Trial And Glory (Book 3)

by Joshua P. Simon

  “I’m from the Quarter District. Joined up last week. Well actually, I got pressured into joining on account of the queen returning with her army.”

  The answer seemed to satisfy the man. He spat. “Same thing happened to my kid brother. He’s barely got whiskers and they’re asking him to hold a spear.”

  “Hopefully your brother won’t see much action.”

  “Hopefully . . .”

  “Well, I really need to find the rest of my squad and—”

  “Don’t worry about that,” said the man, cutting him off. “Orders came in that all men not currently at their posts are to head toward the main gate. The queen is expected to arrive soon. You can fall in with us.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Cassus saluted and dropped in with the others.

  I was going that way anyhow.

  * * *

  Kroke’s arm whipped forward. The knife left his hand, blade slamming into the upper chest of the guard running toward him from a side passage. The body slowed the men trailing behind him, giving Niken and Geran enough time to make the next turn.

  He grit his teeth. That’s another one I won’t get back.

  A spear sailed overhead and clattered against the wall.

  Geran cursed. “We can’t keep doing this.”

  “He’s right,” added Niken. “Cassus has to be long gone by now. And we need to think about getting to the gatehouse ourselves.”

  Kroke had been working the alleys, cutting through side streets in a twisting manner to buy Cassus time. He had already lost seven of his throwing knives just keeping them ahead of the guards. He’d slowly begun working them toward the main gate, but he knew they’d never make it in time to do any good at their pace.

  “We’ll need to split up again,” he said. “It isn’t likely we’ll all make it as we are.”

  “We each take a separate direction, then?” asked Geran.

  “No,” said Niken. “They’ll split themselves too easily to follow after us.”

  Kroke knew where the conversation was heading. “I’ll be one of the two to stay behind.”

  “No,” Niken said. “The only way to lose them is for someone to take the rooftops, and you’ve already proven that you’re the better climber.”

  “But—”

  “He’s right, Kroke,” Geran added. “We’re coming up on Tanner’s Lane next to Marsh’s shop. The alley narrows to half of what it is now. Niken and I can stand back-to-back and hold our ground. We’ll split there.”

  Kroke couldn’t deny their reasoning. He just didn’t want to admit that he couldn’t think of a better solution.

  “Alright. Tell me where to go.”

  “Take the next right, then the second left.”

  No one said anything more as they ran, all afraid to acknowledge the inevitable.

  * * *

  The sergeant had his men jog to the gatehouse. It was all Cassus could do not to vomit on himself. He hadn’t had a need to run such a distance in years. He felt better seeing the rest of the patrol appear as out of shape.

  The sergeant, the only man not out of breath, started splitting his men up based on what he knew about each one. Each person shuffled off, holding their sides from exertion. Cassus did his best to stand tall when the leader looked him over.

  “I’m not sure where to assign you. What’re you good at?”

  “A bit of everything, but my real expertise is in mechanics.” Cassus lied, hoping to enter a conversation that might convince the sergeant to station him at the mechanism for the gatehouse.

  “An engineer? You don’t strike me as one of them. Besides, we got enough of those crazies already. Go see Lieutenant Faro. He’s at the base of the second tower near the main gatehouse. If you’re good at a bit of everything, I’m sure he can find a spot for you defending the walls. We need able bodies most of all. No telling what’s coming at us.”

  Cassus eyed the door leading to the pulleys used for the portcullis. He almost tried a more direct approach with the sergeant but cut himself off when he saw the sergeant glower.

  This isn’t the time to question orders.

  He saluted. “Lieutenant Faro, it is.”

  Cassus ran off. He spared a glance over his shoulder. Sure enough, the sergeant continued to eye him.

  Nothing is ever easy, is it? He thought about his trouble in the alley earlier and how he had been saved by a drunkard. One Above, I could really use one more favor if you have the time.

  He looked around, but nothing changed in the chaos of men prepping for battle.

  Looks like I’m on my own now.

  * * *

  Kroke’s knuckles crunched into ribs as his dagger sunk into the guard’s back. He used more force than necessary and the tip of the blade protruded from the man’s sternum. The poor fool had only been wearing boiled leather.

  He didn’t care.

  Angry at himself for having to leave Niken and Geran behind, Kroke wanted to make people hurt. The last he’d seen of them, they’d stood back to back, drawing swords against dozens coming from either side of the narrow passage.

  Kroke knew that both could fight well, but he also knew it would not be enough.

  He gave his dagger a twist while yanking it free. The body fell next to the first he killed a breath before.

  Even though Cassus had made the point that he wasn’t the kind of person to pull off the look of a guardsman, Kroke pillaged gear to dress himself as one anyway. Only then did he realize he shouldn’t have let his anger get the best of him.

  He eyed the blood on the cloak, and sighed. He slipped it on, knowing he couldn’t afford to travel anymore without one. He wondered how long it will take before someone asked him about the blood.

  And what am I going to say when they ask?

  He set off at a run toward the main gate.

  I guess I’ll just have to kill them too.

  * * *

  “What in the name of the One Above are you doing?” said a voice from behind. A thick hand fell on Cassus’ shoulder, spinning him around. The man staring back at him wore a sneer.

  “I thought I heard someone call my name from below. I was just checking to make sure it wasn’t important.”

  “Do you think I’m an idiot? You were trying to get out of duty, weren’t you?”

  Cassus shook his head. “One Above, no.”

  “Then get back to your post. I got ears like a dog. No one called out. I better not see you sneaking away again, or I’ll shove my fist down your yellow throat.”

  The burly man threw Cassus away from the open stairwell.

  Two more steps and I would have been gone.

  He trudged back to his post, mind racing on how he could get down to the mechanism in the gatehouse. He took his assigned spot at the wall.

  The man next to him chuckled. “The Sergeant caught you trying to duck out?”

  “Huh?”

  “Sergeant Orf. He’s a mean sucker. All about duty and honor. Doesn’t understand those who’d rather be fighting for the bottom of a jug of wine rather than for a worthless piece of stone.”

  Cassus eyed the man as a thought came to him. “So, he got you too then?”

  “Yeah.” The man presented his full face, one eye half-swollen. “Twice. Second time I got this.”

  Well, at least Orf is a man of his word.

  “How’s the sergeant up here?” asked Cassus, pointing at his head.

  “Smart enough to know all the tricks.” The man rattled off a few things that some previously tried in an effort to get around Orf’s guard.

  They’re going about it all wrong.

  Cassus took a chance. “What would you say if I knew a way to get around him?”

  “I’d say good luck.”

  “Would you be interested in getting a piece of the action?”

  “What about the wall?” asked the man, suddenly finding a bit of patriotism.

  Cassus gestured. “Look around. This wall can hold against twice the number
approaching without any problems. They aren’t going to miss two men. What do you say we get out of here before we get a touch of bad luck?”

  The man rubbed his chin and touched his eye.

  “Alright. What’s the plan?”

  Cassus nodded toward the large drum tower to the left. “Who commands there?”

  “Captain Pyk. Almost as bad as Orf.”

  “Perfect. Follow my lead.”

  He left his post, and headed back toward the stairwell. As expected, Orf blocked his path long before he reached the first step.

  “You again? Didn’t I just tell you what would happen if I saw your face again?”

  “Yes, sir, you did. Which is why I didn’t want to come back this way. However, Captain Pyk was adamant that you were the man to see.”

  Orf straightened. “Pyk? What about?”

  “He says that he’s short-handed and needs another squad of crossbowmen to join him in the tower. He wants you to pick them out. Says he doesn’t trust anyone else.”

  Orf puffed his chest out a bit, but even then, the compliment hadn’t been enough. “Short-handed? He’s got—”

  Cassus cut him off. “I’m sorry, Sergeant, but the captain was in a mood. You know how he gets.”

  “Alright. I’ll take care of it. You two should get back to your post.”

  “Sorry, sir,” said Cassus. “We’ve got other orders ourselves. The captain also wants us to go back to Lieutenant Faro.”

  “About what?”

  “Sir, you know the captain would kill me if I told you that.”

  Orf nodded. “Alright. Then get going and hurry back up here.”

  Cassus saluted as Orf took off toward the crossbowmen. Without a second glance, he sprinted down the stairs. Footsteps followed in his wake.

  “That was brilliant. I can’t believe it worked.” The man behind him paused. “But what’s going to happen when he figures out we lied to him?”

  Cassus shrugged. “Who cares? We should be long gone by then.”

  “Good point.”

  Cassus stopped at the bottom of the second flight, one level off the ground.

  “What’re you doing? I thought we were getting out of here.”

  “We are. I just thought it made sense to grab a bit of wine first since none of the taverns are open yet.”

  Cassus put his hand on the door. A sword cleared its scabbard behind him.

  “Orders from Pyk, huh?”

  Cassus hissed a curse, turned, and saw Orf standing behind the man with the swollen eye, sword drawn.

  One Above, he’s quiet.

  “Sorry Sergeant, we was just—” started the other.

  “I know what you were doing. And you’re an idiot for believing him.” His eyes flicked to Cassus. “There ain’t any wine behind that door.” He nodded as if Cassus had given something away. “But you know that don’t you.” His eyes flicked back to the other. “Get upstairs and tell Captain Pyk we found ourselves a spy. I’ll be waiting here for his orders.”

  “Yes, sir.” The man shot up the stairs, taking them three at a time.

  Orf eyed Cassus with disgust.

  “I’m not a traitor. I’m working for the queen. Those stories of her aren’t true,” Cassus tried.

  “I’ll bet.” Orf’s tone indicated that he cared little.

  I won’t be talking my way out of this one.

  His eyes glanced to the grip Orf held on his sword, then up to the man’s eyes.

  And he looks like he knows what he’s doing.

  Orf smiled as if begging Cassus to try something.

  Where’s Kroke when you need him? He swallowed. It’s up to me.

  His hand darted to the sword at his waist.

  * * *

  Soldiers ran to and fro at the base of the wall. Officers shouted orders at no one and everyone. It looked like chaos, and Kroke could not be happier. He knew Yanasi and her men would have their act together. Time spent patrolling walls against empty farmland would never match battle-tested men.

  The frantic activity also allowed him to slip into the commotion relatively undetected.

  He thought himself in the clear until someone charged into him by accident. The soldier started to apologize, then his eyes widened at the blood on Kroke’s chest.

  “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine,” said Kroke. “It’s nothing.”

  He started to walk away when the man grabbed him by the arm.

  “Wait, are you—” the soldier started, cut off by a bellow from behind.

  “Quick,” someone yelled. “There’s fighting on the stairwell. I think I heard someone shout spy.”

  Cassus.

  The soldier eyed the blood on Kroke’s cloak differently than before. Concern turned to suspicion.

  Kroke lashed out, slicing across the man’s throat. He sprinted toward the stairwell, killing two men from behind in the process. He reached the opening, killed another, and managed to close the door before anyone else made it in after him. He bolted the door just as heavy pounding erupted from outside, undercutting the clashing of steel above.

  He charged upward.

  * * *

  Unsurprising to Cassus, Orf turned out to be a dirty fighter, every other stab went for his crotch. Thankfully, he had been around nothing but dirty fighters most of his adult life and had learned from each of them. He spat a wad of phlegm at the sergeant, striking the man in the eye.

  Cassus took advantage of Orf’s distraction. The Sergeant parried the blows, but Cassus gained enough of an upper hand to turn his opponent toward the upper stairwell, blocking off two men that had come down with weapons drawn.

  Now I really wish Kroke was here.

  Each of the newcomers begged a chance to join the fight, but Orf pushed them back on his own accord. Cassus had angered the man too greatly for him to cede defeat.

  Footsteps from below sent a cold chill down to Cassus’ toes.

  He was having enough trouble with one opponent and two more waiting.

  I need to take at least one with me if I’m going to fail.

  Cassus spat again, hoping to anger Orf further. He missed, but had the desired effect all the same.

  Orf roared, attacking with a flurry of sloppy strikes. Cassus took advantage of the man’s lost composure and thrust his sword into the first opening. The blade caught on Orf’s hip bone. He tried to twist the sword free, but Orf’s falling body took the weapon with him.

  The two men waiting on the stairs above rushed forward.

  I’m sorry Elyse.

  Two flashes of steel flew through the air, each thudding into an eye of the soldiers. Both fell twitching.

  Kroke cleared the last step. Cassus started to smile.

  “Quit looking at me like that and open the door, you dope,” said Kroke, drawing two more daggers.

  Cassus blinked as more men came into view from above. He pushed on the door. It creaked open. Cassus slipped inside. Four more men died at Kroke’s feet by the time he looked back toward his friend.

  “Hurry up,” Cassus called.

  Kroke released one more blade, then jumped backward through the opening. They quickly closed and locked the door.

  “Are we in the right spot?” Kroke asked over the pounding door.

  “Yes.” Cassus gestured behind him toward the narrow passageway. “The room for the mechanism should be just up ahead.”

  “Good. Will it be guarded?”

  “There should be a few engineers there.”

  Kroke pushed him aside. “Then let me go first.”

  A few steps and half a turn later, they reached another door. After a knock, two men answered. Kroke killed each before they could say a word.

  They entered the room.

  Kroke barred the door as best as he could manage with what little was available in the small space. Cassus looked over the mechanisms.

  “You know what needs doing?” Kroke asked.

  Cassus nodded, pointing to the pulleys and chains run
ning in and out of the walls and ceiling. “It’s less complicated than it looks.”

  He pulled two levers and pushed on another. Through a small window within one of the walls he watched the portcullis rise. Frantic shouting erupted all around, angry curses wanting to know what was going on. The wheel controlling the main gate was not quite as simple. It took a few moments for both of them to open it. Cassus locked the mechanism in place, rigging it in such a way that it would be nearly impossible to close the gate or lower the portcullis.

  Looking out a small opening, he saw that a clear path into the city waited Elyse’s army.

  And they better not be taking their time.

  A crossbowman suddenly appeared in his line of sight. A bolt flitted through the opening, nearly taking off his ear. He quickly ducked away before another followed.

  Clanging armor stopped outside their door. Pounding began.

  Kroke waited at the entrance, a knife in each hand. One with a bone-white handle Cassus had never seen before. The other he knew well as it had once been Jonrell’s. He smiled recalling how his best friend had given away a family heirloom to befriend a cold-blooded killer. Given all that Kroke had done for the Hell Patrol, Cassus thought the trade wise.

  He grabbed a sword off one of the dead engineers, and took up position next to Kroke.

  “We did it,” said Kroke.

  “We did.”

  “I’ll be honest. I didn’t think we would.”

  “Me neither.”

  The doorframe shook, sending puffs of smoke into the room.

  “I bet you probably didn’t think it would end like this.” Cassus said.

  “I’m not sure if I ever considered how it would end. You ever thought it would be me who you’d be standing by.”

  “Always thought it would be Jonrell.”

  “I think a lot of people did.”

  “Probably so.”

  The door cracked.

  Barking orders and frantic shouting from outside told them that Elyse’s army had arrived.

  We just have to hold out long enough for the army to get inside.

  “Loose!” someone bellowed above, signaling the archers along the wall.

  “Sorry it didn’t work out that way.”

  “I’m not.”

  The door began to split.

  Kroke cocked an eyebrow. “Why is that?”