CHILD OF DESTINY (The Rising Saga Book 1)

by M. K. Adams

  “The king only knows where Lyvanne was at the time of her exchange with the other warlock and they wouldn’t be able to track her if we fled,” He had argued, but Shri’ook had turned him over to the other way of thinking. Lyvanne had done what she did because she didn’t want people dying in Astreya on her behalf.

  “We can’t argue with that wish, and if the king’s soldiers arrive to find no one here then they would just start all over again until Lyvanne reveals herself,” Shri’ook had said firmly.

  So instead, they had agreed that they all face the threat together, and by hook or by crook the rest of the camp had agreed, claiming that this was what they had signed up for in the first place. Now that the moment was here, the glimmering banners in the distance caused him to doubt.

  He knew that everyone was ready for the fight; they had trained for more than enough years now. But what this day meant for the larger picture in The Rive sent butterflies tumbling in his stomach. If blood and flame did encircle the camp over the next few days then it would be the first time that a non-state actor from within the Rive had risen up in armed rebellion against the king’s army in centuries. There would be no going back and everything he had worked towards since leaving the king’s Castle would be on the line.

  There was also the nagging worry that the fate of those in Astreya might not be so easily fixed. Lyvanne letting in the king’s warlock had been more significant than even she realised. Not only did she draw out the king’s forces, but if the king was smart enough to realise then she also exposed one of her weaknesses: her empathy.

  Turiel’s heart beat faster as he contemplated the ramifications. If she was willing to expose herself to save strangers living in a distant city, then she would be the king’s to control if he found any kind of leverage over her.

  Turiel pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. Concerns for another day he told himself as he pulled his horse off the road and deep into the fields and hills that ran adjacent.

  • • •

  Jocelyn raced back towards camp. Her mind swam with worry for Turiel. They had finally come together in a way that should have happened a long time ago, and he’d immediately been put in harm’s way. Deep down, she knew that he was more than capable of looking after himself, especially when there was no intention to fight. But being that close to the king’s soldiers when he was all alone filled her with dread. She had been riding for just shy of half the day when the sun began to hide behind a dark grey cloud that covered most of the sky. The woods were coming into view as she galloped through a grassy meadow that bordered the tree line off in the distance.

  Get in, warn them, and get back out she told herself as her horse neared the edge of the woodland. She didn’t intend to stay here long, not whilst Turiel was out there on his own, she couldn’t in good conscience.

  She dismounted her horse as it slowed down to a canter at the edge of the trees, passing the reigns off to an unsuspecting patrolman. “Bring her back to the camp for me!” She shouted as she darted off into the trees, knowing that she would be quicker on foot trying to navigate the trees.

  “What’s happening?” The patrolmen shouted after her, his words falling on deaf ears.

  The woods were thick with people, some gathering firewood for that night, others collecting water. She studied them as quickly as she could whilst darting towards camp. Did they have what it took to battle the king’s soldiers in numbers? You have to hope, she told herself, and we’ve already lost if we don’t hope.

  “What’s going on?” Kwah called across to Jocelyn as she broke into the camp with some speed.

  “King’s army, they’re coming. Maybe a day, two days out,” she shouted back across the camp, loud enough for everyone to hear. There was no point hiding this from them, everyone deserved to know at the same time.

  “Damn,” Kwah said as he started moving people to previously assigned jobs. “Everyone you know the drill, we work as though we have one day before they arrive, I want everything in place by then.”

  Jocelyn called after him, “Kwah, I’m going back out there.”

  “Why?”

  “Turiel has gone to scout them. He said we’d need to know how many there are.”

  “He is right, but you stay here,” Kwah said, surprising Jocelyn who made to continue towards where the horses were kept regardless of his order. “Jocelyn! We need you here, not out there looking for Turiel. He will be fine, he knows what he’s doing.”

  Jocelyn turned, ready to argue her case, but then she saw her standing no more than a metre away from Kwah. “Lyvanne,” The word almost seemed to trickle out of her lips. Her heart was torn.

  • • •

  Turiel crept over the hillside; his horse tied up at the foot of the hill so as to avoid it making any noises or movements that might give him away. He’d been able to hear the enemy before he saw them, their footsteps falling heavy on the North Road and their armour and weapons rattling with each step like a cacophony of war and death.

  As he reached the summit, he pressed his brown and green tunic into the grass and began crawling. It was slow work, but the hill would give him a good view of the North Road below.

  Turiel cursed when he saw the throngs of soldiers marching along the road. Steel plated armour of green and silver glimmered under the few strands of sun that hadn’t been covered by the overlooking clouds. Ten, twenty, thirty… in total Turiel reckoned he could see at least sixty or seventy men, all heavily armed and ready for battle. At the front of the column was a sole soldier riding on horseback, a rapier hung around his waist where otherwise there would have been a long sword. Turiel racked his mind back to the days of talking war and politics with his father as he studied the decorative shoulder-wear that indicated the officer’s rank. If his memory served him correctly the two red stripes and one white indicated a Major in the king’s Army, which meant that the men following behind was likely an entire company.

  This isn’t looking good, Turiel thought. At best they were outnumbered and out-matched in armaments, at worst they were fighting an entire Company who were experienced in the field together.

  • • •

  Jocelyn found herself in the Annex alongside Tublik, Shri’ook and Kwah. Not so much through choice but out of necessity. With Turiel currently occupied, they had requested her to stand with them in his stead. Apparently, her name carried more weight than she realised.

  “I’ve sent Ives and Togo out to scout the surrounding area. If Turiel can make it back and let us know their numbers then Ives and Togo will let us know when they’re here,” Kwah said as the four of them scrambled to make preparations. “Unless Turiel comes back and tells us that we’re hopelessly out matched then we stay and fight, or risk the king turning his wrath onto innocents in the cities.”

  “I’ll take half,” Tublik said, referring to what Jocelyn assumed was half of their companions. “Run through final drills, training, make sure they’re ready. Kwah, you good to take the other half?”

  Kwah nodded his acceptance. Slow progress had started on plans and general defences the moment that they’d found out the king would be coming for them, but now was the time to really start the cogs turning.

  “Jocelyn, we need you to look after the girl,” Shri’ook said in his ever regal manner.

  “Surely you want me in the thick of it? I’m one of the best fighters we have,” Jocelyn replied.

  “As much as I would like to have you fighting by our side, Lyvanne is the only person among us who cannot protect herself and as we are all quite fond of the girl I am eager to give her the best protection we can afford to spare.”

  Jocelyn nodded. She wasn’t entirely pleased with the concept of leaving the others behind to do the fighting, but she knew that what Shri’ook was saying was right.

  “Good. I shall make preparations with our defences, I will take as few people as possible with me, the rest I leave with the both of you,” Shri’ook continued, nodding at Tublik and Kwah. “Make sure they
are ready to fight, none of them will have seen anything like this before. Once we have sights on the enemy then we shall reconvene here to discuss final plans. If we are lucky they will arrive at nightfall, but if the Goddess does not look favourably upon our cause then I expect them to arrive during daylight hours. Jocelyn you are welcome to join us, regardless of Turiel’s return or not, just ensure you give yourself and Lyvanne enough time to get out of the woods.”

  After the meeting had finished and the others had all gone off in their own ways to prepare for the fight to come, Jocelyn went off in search of Lyvanne. One, maybe two days, she thought to herself, plenty of time for some last minute training. She may not be able to teach Lyvanne much in the space of that time, but it would certainly help to keep her mind focussed on the fact that Turiel wasn’t back yet, and at best wouldn’t be expected back until nightfall.

  • • •

  Turiel scrambled back down the hill and towards his horse, his travelling cloak billowing as the updraft beat against his body.

  Seventy men. He considered the odds. This is a fight that we can we win, he thought to himself as he kicked into the sides of his horse to spur it on, but only with my help and the kind of luck that only the Gods could provide.

  Chapter 30

  Lyvanne had been one step ahead of her friend. As soon as she had heard what was going on Lyvanne had gone out to their training patch in the woods alone, something that Jocelyn criticised her for quite heavily when she found her. Lyvanne didn’t know how to fight with weapons, she didn’t know how to kill someone or even if she would be able to if she was given the chance. But she did know that she didn’t want her inability to look after herself to be the reason that someone died.

  “How’re you feeling?” Jocelyn asked, sitting Lyvanne down on a nearby rock as the leaves gently swayed around them in a cool breeze. Lyvanne found it surprising how at home she had come to feel about the woods, how quickly she had adapted from city life.

  “I don’t know. How am I supposed to feel?”

  Jocelyn shrugged her shoulders. “Couldn’t tell you, never been in this situation before either.”

  Lyvanne hadn’t realised it herself but everyone else at camp, with the rare exceptions of one or two people, all felt the same way she did. They were all waiting for their first battle like helpless lambs waiting to be taken to slaughter.

  “I’m scared,” she decided.

  “So am I, but don’t worry. You don’t need to be scared; I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

  Lyvanne looked down at Jocelyn’s waist. She wasn’t sure when but she had at some point since arriving back at the camp picked up her twin blades, Lyvanne doubted that her friend would be without them at any point between now and the inevitable battle.

  “Where did you learn to fight?” Lyvanne asked. The question had been simmering away at the back of her mind for a while now, but she’d never found the right moment to ask. With this potentially being her last chance it felt like the right time to find out.

  “My father taught me. Remember on Trystan’s boat how I told you that my father was a smithy before we moved to Astreya? Well, he didn’t just make the weapons. Being a Hemeti in The Rive can be quite dangerous at times, so he liked to practice with them too, to keep us safe.”

  “Was he good?”

  “Yeah, he spent a few hours every day training with them before we moved, but I’m better,” Jocelyn said with a cocksure grin firmly attached to her face.

  “How do you know if you’ve never been in a real battle?”

  “Huh. I guess that’s a good point. Well… consider me the best at training and small scraps. I’m not entirely inexperienced like you are.”

  “Hey! How do you think I got this scar?” Lyvanne joked, pointing at a small scar the cut given to her by Drystal had left behind. Before more seriously unfurling the sleeve of her tunic to reveal the scar of an old wound. A wound she’d received the night Turiel had taken her into the Accord.

  Jocelyn nodded and rose to her feet. “Come on, no point wasting anymore time, it’s not like we have a lot of it anyway.”

  Lyvanne reached up and grabbed Jocelyn’s hand, using it to pull herself to her feet.

  “So, what do you want to practice?” she asked, eager and ready to distract herself from the fear.

  Jocelyn looked around. There wasn’t much point in teaching her swordplay, if it came down to that then she’d already run out of any option other than to run.

  “Stay here,” she said and began to run back towards camp. “I’ll be back soon, work on evading until I get back!”

  She wasn’t gone for long.

  “Take this,” Jocelyn said, handing a small wooden bow over into Lyvanne’s outstretched hands. “It’s not the best quality, but it was the smallest one I could find, didn’t think a long bow would suit you quite yet.”

  “You think I’m going to learn how to use this in time to help?” Lyvanne asked, staring wide-eyed at the craftsmanship of the bow. Jocelyn had been right, it did fit nicely for her size and despite Jocelyn’s comment about the quality, something about it felt right as she grasped the curved light wood tightly and held it up into the air.

  “Honestly, I was thinking more long term. If things go south and you end up on your own for whatever reason -

  “Why would I be alone? I’d have you.”

  “Just… just in case, okay? I can give you some basic knowledge of how to use this thing, and then at the very least you might be able to catch some food for yourself. We probably should have taught you to hunt a while back, I guess we’ve failed you on multiple accounts of what we should have started teaching you sooner, but it’s a start.”

  Lyvanne didn’t like the idea of being left alone. These people were fighting a battle on her behalf and she wasn’t in the game to just abandon them if things looked tough.

  “I’ve got to admit,” Jocelyn continued, pacing around the clearing and studying the bow in Lyvanne’s hands. “I’m not exactly the best shot myself, but I know the basics.”

  Jocelyn dumped a quiver of wooden arrows with steel tips onto the ground by Lyvanne’s feet and they began. The two spent the rest of the afternoon training with the bow reusing the arrows until they’d gone blunt. Lyvanne’s aim wasn’t the best, but by the time the sun had started to set beyond the trees she was capable of at least hitting a tree each time— even if she never came close to hitting the intended target Jocelyn had set. They called it a day when word reached them that Turiel had returned to the camp.

  Running back into camp, Jocelyn launched herself at Turiel, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him tightly.

  “Don’t ever do that again!” she shouted.

  Lyvanne watched them from a few feet away. Something about them seemed different she thought as she watched the pair holding each other.

  “What did you two get up to last night?” she asked inquisitively.

  The pair blushed, but it was Turiel who walked over ruffled her hair and promised that it was a conversation to be had at another time.

  “Where’s Kwah?” Turiel asked as he made his way over to the Annex, the time for reunions over with.

  The atmosphere in the Annex was tense. Lyvanne wasn’t sure whether they just hadn’t noticed her, or they’d decided that it didn’t really matter who was present anymore, but regardless she stood quietly by Jocelyn’s side as Turiel relayed to Tublik, Kwah and Shri’ook what he’d seen of the enemy.

  “Sixty to seventy men, likely a company from the king’s Army.”

  “Any cavalry?” Tublik asked, his large round face noticeably red from sparring with the others all day.

  “Just the officer in charge. If I had to take a guess I’d say that whoever organised the attack has deemed us not worthy of too much focus. Perhaps reluctant to send men at all and only doing it because it’s a direct order from the king.”

  “Well, we can say our thanks to the Goddess once we’re out of this alive,” Tublik replied.


  “Can we win?” Jocelyn asked from the corner of the room as Kwah moved around wooden soldiers on the map to reflect the new information.

  The eyes in the room all turned to Kwah. He had the most experience of fighting out of them all, if anyone knew it was him.

  “If the numbers Turiel have given us are accurate… then yes, maybe. But we’d need to hit them with an ambush, and we’d be relying on a whole lot of luck,” Kwah said as he studied the map.

  “Are our people ready?” Shri’ook asked Tublik and Kwah in stereo.

  The two shared a glance. “As ready as they’re going to be. Everyone appears willing and they’re all capable of taking one of the King’s men down with ‘em, regardless of their fancy armour or not,” Tublik answered for them.

  “I gave Ronnoc and the other North Road Hemeti the option of taking some supplies and leaving. To their credit, they all chose to stay,” Kwah added.

  “Good. Then let everyone rest now. I shall continue to oversee the construction of our defences, and we shall meet again upon first sight of the enemy. Thank you for the risk you took Turiel, you again earn our respect,” Shri’ook continued. “I recommend you all get some rest too. We will need leaders in the days to come and I don’t want you all walking around like the living dead of Akaratosh”

  With a wave of Shri’ook’s arm the meeting was over. Turiel came over to Lyvanne and Jocelyn, taking each of them by the hand and leading them out of the camp and towards their hut. The camp was busier than Lyvanne had ever seen it; the usual steady pace with which everyone lived their lives had been replaced by a sense of urgency. Even people who had nothing specific to be doing appeared to be pacing back and forth with agitation.

  “Where are we going?” Jocelyn asked as Turiel guided them through the crowds.

  “For now, to the hut,” he replied.

  Once inside, Turiel sat them both down and lingered by the entrance.