn’t want to overstep myself in your council before. But now, it might be the best way to prove my usefulness.”
Tobin raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll never be a great warrior. However, I can contribute in other ways. All I ask is for a chance.”
Tobin felt lightheaded, no doubt from the loss of blood. He too needed to rest, though he hated to admit it.
What would it hurt to listen to the boy? We have time before reaching our next destination.
“Tomorrow morning after breaking our fast you’ll have your chance.”
* * *
“How well do you know Tobin?”
The question startled Odala from her sleep. She sat up and saw her brother sitting across from her, thin arms folded over his chest. He wore an intense look.
“What are you doing?” she asked, looking around.
“I asked you a question. How well do you know him?”
Odala blinked away the sleep, growing angry that her brother would just barge into her cabin. “I know him better than you if that’s what you’re getting at.”
He laughed. “Do you? He was ready to kill Father after today’s fiasco.”
“What? No. He didn’t mention anything about Father to me earlier.”
“Of course he wouldn’t. He doesn’t want to upset you. But, I overheard him talking to Ufer and had I not stepped in and defended him, Father’s life would already be gone. At least now, Tobin will speak with him first.”
Odala eyed her brother skeptically. “What do you want from me?”
“I just want you to examine your feelings for Tobin. Ask yourself if the few comforts you enjoy are worth more than your own family.”
He stood and left her room.
Chapter 10
Drake shuffled across the training grounds and made his way through the armory where the night shift pounded steel between hammer and anvil. His head throbbed from the noise and his red eyes grew heavier from the heat.
Just a few more minutes.
They had arrived in Lyrosene hours before and after ensuring the new mages had a place in the barracks near Krytien, Drake had been dismissed for the night. He didn’t argue. Whatever he had to say to Kaz could wait until morning. They had pushed hard since landing in Floroson and the late nights of studying left him feeling ragged.
He entered a set of heavy doors and then another as he walked the length of a short hallway. A plain oak door marked the entrance to the room he shared with Raker.
Home sweet home.
Drake attempted to sneak into the room, but the squeal of rusted hinges betrayed him. He winced at the sound, then doubled over as a stench slapped him in the face. A flickering candle on the table dimly lit the room.
The chamber pot in the corner overflowed with waste near a pile of broken liquor bottles. His nose then caught a different smell, one of death, as he noticed a missile from a ballista imbedded into a nearby post. Dried blood ran along the length of the shaft and a congealed pool of the stuff covered the floor. The ballista against the back wall sat empty.
What in the world happened?
Covers shuffled and a grunt followed. A new smell mixed with the slew of others. He looked over at Raker and sighed.
Passed out and worse than when I left him.
He fumed when he turned his attention to his cot, a place he had been dreaming of for weeks. Raker’s dirty clothes and muddy boots rested on his bed.
Drake dropped his bag, walked over to Raker’s cot, and kicked the engineer in the rump. Raker didn’t budge. Ready for a fight with no one to reciprocate, he took one last look at the room and grabbed his bags. He didn’t have the energy to clean up the mess and rest would not come in the sty Raker had made.
All I wanted was one night without Lufflin belittling me at every turn. One night where I could wake up and not have that idiot of a mage in my face. He stormed out the room, making sure to slam the door.
Enjoy your rest, you old fart.
* * *
Exhausted from reaching Lyrosene in the middle of the night, Kroke leaned against a wall and picked at a speck of dirt under his thumbnail.
Despite the hour, Krytien had insisted they meet with Kaz and Elyse right away. Personally, Kroke could not have cared less about giving or receiving any updates at this hour. They let Drake get to bed and Kroke found himself jealous of the boy snoozing away in his cot.
Well, at least one of us will get some rest.
Kroke probably could have gone to the barracks himself, but he thought it a good idea to stick around in case Krytien needed someone to corroborate the state of Estul Island.
Kroke watched the tension in their exchange. Kaz wore a look of quiet criticism. Krytien quickly did the same, probing Kaz for information regarding the coming campaign, then growing exasperated at the vague answers. If Elyse hadn’t been there to mediate the exchange, Kroke imagined things might have gotten out of hand.
Elyse had come a long way since those weeks he and Rygar spent with her on the road to gain Jeldor’s support, growing into the woman and queen that Jonrell said she could be. Looking at her reminded Kroke about huddling around the pathetic embers of a dying fire, gnawing on cured pork and berries.
He watched her lay a hand on Krytien’s arm as his frustration with Kaz grew. The mage’s shoulders immediately relaxed. Despite waking in the middle of the night and being forced to throw herself together in a hurry, something about her captured Kroke’s attention.
“Hey, Kroke.”
Kroke jumped and in the process jammed the point of his knife under his nail, drawing blood. He cursed and stuck his thumb in his mouth. “What’s the matter with you, Rygar?”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
He sheathed his blade. “What are you doing up this late?”
“I had a late watch. I heard everyone made it back so I found an excuse to get away and drop in. How was the trip?”
“Less than ideal.”
“That bad?”
Kroke nodded over to the heated conversation. “Pretty much. Look, how about we talk tomorrow. I’m exhausted.”
“That’s fine,” said Rygar. “I don’t want Yanasi to worry about me anyway.” He looked down to Kroke’s thumb again. “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you cut yourself. What distracted you?”
Elyse. I was watching Elyse.
He shook his head. “Nothing. Just tired is all. Go get some rest.”
“You too. Be careful,” said Rygar, walking off.
Kroke turned back to the conversation as it ended. Elyse
looked up briefly in his direction and smiled. He felt his stomach tighten.
Be careful, huh?
* * *
With a huff, Krytien passed Kroke and headed out the door. He left the study and plodded down the hallway, taking his anger out on the stone under his feet. He turned back, only briefly, when he saw Kroke catching up to him. The man wore a troubled look and kept staring at his thumb.
Krytien let out a heavy sigh as he descended a set of stairs. He could not figure out why he and Kaz didn’t get along. He wondered if it still stemmed from him being a mage, but he thought the man had gotten over such nonsense.
After all, he sent me to Estul Island to bring back more mages. Is that it? He hates mages even more because he has to rely on them?
In the past, Krytien tried to be understanding of Kaz’s prejudices. He knew it must be frustrating for those without talent in the art to watch the ability of mages around them, especially in the case of someone like Kaz who prided himself in his physical prowess. Yet, Krytien thought his relationship with Jonrell would have been enough for Kaz to trust him fully.
“He probably only keeps me around because of Jonrell’s memory,” mumbled Krytien.
“You said something?” Kroke asked, a step behind.
“No.” Krytien looked over his shoulder. “Go back to staring at your thumb.”
Kroke frowned and did just that as the two continued on to the barracks.
* * *
“What was that all about?” asked Elyse.
“What?” said Kaz.
“That,” said Elyse as she pointed to the door through which Krytien and Kroke just left. “Why do you treat him like that? He’s only trying to help you.”
Kaz grunted. “Maybe. But at what costs?”
Elyse shook her head in disbelief. “Costs?”
“He doesn’t trust me. He wants to help, but only as long as I take his advice. He keeps bringing up what Jonrell would have done or the man before your brother, Ronav. I’m not them. I need to do what I feel is best.”
“That doesn’t mean you need to dismiss his experience or belittle him.”
“I treat him the same way that he treats me,” said Kaz, scowling. “It’s late and you should get some rest.”
“What about you?”
“I’ve got too much to do.”
They said their farewells and Elyse watched him stalk from the room, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
* * *
“So you’re telling me there was a dead assassin attached to that missile at one point?” asked Drake.
Senald, one of the engineers, had just finished explaining the Assassin’s Guild attack on the Hell Patrol.
“That’s what I said.”
At least I know what all the heads on the city wall are about.
“Then why is the missile still in the wall and blood still on the floor?”
“Raker told me to get the body out of there. He didn’t say anything about cleaning up. And he’s been too drunk to care otherwise.” Senald shrugged.
Drake narrowed his eyes. “I asked you to watch over him while I was gone.”
“I really tried at first, but he flips out at any little thing nowadays. About the only thing he stays coherent enough for is drilling us. I can only take so much of him. Besides, he’s a grown man.”
“Grown man or not, you’re going to help me with this.” Drake continued before Senald could open his mouth to complain. Second to Raker over the engineers, many still found it hard to take orders from Drake because of his age. “Don’t start. Just follow me. This’ll be fun.”
Not like I find it easy giving orders either.
Drake walked away and listened for the footsteps following. Relief sped his steps when he heard them.
Time to wake up, Raker.
* * *
Surrounded by half-naked women, Raker was loving life. The varied and exotic nature of the bathhouse’s workers separated the establishment from any other he had been to.
And I’ve been to plenty.
A beautiful redhead slipped into the tub after removing the little clothing she wore. A long-legged blonde followed. Both rubbed away the tired aches of his body. He smiled.
A dark-skinned brunette joined them and Raker whispered in her ear. Surprisingly, the brunette’s face turned angry. She began shouting. Raker couldn’t figure out why she’d be so upset.
After all, she is a whore.
But the brunette only grew more irate and before long the blonde and redhead joined her.
All three repeated the same two words over and over in unison. “Wake up!”
Raker gave them an odd look. That doesn’t make sense.
The brunette dunked his head under water. He flailed, struggling to breathe until his eyes popped open.
Raker sat up gagging for air. He looked around.
Back in my room. Figures all the good stuff is a dream.
Drake stood a few feet from him with an empty bucket. A few drops of water dripped to the stone floor.
Senald wore a grin. He held another full bucket in his hands. “Is it my turn now, Drake?”
“Not yet. He looks like he’s up.”
“Yeah, I’m up you miserable pieces of trash.” He narrowed his eyes at Drake. “When did you get back?”
“Last night. And I didn’t appreciate being welcomed by this mess,” said Drake gesturing around the room.
“I’m gonna get you for that.” Raker wiped the water from his face. “Senald, hand me my mace.” There was silence. “Senald, I gave you an order.”
“Drake told me not to listen to you on this one.”
“He what?” Raker stood up too fast and pitched to the side, head swimming. He steadied himself on a chair. “Boy, are you crazy? Just wait until this room stops spinning. I outrank you.”
“Not like this you don’t,” said Drake.
Raker heard what sounded like both pity and disgust in the boy’s voice. “Don’t get all preachy on me again. Save your breath for someone who cares.”
“I’ve got too much to do today to argue with you now. Too much of your mess to fix. In the meantime, Senald is going to help you clean this place up and then get you a bath.”
“Bath? What kind of women?” he asked, thinking of his dream.
“None. Not unless you want me to grab Hag.”
Raker’s stomach lurched. “And what if I tell you to kiss off?”
Drake gestured to the wall. “Senald told me what happened. I can put two and two together. The switch on my ballista worked. If you don’t at least do this, I’m hanging that over your head. And I’ll make sure Hag is the first one to know. It’ll spread like wildfire.”
Raker had to hold back a grin. That boy is growing a bigger pair every day.
“Alright. You win.” He reached out a hand. “You mind?”
Drake set down the bucket and came over to help him. Raker took a few steps and paused as he got his bearings. Then his fist came up and connected with the boy’s gut. Raker turned with his other hand and knocked Senald across the jaw. They both crumbled to the ground.
“What was that for?” Drake puffed out as he gasped for breath.
“I said I’d clean up, but I can’t just let you forget your place. It’s good to see you growing a pair but remember, none are bigger than mine.”
“What about me?” said Senald wiping the blood from his lip as he picked himself off the floor.
“That’s for not getting that missile out my wall and then telling Drake what happened.”
“You only told me to take care of the body.”
“Next time, take some initiative. Now, where’s my whiskey?”
* * *
Drake’s throat burned with each breath. He wanted nothing more than to bend over and retch, but the endless press of Kaz didn’t give him the moment he needed. A heavy blow from the blunted practice sword struck the side of his oaken shield and he stumbled back. The vibrations in his arm traveled a
ll the way into his upper back. Drake barely had the chance to wince before the next strike came. He managed to raise his sword in time, deflecting the worst of the attack, but the weapon still managed to scrape across his helm.
“In battle, he might have scalped you, boy,” said Crusher, behind the practice area.
Drake jumped over a series of obstacles placed throughout the practice circle, trying to put some distance between himself and Kaz, but the man followed with ease. Drake couldn’t see an opening in Kaz’s defenses, but he chanced an attack anyway, desperate to do anything to change the course of the fight.
Kaz easily turned away Drake’s blows. Drake dodged the counterstrike and crashed to the ground. He instinctively rolled to his feet, but by doing so, left his shield behind.
“Things ain’t looking good for you, boy. I thought you’d be better by now.” Crusher’s mocking laugh followed.
Drake’s head pounded to the beat of his racing heart, drowning out all other sounds. He clenched his teeth in anger and charged Kaz, hacking away with every bit of energy he had left.
Moments later he lay on his back again, too tired to move. He stared up at the clear night sky, watching the twinkling stars. Drake rolled over and emptied his stomach unto the ground and coughed.
The laughter continued.
“Enough,” said Kaz. “Or I’ll have you running laps around the yard until you’re puking beside him.”
“I was only messing with him,” said the deep throated Ghal. “No harm was meant. Right, kid?”
Drake spat the taste out of his mouth and looked up. He nodded.
“See,” said Crusher. He got up and walked to the outer edges of the training yard, moving on to torment someone else.
Kaz knelt beside Drake. “You alright?”
Drake breathed several deep, ragged breaths. “I will be eventually.”
Kaz looked confused. “You were better before you left. What happened?”
Drake managed a smile. “It’s hard to practice on a ship. And once we got to the school, I was too preoccupied with the texts we found to think of much else.”
Steel And Sorrow (Book 2) Page 11
