“Well,” said Cassus after a short silence. “That does change things.”
“Why?” asked Rygar. “Krytien killed Nareash. Wasn’t the High Mage the only one who knew how to use it?”
“No. In my research of how to destroy the thing, I learned that any mage can use it. Some just won’t be as powerful as others.” She paused. “At first. Over time, a beginner could wield enough power to rival Nareash. That is if they don’t go crazy first.”
“So, one of the yellow-robes you left there could be something much more now?” asked Rygar.
She nodded. “It’s possible. We don’t know how long it’s been since Gauge discovered the scepter, only how long since he announced it to the kingdom. We also don’t know if he’s even given a mage access to it.”
Kroke grunted. “You’re not expecting us to win, are you?”
“No.”
“Thanks for the warning,” said the assassin.
She hung her head. “I’m sorry. But this is too important for us not to try anyway. A mage wielding the scepter could destroy the kingdom we’ve worked so hard to defend.”
Yanasi bent over the map before her. “So, to take the gatehouse we’ll have to come in from here and here,” she said pointing. “I’m thinking if we position Janik and Lufflin here while Nora oversees the lesser mages here, they can—”
“I thought you said attacking the gatehouse wasn’t an option,” Elyse said, cutting her off.
“It wasn’t an option before, but things have changed. We can’t worry about casualties. We need to worry about hitting them hard and fast and hope we might overwhelm them.” She paused. “Let’s keep the nature of the scepter to ourselves. Some might not be as motivated as we are knowing what they might have to face.”
I definitely made the right choice with her.
Elyse nodded, heart heavy to put Yanasi in such an awful position, knowing that the woman had wanted to leave such hopeless situations behind her.
Yanasi continued outlining her plan. Faces around the map remained grim.
“. . . and at this point, I’ll lead in the remaining forces myself as we—”
“No,” said Kroke, cutting her off.
Yanasi looked up. “No?”
“Let someone else do it.”
“This is my army. I won’t leave the most crucial part of my plan to someone else.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“It’s the only way we might be able to break in.”
“I can get the gate open another way.”
“You’re not even at full strength yet.”
“Close enough.”
Yanasi frowned. “I know why you want to do this.”
“Want has nothing to do with it,” said Kroke, gaze averted.
Elyse tried to follow the exchange, but felt as she was missing an unsaid layer of the conversation.
Yanasi’s face went slack of emotion. “No. You’ll just throw your life away.”
Kroke faced Elyse. “You can overrule her.”
“Your Majesty—” started Yanasi.
Elyse raised a hand and addressed Kroke. “Explain your plan.”
He pointed to the map. “If I leave now, I can reach the postern gate before morning. It won’t be as heavily guarded, and given the way the tower is situated, I should be able to scale the wall unnoticed. Once inside the city, I can disguise myself as a member of the watch, take this route along the eastern wall, raise the portcullis, and drop the gate. If I time it right, you should be able to march right inside without breaking stride.”
“Kroke, you’re good, but you’re not that good,” said Cassus. “You need a small squad to accomplish what you’re trying to do, someone to act as a decoy should you be discovered.”
“No.”
“Maybe if you take Janik with you,” offered Elyse.
“No,” said Cassus and Kroke simultaneously. Cassus finished the thought. “A mage isn’t accustomed to working under those circumstances. At least not without sorcery which would only draw attention.”
“My entire job is sneaking around,” said Rygar.
“No,” Yanasi said.
Kroke agreed. “That’s only part of it. You’re good with a bow, but most of what needs doing will be close and dirty.”
“I’m coming.” Cassus faced Kroke. “And before you argue, I know there’s liable to be a lot of killing. I don’t like it, but I can do it. Besides, if anyone has a chance at portraying a guardsman to open the gate, it’s me.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you move like a killer, not like a man trying to do a job.”
“Fair enough.”
“That’s only two,” said Elyse.
“I say we should only take two more,” said Cassus.
“Who?”
“Niken and Geran,” Kroke blurted. “I know they’re part of your Royal Guard, but they helped us get out of Markus’ dungeons. I know what they can do.”
“Won’t they run the risk of being recognized?” Cassus asked.
“Not likely. The Royal Guard interacts little with the regular army. I’ll tell them that they should only answer to you.”
“Well, we better get started,” said Kroke.
Elyse went to ask Yanasi about the timing of the advance with Kroke and Cassus. However, she had stormed out of the tent.
“I’ll talk to her,” offered Cassus.
* * *
The last to leave, Kroke had a foot out the tent when Elyse called him.
“Wait,” she said, walking closer.
“Yes?”
“I just realized that you never told me why you didn’t stay with the rest of the Hell Patrol. I thought it was because of your injuries, but I think it had to do with Yanasi and Rygar. Am I right?”
“They deserve to have a good life together.”
“So, this plan . . . it’s to try to give them a better chance at happiness.”
“In part.”
“What’s the other part?”
“Kaz wanted me to watch after you. He still wants the best for you.” Elyse flinched. Kroke ignored it, and continued. “I know you loved him. Perhaps you still do, I don’t know. I just know you’ve been through a lot and you probably feel like you don’t have much to look forward to except for getting your kingdom back. So, part of why I’m doing this is for Yanasi and Rygar. The other part is for you. You deserve a chance at happiness as much as they do.”
Elyse’s face softened. For a moment Kroke thought she might cry, but her mask returned, and no tears came. “Thank you. It . . . means so much to me that you would even consider that.”
Kroke laughed. “I don’t know why. You may not be Hell Patrol, but you’re close enough.”
She frowned. “What about you and Cassus?”
“What about us?”
“Don’t you deserve a chance at happiness?”
“Cassus does. I’ve never met a man with a greater heart. Jonrell would agree. I’d like for him to stay behind, but he knows what he’s getting into.”
“And you?”
Kroke thought about the family who turned their backs on him, then about the crush he had on Elyse and how stupid it had been. He thought about the friends he left behind and how he might never see them again. A lump formed in his throat that he quickly cleared.
“Maybe I got what I deserved.”
“You can’t believe that.”
He shrugged. “Why not? And if that’s the case, so what?” He remembered how at peace he felt when he thought Kaz and Elyse might end up together. Or how happy he felt when thinking about the family Yanasi and Rygar might have one day. “I’ll just have to make sure others enjoy the happiness I won’t have.”
He spun and left, refusing to give Elyse a chance to say more. He rubbed his eye. He’d always hated goodbyes.
* * *
“Go away.” Yanasi sat on the outskirts of camp.
Cassus sighed as he sat next to her. “It doesn’t become a general
to pout, especially when she’s got an army to prepare.”
She punched Cassus in the gut. He hadn’t been ready for it and fell, choking for air. After a moment, he sat up wheezing.
“What was that for?” he asked between breaths.
“That’s for being an idiot. Kroke going on a suicide mission is one thing. That’s something he’s always done. But you joining him is another. What are you thinking?”
“I was thinking that my friend needs someone to watch his back. There’s no way I’m going to leave that up to a couple of Elyse’s guards, regardless of how well he knows them.” He paused. “You know, part of why he’s doing this is for you.”
“I know. That doesn’t make it any better of a plan or easier to take.”
“Better than the one we had before. No offense, your tactics were sound, but without greater numbers, the chance of success was slim.”
“And if you and Kroke fail, it only means you’re going to die that much sooner than the rest of us.” She swung at Cassus, but he was ready. “One Above, I just got you back. How much of my family am I going to lose? Jonrell. Hag. Kroke. You.”
He slipped his arm around Yanasi, and held her close. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it out alive. I promise.”
“I’ll kill you myself if you don’t.” She wiped her tears on her sleeves. “C’mon, I want to look over your armor before you go. I won’t have you go on a suicide mission wearing inferior gear.”
Cassus smiled as they headed back to the center of camp. “When did you start treating me like a child?”
“When you started making bone-headed decisions.”
“So, always?”
Yanasi allowed herself a grin. “Yeah. Pretty much.”
Chapter 27
Mawkuk and Durahn took longer than Tobin expected to begin the next phase of their assault. More than a week had passed since they’d taken the towers, yet the enemy’s forces had stayed well away from the city.
Tobin watched the invading army trek off into the jungle over and over and return with dozens of freshly cut logs. Tobin had a general idea how the enemy would approach the city, but even as he watched their ranks form, he could not figure how the massive structure resting on the road factored into those plans.
A long, wooden ramp angled away from Juanoq’s walls rested on a flat base with giant wheels. Triangular walls made up the structure so Tobin could not see in from the side. He thought the structure might emulate a large mantlet for Mawkuk’s soldiers to hide behind. However, the ramp did not have holes slotted for archers.
What are they hiding?
A rider moved up and down the enemy ranks. Tobin recognized Durahn. The Kifzo looked as big as the horse he rode.
“Teznak.”
“Yes, Warleader.”
“It’s almost time. See that the men keep the braziers fed and stoked.”
Teznak bowed and ran off.
Tobin faced the senior Kifzo. “Are all the cranes operating as they should?”
“We tested each of them this morning,” said Kerek.
“Good. Make sure a senior Kifzo oversees each one. I want you over the gate.” He gestured toward the enemy’s large ramp. “I presume they’ll use that to assault the gatehouse.”
“You honor me.”
Kerek smiled in a way Tobin had seen many times among the Kifzo. It spoke of a man eager to fight.
* * *
Mawkuk walked through the lines of his men, examining their readiness. Men saluted him at every turn. They appeared confident, and most importantly, they looked eager.
Even in his youth, Mawkuk had not been known for his physical presence, but that hadn’t stopped him from wishing he could join the army.
Especially on a day like today. If only to be there when they reach Tobin.
He had placed a bounty on the warleader’s head—enough gold to weigh even the largest of men down with its burden. Mawkuk wanted Tobin alive. He wanted to hold a dagger to the Kifzo’s eye, and watch the blood trickle down his face just as Tobin had done to him before taking Odala and Soyjid as hostages.
Mawkuk doubted Tobin would allow himself to be taken alive. He had decided to be satisfied with the warleader’s head—a skull to mount over his gnarled driftwood throne.
An aid handed him the reins to his mount. He climbed into the saddle as Larnak rode toward him.
“The men look ready,” said the Yellow Clan leader.
“Yes. Gray, Yellow, or Orange. Colors and clans make no difference today. They can all see the goal is in sight.”
Larnak gestured with a nod of his head as Durahn came sweeping around the left flank atop his mount. He slowed.
“I hope you’re both hungry,” said the large Kifzo. “Tonight I’ll be throwing a feast in my new palace.”
“At a time like this, food is the last thing on my mind,” said Larnak.
Durahn faced Mawkuk. “And you?”
“Revenge is the only thing that will satiate my appetite. After you take the city, then we can talk about celebrating.”
Durahn shook his head. “I come here speaking of our spoils, and all you do is sour my mood. I don’t know why I bother.” He rode off.
They watched the Kifzo move to the front ranks where he began shouting at the men.
“Do you think his plan will work?” asked Larnak.
Mawkuk stared at the giant wooden monstrosity casting a shadow over a quarter of their forces. The structure stood forty feet high. “It’s inventive if nothing else. I don’t see how Tobin could have planned for it. And in just the last few days, I have to admit that Durahn’s done wonders in restructuring the men for this phase of the siege.”
“You still haven’t answered my question. Will it work?”
Mawkuk squeezed the reins. “Yes,” he whispered.
It has to.
* * *
Few along the walls spoke in the early morning light. Anticipation filled the still air.
Anticipation is the hardest thing to deal with. The longer the wait, the more likely you’ll think of things you have no business dwelling on before a battle.
Tobin had been thinking about Lucia and his unborn child. He wondered what would become of his relationship with them after Mawkuk’s fruitless endeavor ended.
Can I have the relationship with my child I always wanted with my parents?
A flash of his mother’s body at the time of her death came to mind.
Perhaps I shouldn’t know my child. Like everything else important in my life I’d likely ruin it.
Fingers pointed as the wooden structure creaked forward along the main road. The slow lurching of Durahn’s creation refocused Tobin on the task at hand.
The towers still in Tobin’s possession began attacking the slow-moving monstrosity once it came into range with arrow and javelin. Warriors in Mawkuk’s ranks not tasked to pushing or pulling the creation, continued their advance well outside of the tower’s range. They carried makeshift rafts while others maneuvered long tree trunks atop pushcarts. Farther back, ladders bounced up and down on the shoulders of assault troops.
They’ve been busier than I thought.
Warriors came to a halt some distance away from the moat. Men who carried the rafts moved far to Tobin’s left, waiting while others removed the long logs from the wagons. The raft and log units advanced separately, working toward multiple areas of attack.
Tobin spared a quick glance to the ramp crawling forward amidst a hail of flaming arrows from the towers. The structure suffered no noticeable damage.
“Warleader, should we redistribute any of the men near the gate?” asked Teznak.
“No,” said Tobin. “All men are to hold their current positions. Run ahead and tell the archers to loose when Mawkuk’s men are in range.”
“Fire arrows?” asked Teznak.
“Yes.”
The captain ran, shouting orders to those armed with long and cross bows. Tobin followed more slowly so he could gauge the enemy’s advance wh
ile monitoring the mood of his men.
Archers congregated near the braziers, stabbing burning coals with their arrow points. Warriors loosed their arrows in clusters. The blurs of blue shafts, smoking red at their tips, sailed through the air, punishing the enemy. Watching the mix of Kifzo, regular army, and the watch work as one brought Tobin a level of satisfaction he had not expected.
Most of my best might be with Walor, but these are by no means without skill.
Though some arrows sank into the open ground, many thudded into wooden logs and rafts. Tobin had hoped the hot coals would ignite the wood. However, the glowing tip of each arrow did nothing more than tease him.
The wood is too fresh. And I wouldn’t be surprised if Durahn soaked it before advancing.
Tobin turned back to his messengers. “Get word to stop wasting the coals. Switch back to normal arrows for now.”
The rolling ramp continued its journey with little fanfare other than the creak of its large wheels.
Mawkuk’s men placed their rafts into the wide moat. Tobin expected men to foolishly board the rafts and attempt to steer them to the opposite embankment. Instead, warriors hammered long strands of rope to the ground and tied them to the first row of rafts. Once secured, men boarded the crafts with more rafts in hand and tied them to the first set while men with wide shields stood over them.
I never thought Durahn was that creative.
Teznak arrived, out of breath. “Warleader, the men want to know if they should use the cranes.”
“Not yet. Durahn doesn’t know about them. Let him think that he only needs to worry about the arrows. Tell the captains that the cranes are not to be used until all of the rafts are connected, and the enemy begins crossing the moat in full force.”
Teznak conveyed his orders.
Enemy arrows arched over the wall, whizzing by Tobin’s head. He ducked under the projectiles, watching those carrying logs stop near the opposite side of the moat. They placed one end of the poles into the ground and then walked the long tree trunks into a vertical position. The first of the logs crashed down over the moat, bridging the gap between banks.
Trial And Glory (Book 3) Page 30
