Trial And Glory (Book 3)

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Trial And Glory (Book 3) Page 43

by Joshua P. Simon


  “Quit trying to be vague. You know who it is, don’t you?”

  “I have an idea.”

  “Then you know that few are better suited for the task.” She looked at the letter in her hand. “Besides, he won’t be alone.”

  Illyan nodded “Alright. I can see your logic.” He grunted. “You know, Amcaro once told me that you could be a great ruler. I apologize for ever doubting him.” He bowed. “Your Majesty, by your leave.”

  “Thank you, Illyan. I’ll see you at dinner in the great hall this evening. Be ready to discuss the opening of the High Pass.”

  “You’re sure of this?”

  “Yes. When the delegates from Thurum arrive, we can work out the details, but there’s no reason why we can’t begin to plan the future of both lands.”

  “As you say.” He bowed once more, and left the room.

  Elyse walked to the window. She read the letter still in her hand once more.

  “I’m going after him. But then again, you probably knew I would. Cassus.”

  Elyse took a deep breath. She had known Cassus would leave, yet that didn’t lessen the ache in her chest or the extra worry in her gut. However, she felt no anger for she knew the decision to be the right one.

  Kroke needs him more than I do.

  She thought of the remnants of the Hell Patrol who had taken up residence in Cadonia after the group disbanded. After all, I at least have other friends here. She looked out over Lyrosene at the tall buildings with swooping rooflines framed by a setting sun. And I have my kingdom.

  She sighed. It will have to be enough.

  Rather than tend to the stack of work she had on her desk, Elyse watched the sun dip below the horizon. As the last of the red sky darkened, a knock sounded.

  “Enter.”

  The door creaked open, and her steward, Gillian, popped his head inside. “Your Majesty, do you have a moment?”

  “Yes, what is it?”

  “You have a visitor.”

  Gillian stepped aside, opening the door wider.

  Elyse’s breath caught in her throat.

  Kaz stepped inside looking anxious, almost jittery, as he held his right arm behind his back.

  Gillian closed the door, leaving them alone. Neither moved, staring at each other.

  Kaz had always exuded confidence, but now he seemed hesitant, almost fearful.

  He cleared his throat. “Your Majesty,” he said, while taking a knee.

  “No!” she said, louder than she intended. “Please, stand up,” she added in a softer voice as she strode over to him. “And call me Elyse.”

  He stood, taking a slow breath that seemed to ease him. A nervous smile formed on his lips. “Elyse.”

  Hearing him speak her name again brought back fond memories Elyse had done her best to suppress. She had only allowed them life at night before bed.

  “I never thought I would see you again.”

  “Neither did I.”

  “What changed?”

  “I’m sure Krytien told you that Hesh has been at peace for nearly a year.” He paused. “I fulfilled my promise to my people. Walor has been every bit the leader I hoped he would be, and despite some early problems, the other clans have finally put the transgressions of my family behind them.”

  “That’s wonderful news.”

  “It is. Walor is even talking about starting trade talks with Cadonia.”

  Her stomach dropped. “Oh. Is that why you’re here?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not. Just information I thought might interest you. During Krytien’s frequent trips, he’s filled me in on how well you’ve done as queen in a time of peace.” He smiled. “I always knew you were fit for the role.”

  She blushed as they paused in an uncomfortable silence.

  Just say it.

  “What is the reason for your visit?”

  “I’m fulfilling another promise.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Kaz revealed the hand he had kept hidden behind his back during their conversation. It held a single flower—a perfect match to the one Kaz had given her long ago when he left Lyrosene to win back her kingdom. She still kept the remains of that flower in a book at her bedside.

  “I said that I would come back.”

  One Above, he remembered.

  Despite a welling of emotions, Elyse didn’t move, couldn’t move, worried that if she did, she might wake.

  Kaz continued. “I’ve never stopped thinking about you.” He took a deep breath. “I know I’m not exactly the same person I was when I left. I’ve lost a wife and gained a son. That is a lot for anyone to accept, and—”

  “Where is your son?”

  Kaz blinked. “He’s with his grandfather and uncle, waiting in the hallway.”

  “Can I meet him?”

  He nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  Kaz opened the door and motioned to someone in the hall. Wiqua and Crusher stepped into view, each holding the hand of a child. Crusher stooped considerably to do so. They smiled at Elyse while handing the boy off to Kaz. Elyse smiled back as Kaz came back inside and shut the door.

  The boy hid behind Kaz’s leg as they walked toward her.

  “He’s a beautiful child.”

  “He favors his mother.”

  “I’m sorry about her death.”

  “I know. Krytien gave me your letter. It . . . meant a lot to me.”

  Elyse bit her lip. What did I tell Illyan? Quit dancing?

  “Do you think I’m the sort of woman she would want to raise her son? The sort of woman she would want to be your wife?”

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  “What do you think?”

  He grinned. “It’s why I’m here.”

  Her eyes began to well. She had not shed a single tear since the promise she made at the High Pass.

  But there is no sorrow in these tears. Only joy.

  She extended her hand, and Kaz took it, squeezing. She returned the gesture before dropping to a knee, face-to-face with Kaz’s son.

  And soon, my son.

  She wiped her cheeks. “My name is Elyse. What’s your name?”

  The boy looked up to Kaz as if waiting for permission. Elyse followed his gaze. Kaz nodded.

  The boy eyed her again and spoke in about the most perfect voice Elyse had ever heard.

  “Jonrell.”

  * * *

  Kroke sat in a clearing, back against a tree, facing a small fire as the sky darkened. He cleaned the last blood from his blade having portioned off the rabbit for his stew. The cast iron pot simmered over the open flames.

  His mount shuffled a dozen feet away while nibbling on grass.

  Pulling a whetstone from his shirt, he paused briefly as a finger brushed against the white cylinder secured against his chest. He snorted.

  Unbelievable that such a plain, dumb looking thing could cause so much trouble.

  He moved the blade across the stone in slow even strokes. Any weariness he felt in his limbs from the hard day of riding ebbed at the methodical task.

  By the light of the dancing fire, Kroke examined the edge of the dagger.

  Perfect.

  He sheathed the blade and put away the whetstone.

  “Are you going to come in by the fire or what? The night’s only going to get colder. Besides, hiding like that might get you killed.”

  A curse sounded in the woods. “Let me go grab my mount,” an exasperated voice called out.

  Minutes later Cassus appeared in the clearing. He tied his horse next to Kroke’s and took a place by the fire, warming his hands.

  “How long have you known?”

  Kroke shrugged. “I realized it was you yesterday.”

  Cassus smiled. “I spotted you the day before.”

  “You’ve gotten better.”

  Cassus inhaled deeply, leaning in near the stew pot. “Smells good. You know, I’ve got some hard bread I picked up from the last town that would be good with it. I’ll go get it.�
�� He walked back to his gear.

  Kroke watched him rummage through his bags, emerging with a round loaf. “Why are you here?”

  Cassus came back to the fire, and sat next to Kroke. “I think it’s pretty obvious. I’m coming with you.”

  “I’m supposed to do this alone.”

  “Elyse never said that. If I recall, it was you who discouraged anyone from coming along, not her.” He paused. “I don’t know why you’re so eager to do this by yourself.”

  “Because it doesn’t matter what happens to me.”

  Cassus frowned. “What are you talking about? You’re family.”

  “Yanasi is commanding Cadonia’s army, and Rygar said they were finally ready to start a family. Krytien’s busy with his students on Estul Island. Drake’s got his head in the clouds, designing and creating anything he can come up with now that Elyse is funding his ideas. Where do I fit in with any of those futures?”

  “You could have gone to Hesh. Raker might be interested in taking on a partner.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind spending a night with a woman, but the last thing I want to do is run a bathhouse. Especially with him. You know how bad he is with money.”

  “What about all those special assignments Elyse gave you? Didn’t she have you eliminate those trying to restart the Assassin’s Guild?”

  “Yeah, that kept me busy for about a month. The others didn’t even last that long. I’ve been idle for nearly half a year.” He paused. “Look, I’m not trying to begrudge anyone for moving on with their lives. The Hell Patrol disbanding might be the best thing for everyone.”

  “Just not you?”

  “Not me.”

  “So, this is just a chance to have another adventure?

  No. This is to ease Elyse’s mind and make a kingdom safe for all the friends I’ve left behind. My family.

  Kroke shrugged. “Something like that.”

  “Liar.” Cassus grinned. “I think the truth is that you’ve gone soft.”

  “What?”

  Cassus chuckled. “Don’t worry. Who am I going to tell?” He paused. “So, how has the beginning of this adventure been? We left Lyrosene a week ago.”

  Kroke sighed. “Kind of boring to be honest.”

  “Why?”

  He nodded to his mount. “He’s not much for conversation. I guess somewhere along the last dozen years or so, I got used to being around people.”

  “More of a reason for me to come along then,” said Cassus as he went over to the fire, and stirred the stew. “It’s almost done, I think.”

  “Why are you here, Cassus? I thought you were happy in Lyrosene, especially since the mighty Hero of Slaves helped open a rapport between Cadonia and the Byzernians.”

  He smiled. “I was, but I wouldn’t have stayed that way. I would have been worried about you. And if I hadn’t left when I did, it’s likely I never would have found you.”

  “So, your reason is not to make sure the scepter is destroyed in case I fail, but to watch my back? To keep me company?”

  Cassus shrugged.

  You and that heart of yours.

  “You know it’s possible we won’t come back from this,” said Kroke.

  “I know. But that’s no different than any other job we’ve had.”

  Part of Kroke wanted to scream at Cassus for wanting to risk everything on his account. However, a larger part of him couldn’t turn down the companionship.

  “Alright. Then you get first watch.”

  “Sounds good.” He took the pot of stew off the fire. “Now, let’s eat. I’m starved.”

  Kroke watched Cassus spoon portions of the stew into bowls near the fire. Cassus started telling a story as he did. It was one from the Hell Patrol’s past involving Hag and Jonrell, playfully bickering back and forth with each other over dinner. Kroke could have stopped him at any moment and finished the thing himself, having memorized every line long ago.

  But what would be the point in that?

  “. . . and then she lifted up her shirt, shaking those things like two sacks of potatoes. One Above, I thought Jonrell was going to lose his dinner from the sight.”

  Their laughter echoed in the night.

  Thank you for reading my story. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a rating or review at the site of purchase as well as other places such as Goodreads and Librarything. Like many other indie authors, I do not have a marketing team working for me and a positive review (even if only a couple of sentences long) can go a long way in enticing others to give my works a try.

  Trial and Glory is my last novel set in this world and with these characters, but that doesn’t mean I’m done writing. I have two separate fantasy series in the works with ideas for many more. If you’d like to know when these will be made available, please consider signing up for my mailing list. It is used solely to announce new releases or other major announcements.

  You can sign up here.

  Thanks again for your support.

  Joshua P. Simon

  About the Author

  Unlike most authors, Joshua did not immerse himself into the world of books as a child. After finishing graduate school, he quickly made up for lost time by buying and devouring countless graphic novels. Remembering his love of the original Conan movies, he moved on to the fantasy genre with the compilations of Robert E. Howard. He was hooked.

  Since then, he has moved on to other authors such as Glen Cook, Joe Abercrombie, George R.R. Martin, Steven Erikson, Paul Kearney, Steven Brust, Peter V. Brett, Patrick Rothfuss and many more.

  Joshua was inspired to write and create his own fantasy world after reading Glen Cook’s Black Company series. Thanks to a vivid imagination, he soon found himself with more ideas than he knew what to do with. After some prompting by his wife, he took the plunge.

  When not writing, Joshua lives a life devoted to God and spends time with his beautiful family. He is employed as an accountant.

  Excerpt of Walk Through Fire - A Prequel Novella in the Blood and Tears Series

  Prologue

  Stepping off the ship and walking down the cluttered streets of Mudhole Bay had felt like entering a new world. Jonrell and his best friend, Cassus, tried to acclimate themselves to the rough way people behaved and the broken speech patterns of the grime-covered town. Yet, even after a change of clothes, they could not shake the mark of being outsiders.

  Stares from the locals followed them wherever they looked for work.

  Jonrell noticed Cassus nervously eyeing the passersby, his thick black hair bouncing with each swing of his head. “Wishing you would have stayed behind?” he asked.

  “The thought had crossed my mind.” A fight broke out in the middle of the street and they skirted around the altercation. “High Mage Amcaro always told us the world was much different outside of Cadonia. I just never realized how different.”

  “It’s not too late to turn back, you know?”

  “Are you going back?”

  Jonrell shook his head. “Not while my father lives.”

  “Then neither am I.”

  Jonrell pointed at a tavern up the street. “Come on. Let’s get a drink.”

  They stumbled into The Orchid, assuming from the name it was a relatively reserved place. Within minutes after sitting at the bar, Jonrell learned that the worst of the worst frequented the bar—many taking issue with new arrivals.

  Three men approached them and Jonrell knew there would be trouble. He tried to smooth things over by offering them drinks. But the men wanted more than a drink.

  Jonrell looked them over and knew a fight could not be avoided. He jumped from his seat and went for the biggest man first, rocking his head back with a punch to the jaw. Cassus kicked another in the groin. The third got a shot in on Cassus, sending him to the ground. Jonrell took out the knee of the first man and then subdued the third with a boot to the gut.

  Cassus rubbed his jaw as Jonrell helped him to his feet. He pushed back his long auburn hair, feeli
ng pretty good about himself and proud of Cassus for taking some initiative. But any reprieve Jonrell hoped they had earned was dashed by the heavy sounds of thudding boots against the raised wooden floor.

  Five men headed their way and four held drawn swords. The fifth was huge, older, and carried himself with a hardness that Jonrell had never seen before. The man needed no sword to be taken seriously. Right away Jonrell knew him as the leader of the group. Expecting more trouble, Cassus drew his own sword and took a step back. The others stopped and readied themselves.

  Jonrell stood his ground, unmoving, as the leader raised a hand, signaling his men to stand down.

  “Why haven’t you drawn your sword as well?” asked the big man.

  “You have the look of a man who’s interested in talking, not killing.” Jonrell noticed the attire of the five standing before him matched the three who groaned on the floor. Blood red.

  The big man grinned wide and nodded. “Why don’t you tell your friend to put away his weapon so we can talk?”

  “Only after your men do the same,” said Cassus over Jonrell’s shoulder.

  The leader shrugged and gave the command to his men. Even with weapons put away, the tension lingered in the air. Jonrell and the leader stared unwavering into each other’s eyes, neither willing to break away first. The man smiled again as if Jonrell had passed some test. He extended his hand. “My name is Ronav. You took out three of my men.”

  Jonrell hesitated then extended his own. “We weren’t looking for a fight, but they wouldn’t leave well enough alone.”

  Ronav laughed. “I bet they didn’t. Few of my men would.”

  Jonrell didn’t know what to say to that.

  “New to Slum Isle then?”

  Jonrell nodded. “Looking for work. We thought we’d try Mudhole Bay first.”

  “Then you’re in luck,” said Ronav, grinning wider. “I’ve got a proposition for you two.”

  Chapter 1

  …Two years later.

  Jonrell, like any other soldier, hated to wait. As a captain in the mercenary Hell Patrol, he filled the time between assignments by drilling his men and pitching in where needed. Even in an encampment of thousands, time seemed to slow as soldiers crept into their routines.

 

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