Steel And Sorrow (Book 2)

by Joshua P. Simon

  He turned at Janik’s gasp. In the mages palm glowed six stones of various colors and brightness. Janik looked up at Drake and swallowed. “We’ve got the orders.”

  “Quit gaping then, and let’s go,” Drake said as he left the lookout spot and went over to a crate filled with small vials of liquid packed in straw.

  * * *

  Yanasi thanked the One Above that Raker had seen the cavalry too. The falling stones, played havoc on their formation, and slowed their approach enough for her to position her men. Grayer had told her to stay out of the fighting, but she quickly defied his orders when she saw the horses.

  She commanded a company of just over four hundred men, mostly bowmen and crossbowmen. When she saw what the wing would face, she ordered her bowmen to drop their weapons and pick up spears. These weapons were not their customary choice, but she had made sure that her men knew how to use them.

  One hundred crossbowmen knelt on the grass before her while an additional one hundred stood behind the spearmen positioned between the two groups. Both lines waited for her signal. A spear rested on the ground in front of her. She stood by her men. Despite the slim chance of survival, she would not let them die alone.

  * * *

  Even though the partially mixed chemicals were harmless in their current state, Drake had not wanted to take any chances with their safety. Janik conveyed the locations of each strike as Drake adjusted the strength of the mixes based on previous instructions. Janik would be the one directing the charges to their destinations.

  Quickly and carefully, Drake mixed the amounts into small clay container. When he finished, eight balls of Nitroglycas lay on the dirt before them.

  “They’re ready.”

  Janik nodded and set the glowing stones down. “Move them to the edge of the opening and then call the distance for me.”

  “Anything else?” asked Drake.

  “Say a prayer to the One Above.”

  * * *

  The flash of blue and red light preceded the first explosion by half a breath. Even the air shook from the blast. Pieces of earth, horse, and man sailed skyward.

  Raker’s jaw dropped. The survivors of Conroy’s cavalry continued, but raggedly and much slower than before.

  Another explosion erupted in the center of Conroy’s V formation. It knocked more than half the men on the field to their backs. A dull ring buzzed in Raker’s ears from the thundering sound.

  Dark smoke enveloped the battlefield, yet he could still spot bits of flesh and battered armor raining down.

  Six more successive blasts followed in the distance. Raker followed the bright light and billowing smoke, realizing it formed a line between Conroy’s reserves and the main battle.

  “Is that the stuff Drake had been working on?” asked Senald, voice filled with wonder and dread.

  “I reckon so,” said Raker.

  A second passed.

  “I believe he got it right,” said Senald.

  “He definitely didn’t have it wrong.”

  Raker couldn’t help but grin.

  That’s my boy.

  * * *

  The explosion came from nowhere and everywhere at once. Others followed, one close by and then several off in the distance. But to Yanasi, the only one that mattered was the first. The remaining cavalry that emerged from the cloud of smoke and dust looked like a unit sent from the One Below. Five hundred knights, covered in black dirt and bits of bright red flesh and blood from their fallen brethren, barreled down on her position.

  Their discipline is amazing.

  She waited until the last possible moment before giving the orders to her men. As she yelled the command, crossbows fired low and high from in front and behind her. The quarrels ripped through the air and sped toward the enemy. Dozens of knights fell, but far too many continued. Her men picked up their spears while the crossbowmen moved back and drew swords.

  She and her men butted the spears into the ground and waited less than two full breaths as the wave of knights crashed into them. Her spear broke in half as it sunk into the exposed chest of a horse. The impact threw her backward, slamming her into the ground. A hoof stomped her leg and she screamed as the bone cracked. The leg of another mount kicked her in the helm and she rolled.

  Yanasi’s head swam and she struggled to focus. A warmth flowed down her face, over her left eye, and into the corner of her mouth. She tasted blood. Through her blurry vision she saw her men fight valiantly, even killing many of the mounted knights. Despite being at a disadvantage, they refused to give in.

  She crawled to her knees, the pain from her leg coursing through her body. She bit her lip and tried to ignore it. She had an obligation to her men.

  Her bow had fallen off her back, but it lay a few feet away. She half-crawled, half-dragged herself to it. Despite the rush of horses, and the careless trampling of animal and men, it remained unscathed.

  She drew an arrow from her quiver, and with the bow in her hand, the pain subsided. Hobbling on one leg, her focus returned. She knew at any moment a sword could swipe her head off, but she didn’t care.

  One. Two. Three arrows. Three kills. Several more followed all within a matter of seconds. A blood curdling scream came from her right and she turned as a mounted knight charged her while swinging a mace over his head. Yanasi raised her bow, but froze. In all the excitement, in her need to exact punishment on others, she had forgotten about Rygar.

  A lump caught in her throat and her arms shook. She didn’t want to die. She wanted to be with Rygar. Yet as the knight grew closer, all she could do was stare death in the eyes and wait.

  Another horse slammed into the knight and the two riders tumbled to the ground. The collision jarred Yanasi from her stupor.

  Grayer rolled around with the much younger knight.

  He saved my life.

  Yanasi watched as the knight pulled a dirk and stuck Grayer through his ribs before rolling the old general off him. She reached back for an arrow, but found her quiver empty. Yanasi hobbled over and swung her bow out, cracking it on the side of the knight’s face. She came back around and did it again, this time breaking the black wood in half. Without his helm, the knight’s eyes rocked backward and he fell to the ground. She picked up the mace the knight had dropped, almost collapsing under its weight with just one leg to stand on. She redistributed her load and with one heave, destroyed the man’s face.

  She knelt next to Grayer as the old general clutched at his chest. Blood seeped through his fingers. His breathing was short and rapid.

  He looked at her sternly. “You didn’t follow my orders, Captain.”

  She started to cry. “No, sir. I didn’t.”

  His expression softened. “I’m glad for it. You bought me enough time to bring up our reserves.”

  She looked around and saw Conroy’s cavalry overwhelmed with Grayer’s reserves.

  “You saved the wing, General. You’re a hero.”

  He chuckled and winced. “On a day like today, there are many heroes. My name doesn’t need to be one of them. I’m just a soldier doing his job.”

  The general’s hand went limp and his eyes faded. Yanasi started to sob as the sound of battle faded.

  * * *

  “One Above!” cried Markus. “What sort of sorcery was that?”

  “That was not sorcery,” answered Conroy, his voice barely a whisper.

  “Then what was it?”

  Conroy swallowed. The explosions had shaken more than just the land. They had shaken his soul. “Nitroglycas. An extremely rare and volatile compound. Only a High Mage has the power to work the stuff.”

  “Then how could they have it? There aren’t any more High Mages.”

  I don’t know. With one explosion, I could have believed that they somehow discovered something that had belonged to Amcaro. But eight? The High Mage would have never been so careless to make so many.

  “Are you listening to me? What do we do?” asked Markus.

  Conroy blinked away
his thoughts and raised the spyglass once again. Through the dust and smoke, he saw glimpses of the battlefield. His cavalry charge had been turned back and Kaz’s wings had closed in on the sides of his troops. One of the explosions had rocked the center of the V formation, turning it into shambles. He could not blame his soldiers for breaking. No one had used Nitroglycas in hundreds of years. He never thought to prepare them for that possibility. In fact, if he hadn’t read so much history, he would have been as shocked as Markus.

  “Conroy! We have to do something. Should we send in our reserves?”

  “No,” he said in a heavy voice, still scanning the struggle through his spyglass. Parts of his army had begun to flee or surrender. He couldn’t send in his reserves even if he had wanted to. The last six explosions destroyed much of the terrain and a giant crevasse separated his position from the main battle.

  Even if I tried to march our reserves around that, we would be sitting ducks for their engineers. And then what? By the time the reserves reached the main engagement, it would be too late.

  “We can’t just give up.”

  “We can and we will.” Conroy handed the spyglass over to Markus. “See for yourself. Kaz has seized control of the battle.”

  “What is the matter with you? You act as though the devil has won,” said Markus. “We still have time to retreat to your palace in Segavona where we could hold out during a siege.”

  “No. He’s won. Don’t you see? If he has any more Nitroglycas, our walls would be useless. We would only prolong the inevitable.” He let out a heavy sigh. “He is the better commander.” He is Victas come again. “We need to give ourselves over to the queen.”

  Markus threw down his spyglass. “Are you mad? We’ll be hanged for treason!”

  “So be it,” said Conroy. “We must accept the consequences.”

  “No. You can accept the consequences. I’m taking the rest of my men and leaving. I’ll leave this dump of a country if I must, and carve out a kingdom elsewhere. But first, I’ll burn Lucartias to the ground, if only so no one can have it.”

  Why am I not surprised? Perhaps I could have won if I had stronger allies. But then, no one else understood what I meant to do.

  Conroy frowned. “I can’t let you do that.”

  Markus withdrew his sword as did the two aides who flanked him. “You don’t have a choice.” Markus nodded behind Conroy and when he turned saw that two of Markus’s men had moved up behind him. One held a crossbow in his hands. Olasi’s son smiled. “I never did trust you.”

  To Conroy’s surprise, one of the men whipped out two knives and felled the aides flanking Markus. The man with the crossbow aimed it at Olasi’s son.

  The soldier who threw the knives had another in his hand that he pointed at Conroy as a warning. Conroy understood with one glance he had little chance of taking the man. He recognized a professional when he saw one.

  “You ain’t going anywhere,” said the man with the knife. “Rygar, shoot Markus if he does anything other than drop his sword to the ground. Aim for his gut. The duke thinks death by hanging is bad. A rope is a blessing over a wound to the stomach that takes hours to bleed out. You can trust me on that,” said the man as he eyed Markus.

  Markus dropped his sword.

  “Good,” said the man with the knife. “You ain’t as dumb as I thought you were last time we met.”

  Markus’s eyes widened. “The queen’s bodyguard?”

  “Former bodyguard. I’ve got my old job back.”

  “And what’s that?” asked Conroy.

  “Professional killer,” said the man in an icy tone. He nodded to a group of soldiers heading their way with weapons drawn. “I’d call off your men if I were in your position. Things usually get ugly when I feel threatened.”

  Conroy signaled his men to stay back. Markus did the same.

  “Why not kill us now?” Conroy asked.

  “If I had it my way, I would. But, I’m sure certain people would like to have a word or two with you. But if you’d like to try your luck, go for it.” He grinned. “Now stay still. This’ll be over soon enough.”

  The man gestured toward the battlefield where shouts of victory replaced the cries of battle.

  Chapter 38

  Tobin listened half-heartedly as each of his councilors gave their reports. Still reeling from the impact of Nachun’s words weeks ago, he had been going through the motions of being a ruler since his return to Juanoq. Thankfully, he had done well in choosing the men around him, and at least in the near term, his lands ran themselves.

  A messenger relayed a report from Walor that arrived earlier that morning. The rulers of the Red Mountain Clan had quickly sworn fealty to Tobin. However, pockets of resistance in both the Red and Green Clan’s territory remained. Walor would need time to eliminate those factions before returning to Juanoq.

  The messenger finished the report, then pulled out another. “Warleader, we also received more word from Nubinya.”

  “Save it for our next meeting.”

  The messenger cleared his throat. “Warleader, this message is over a month old. You’ve put it off for some time already.”

  “Fine. What does Durahn want?”

  “He assures you that Nubinya is stable. He wishes to return to Juanoq.”

  Tobin chuckled. “I’m sure he does.” Getting him out of Juanoq was one of the best decisions I ever made.

  “Shall I write up a reply?”

  “No. It won’t be necessary. Anything else?”

  “No, Warleader.”

  “The meeting’s adjourned.”

  * * *

  Tobin woke up screaming. When he stopped he could barely swallow through the rawness in his throat. He sat up and tears flowed uncontrollably down his face. He had lain down on the palace’s roof to examine the stars and had fallen asleep. He dreamed of his mother. For the first time he saw her face—every detail, including the hollow eyes staring back at him and the small trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth. Her neck was angled in an awful way as her body rested on the ground, arms to her sides.

  He had no idea how she had gotten like that. Everyone in his personal life had refused to discuss her with him and he quickly learned not to bring up her memory.

  All his life he tried to remember his time with her and never could.

  For the first time since Nachun had healed him, Tobin dreamed of his early youth. He was foolish to think that the shaman had rid him of his nightmares.

  He sobbed. How did she end up like that?

  He screamed again, angry that he didn’t know the answer to the question.

  Lucia’s voice called out from behind. “Tobin? Are you alright?”

  He wheeled as she hurried toward him. He quickly turned away and wiped frantically at his face with his palms. “What are you doing up here? It’s well past midnight.”

  Her footsteps slowed. “I couldn’t sleep and thought I would grab some fruit from the kitchen. I heard a scream and recognized your voice.” She knelt beside him and rested a hand on his shoulder. He tried to avert his gaze, but she urged him toward her. “Please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  He looked up, feeling ashamed. “It’s nothing. Just a bad dream.”

  She cupped his face with her hands and stroked his cheeks with her thumb. Tobin saw the tears forming in Lucia’s eyes as she did her best to smile.

  “Why do you cry?” he asked.

  “Because I understand.”

  Lucia’s hands slid behind Tobin’s head and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She leaned in and kissed him with the tenderness he had always dreamed of. It happened so suddenly that it took Tobin a moment to respond. His arms enveloped her, pulling her tight against his frame. He felt her take a quick intake of breath and for a moment worried that he had gone too far. But Lucia’s kisses grew more passionate. Tobin’s heart raced in the still night air.

  Am I still dreaming?

  * * *

  The heat of the warm morning sun tickl
ed Lucia’s bare skin, causing her to stir from her slumber. Her head rose up and down on her husband’s chest with each breath he took. She grinned and opened her eyes.

  No. Not Kaz.

  She looked up at Tobin’s peaceful face as he lay asleep.

  What have I done?

  Lucia had lied to Tobin the night before. She had not been hungry. It had been the anniversary of her first meeting with Kaz and she couldn’t bear to look at his empty place in their bed. When she had heard Tobin’s screams and later saw the pain in his face, her heart had ached to help him. Of all people he understood her own loss better than anyone, having lost all that had been dear to him.

  Friends. Family. And a lover.

  The helplessness in Tobin’s eyes had also reminded her of the part of Kaz that no one else ever saw. Seeing Tobin do the same had raised emotions she hadn’t felt for him before.

  The sun shone brightly over Tobin’s dark skin as her eyes ran down and back up his nakedness.

  He is so similar to Kaz. Is it wrong to be doing this?

  She sat up slowly and moved away from Tobin as she dressed, careful not to wake him. She struggled with a whirl of emotions.

  Lucia couldn’t deny that she felt something more for Tobin than she had before, but Kaz’s presence still hung heavily over her.

  But everyone keeps telling me he’s dead. I need to move on. And Tobin is a good man. She watched a soft smile form on Tobin’s lips as he slept. Even such a small gesture reminded her of Kaz. Is that it? Do I only care for him because he reminds me of Kaz? She shook her head, confused.

  Before they drifted off to sleep last night, Tobin mentioned them having an early dinner together today.

  Lucia tiptoed away from Tobin with that on her mind. She needed time to sort through her feelings.

  * * *

  Jober opened his eyes to a harsh beam of sunlight striking his face. He sprang out of bed, panicked. He was late.

  His wife sat up as he began to frantically dress. “What’s wrong?”

  “Something’s not right. Lucia’s usually here by now for her daily trip to the market.”