Rise and Fall (59 page)

Jeldor waved a hand and shook his head with a chuckle. “Your Majesty, that was only a jest. My apologies if I hadn’t made that clear before.”

Your Majesty, eh? I see we are suddenly back to titles. Very well, I’ll play this game.
“My Lord, then I owe you an apology. I guess I am unaccustomed to such wit.”

“No need to apologize. An honest mistake is all. But now back to that alliance we spoke of. You will need to send immediately for your troops. I will assume command of them if we are expected to recapture Arcas Island and retaliate against Duke Bronn.”

Elyse shook her head. “I’m sorry, My Lord but that was not our arrangement. I’ve spoken of the dire situation at Cathyrium. That is where you will need to march in order to lend support to my brother. And in fact, you will take all your orders from Jonrell who has command over all of my armies.”

Jeldor’s eyes narrowed and his smile vanished. “Your Majesty, I hardly think you are in a place to be negotiating, given your current circumstances.”

“You are mistaken, Duke Jeldor, I am not negotiating at all. I am issuing you a command. You just said that I had nothing to fear, that I was still your queen, and not a prisoner. Therefore, you must follow my orders. But, even if you were to treat me as a prisoner which of course you are not, then what difference does it make if I listen to your suggestions. My kingdom would be lost anyway for I’d have given my little remaining power to you. Frankly, the option I gave is your best chance.” She paused. “However, if standing alone against Bronn and perhaps Conroy, is preferable, well, I cannot stop you from doing so.”

“Just like every other time before, my family is being walked over,” Jeldor muttered.

“No. Not like before,” said Elyse. “I promised I would release you from the extra taxes. I still intend to do that. I will also return your island. And,” she added, “fight for me, and I’ll see that your lands are increased and Bronn’s are reduced.”

Jeldor’s eyebrows raised. “Will you put that in writing?”

“I’ll sign it this very day. However, you need to understand that those things will only come to pass after Cadonia is secured.”

Jeldor nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll have my steward write it up immediately and send it to you. In the meantime, I will make preparations to leave as soon as possible.” He looked down at Elyse’s robe and blinked as if noticing for the first time. “Uh, I’ll see that you are brought garments more suited to your position, Your Majesty. I hope we can move on from all what’s transpired these last few days…”

She nodded. “There is a war developing. There are more important things to worry about than my feelings.”

He nodded in acknowledgement and left the room. As the door closed Elyse clasped her hand over her mouth to hide her excitement.

Jonrell, I did it. Just as you said I could.

She sighed as her excitement faded.
Now I only have to make it there on time.

* * *

Elyse hadn’t thought it was possible for so much to be accomplished in so little time. Even though Jeldor’s men and sworn lords were already on alert due to the tension in Cadonia, many had been called into Ithanthul earlier to make plans to protect Jeldor’s borders. None had expected to march in such a short amount of time and especially not before spring.

At least the worst of winter should be over. But Tomalt will know that too and if what Jonrell said about him is true, he will want to secure Cathyrium before we’re better prepared for him.

Jeldor’s ability to quickly organize his army impressed Elyse. After signing the papers sent in by his steward, Elyse made it a point to shadow Jeldor at every step. At first the sour duke seemed perturbed by her presence. However, he quickly grew accustomed to her and he even took care to include her in conversations and decisions. Before long, the queen found herself learning a great deal from what now amounted to her most crucial ally. If Jeldor did not come through for her, Cadonia would be lost.

She was pleased to see the rumors about his capabilities were false as she watched him lead his men. His style was different than her brother but was effective nonetheless. He did not ride and talk with his men as freely as Jonrell did. However, she could see from the look in their eyes that they respected him all the same.

It seems that there is more than one way to rule.

Elyse found the whole situation odd. Her emotions had been a constant up and down battle since taking the crown. Confident one moment, she was lost and hopeless the next. These last few days had been no different. Yet, since her time with Jonrell, then traveling with Kroke and Rygar, and now working with Jeldor, she began to understand the big picture. She could not lead like someone else. She needed to be herself, only a much better version of herself.
Now I just need to learn what that version is. I cannot be the hard man Jeldor is to his men, nor the friend to his soldiers that Jonrell is. Yet, how can I inspire the same loyalty, respect, and honor that they do?
She shook her head.
It seems that each answer only brings about more questions.

* * *

Kroke sat atop his mount working a blade in steady strokes. It felt good to have his knives back. He’d only been away from them for a few days, yet the time apart had him feeling like some drunk giving up wine, complete with the shakes. Probably wasn’t healthy but he didn’t much care. They were back in his hands once again and that’s all that mattered.

Rygar reined in beside him and coughed.

“What is it?” asked Kroke looking from the corner of his eye.

“Just wondering if you were going to do that the whole ride back to Cathyrium is all. It’s getting a bit obsessive, even for you.”

“Just making up for lost time is all,” said Kroke sheathing his blade. “So what’s really on your mind?”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s the first time you’ve ever said anything about my blades. Sounds like someone trying to say something they don’t really know how to say.”

Rygar watched all the activity that, until a few moments ago, Kroke had done his best to block out. Not like it was hard for him once he got to sharpening his steel though.

Supply wagons were hitched to mules. Sergeants and captains shouted orders. Women sobbed and said their farewells.

Rygar gestured out to the organized chaos. “I just never thought it would work. I didn’t think she could convince Jeldor to support her.”

Kroke chuckled. “I thought you were on our fair queen’s side.”

Rygar shrugged. “Sure. I thought she was nice enough, and she was Jonrell’s sister, so I figured she couldn’t have been all bad. But, well, I guess deep down I thought this whole trip was a hopeless waste. She just surprised me is all.”

Kroke looked over to Elyse who sat atop a white horse. She was quiet and looked to be in deep thought. Though Kroke couldn’t help but notice that she held herself a little higher than before, more confident.

“Yeah, to be honest, she surprised me as well. She even made time to check up on me to make sure I didn’t need anything.”

“Yeah, me too. I guess Jonrell was right about her. Maybe she can be as good a leader as he is.”

Kroke spat. “Let’s not get carried away. Sure she did good here, at least as far as we know. But she’s also got a long record of mistakes from what I hear. The way I see it, she’s got a lot still to prove.”

“Yanasi was right, you can be a real optimist sometimes.”

“Realist. You’ll learn not to trust so easily in time.” Kroke spared one more glance at Elyse who now talked to Jeldor. She made herself heard, no longer cowering.

Definitely some changes there.

Chapter 25

The small village was hardly a threat with no more than thirty families calling it home. Yet, when Tobin received the report of its existence, he knew Bazraki would expect action. After all, his father had always believed that the key to victory was being the first to spill your opponent’s blood, even if that blood came from villagers instead of an opposing army.

Accustomed to sniping off people from a distance with bow and arrow, Tobin had forgotten what it was like to lead a charge with sword drawn. Despite his initial trepidation in attacking an outmatched village, his heart raced at the thrill of striking the first kill. He cleaved a man from right shoulder to left hip.

Only a hunting knife in his defense.

Tobin wiped his blade on the fallen man’s shirt before sheathing it once again, satisfied that his sword had been baptized in blood.
Let others do the same to their blades. I have other things to watch for.

Watching the slaughter reminded Tobin of the Kifzo’s past destruction.
We’ve always been the knife used to disembowel Father’s enemies. When killing the elders who threatened his power amid our own tribes, Father never dirtied himself. And yet he is the one who leads us.
Tobin allowed these thoughts to fester as he watched the mass of Kifzo swarm into the village, moving from one sod house to another and reigning death on all who stood in their way.

Tobin’s dark thoughts were interrupted by movement to his left. A young warrior, having just earned the right to be called Kifzo, held a small girl while fumbling with the laces of his armor. He had thrown her to the ground and straddled her.

In a few quick strides Tobin backhanded the young warrior, sending him sprawling into the dirt. The warrior stumbled to his feet, ignoring his half laced armor and reached for his sword. When his eyes met Tobin’s, the warrior’s hand moved away from his hilt, though his look of anger did not waver. “My apologies, Warleader. I did not think she would interest you. I shall find another like her.”

“No. You will not. She is but a girl.”

“A girl? She has reached womanhood,” said the warrior, pointing to the girl’s partially exposed chest. “She is ready to bare someone’s child. She should consider herself lucky that I would allow her to bare mine.”

“You are wrong. She’s a child. And there will be no raping of children. Nor of anyone else for that matter.”

Another voice shouted a question. “Warleader, what are you speaking of? It is our way.”

Tobin looked around and saw that in those few short moments, the slaughter had ceased and many sets of eyes were on him and the young warrior. “And I say it is our way no longer.”

“Warleader, it is our right to…” started another voice.

Tobin cut in. “Your right? By whom? I do not recall anyone saying that such a thing was our right. I know it came not from my father and it came not from me. Do you think it was a right because Kaz allowed it? He is dead. I am now Warleader.”

Just then a whisper. “Tobin, what are you doing?”

Tobin recognized the voice as Walor’s who was now beside him. “We’ve talked about this before. We are not animals,” said Tobin.

“I understand but now isn’t the time. Look into your warriors’ eyes. You have just begun to gain their respect and confidence. Do this, and risk losing them again.”

“I am Warleader,” Tobin hissed under his breath. “They must obey.”

“You know as well as I do that the title alone does not warrant their obedience. Kaz knew that as well.”

“I am not like my brother, Walor.”

“I know, but these men are also not like me.”

Tobin looked up and locked gazes with several men, their weapons still drawn. He saw in those eyes that Walor was right. If he was to take everything away at once, he would lose them forever.

One spoke up, “Do you mean to take away our right, Warleader?”

Agat. So with Durahn in Nubinya, you now question my command.
“I mean to change things, Agat. We will not rape children nor will we rape the elderly. You speak of spreading your seed and producing children with these women, then I say only choose those who are in their peak of fertility, the prime years of motherhood. We will not waste our time on those too young to bear the burden of childbirth or with those too old to bear children at all.”

Agat snorted. “Why should we show these people any mercy when they have long disrespected us?”

“Because there are better ways to seek your retribution if that is what you are truly after. For the women you take to bed, you will pay them for their warmth.”

A clamor rose up from the warriors. Agat spoke over the noise. “We must give them of our plunder?”

“Yes,” said Tobin. “We will pay them like one would pay a whore so that the children we leave them with will grow up strong and fight for us one day if the need arises.”

Agat laughed. “You are trying to fool us into believing that your sympathy for these people is disdain. Kaz would say you were showing weakness, compassion even…”

The voice trailed off into a slow gurgle as Tobin’s dagger thudded into his neck. Tobin lowered his arm with eyes wide as he watched Agat grasp desperately at his throat before going limp.

I don’t even remember making the decision to act. It just happened. And now I have to act like it was something intentional.
“Anyone else believes that I am weak?” asked Tobin, head cocked to one side. “I have given my order.” He gestured to Agat. “And here is my
compassion
for those who disobey me.”

Tobin left, not once looking over his shoulder, doing his best to appear confident. He expected a knife in the back. To his surprise it never came.

* * *

Unmoving in the faint light of the setting sun, Tobin stared out over the plain. The sea of tall grass swaying in the gentle breeze reminded him of waves lapping against a sandy beach. Far outside of camp, only the chirping crickets kept him company. He needed time to think. He had killed a Kifzo in cold blood, one of his own men. Killing one of your own on a field of battle, even if a lowly one, was something that had happened only once before. His brother was the one who had done the killing then.

Tobin spat.
Am I no better than him now?

Tobin knew he had good reason to end Agat’s life. He saw the defiant look in the warrior’s eyes and knew it would spread into the eyes of others. If he had let Agat continue, it would have only festered into something greater. He knew that, but the thought did little to ease his mind. Removed from the situation, he saw now several other possible scenarios he could have taken when handling the situation. Yet, he had chosen none of them.