Rise and Fall (60 page)

The light padding of footsteps sounded from behind. He did not turn to face them. “What is it, Nachun?”

Tobin heard the faint pause in the shaman’s stride as if surprised, before the footsteps continued on. Nachun stopped beside Tobin. “I forget how hard it is to come up quietly on you.”

“What need is there to do so?”

“I only wished not to disturb you.”

“It is too late for that. Are you here to ridicule me for taking the easy way out today? There is no need for it. I am already well aware of my mistake.”

“Mistake? When?”

“Today. The Kifzo I killed.”

“That? What of it?”

“I was wrong.”

“I was not there but I spoke with Walor and he explained what happened.”

“It was the easy thing to do.”

“Easy because you reacted on instinct? Maybe so. But more times than not those instincts lead you to the right decision. Many of the old hands are rallying behind you, Tobin, and bringing the new blood to your side. Your support grows each day. I might even venture to say they respect you in ways they never respected Kaz.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Simple. They knew to expect a hardness unequaled and a cruelty unmatched from your brother. With you, they once assumed the opposite, but when you do something as you did today, or something as you did to Mawkuk at Cypronya…well, they don’t know what to expect. They fear and even respect what they do not know.”

Tobin pondered Nachun’s words.

The shaman continued. “And that move with the women. That was brilliant.”

“Brilliant? Dozens of women were raped this night.”

“And at least they were well paid for it. More than they would have received otherwise. And your men did not abuse them as they normally would have. The Kifzo did not wish to provoke you any further.”

“Listen to you. I thought you agreed that such things were beneath men.”

“They are, but you cannot expect to change things all at once. It would be the death of you.”

“Being Warleader is not an easy thing. I hate to say this, but perhaps Kaz was more suited to this role after all.”

“Nonsense. You saved children and older women a lot of pain tonight, maybe even saved their lives. You did good while still eliminating the enemy.”

“Enemy? We faced no army. Only families, helpless families.”

“Sometimes your enemy is who you least expect it to be.”

Nachun turned and left Tobin to consider the meaning behind those words.

* * *

The command tent roared in upheaval as each advisor fought to be heard over the others. Panic and, to a lesser degree, fear, gripped them and they pled with Bazraki to heed their advice. Tobin stood at the back of the tent and chuckled. He could see the scowl on his father’s face, growing as the seconds waned. The others were so caught up in their own emotions they were oblivious to Bazraki’s displeasure.

“Enough!” Bazraki shouted. The room fell silent as Tobin’s father bared his teeth and met the eye of each man. “You are all weak. Pathetic. Get out,” he snarled. “All of you.”

Tobin turned to leave when his father called out. “Not you, Tobin. You will stay.”

Surprised, he stepped back from the entranceway and allowed the others to file out of the tent. He came forward and stopped a short distance from his father who paced, breathing deep. Now that the tent had emptied, his father changed. He seemed worried. Something Tobin had never seen in him.

I wonder if Kaz ever saw him this way.
Tobin suddenly felt awkward as he realized he hadn’t been in his father’s presence since their altercation weeks ago.
He needs me.

“The Yellow Plain Clan is less than half a day away from us. We will have to meet them in battle tomorrow.”

“Yes, I heard you relay the news,” said Tobin.

“I was right about Mawkuk. You should have killed him and placed another in command. Maybe then, the Gray Marsh Clan would not have failed in drawing away the Yellow Plain Clan’s army,” said Bazraki.

“The Yellow Clan is not as gullible as the Orange Desert Clan was. Didn’t I hear you say that the Yellow Clan was not at full strength?”

Bazraki grunted. “That was for those fools to hear,” he said gesturing toward the tent flap. “The small force left behind to harass Mawkuk, slowing him from joining in the battle, will hardly matter tomorrow. Walor said the Yellow Clan’s camp is more than double our size.”

Tobin’s eyes widened.

“Yes. So do you now want to defend Mawkuk?”

Tobin ignored the question. ”We have time to adjust our plans, especially since we know where the battle will be.”

“Yes. Across open land. And the advantage will be theirs.”

“I will…”

“You will follow my plans,” said Bazraki, cutting his son off. He wheeled about, snatching a rolled piece of parchment from atop the table and handing it to Tobin. “Here are my orders.” He paused and sighed as he met Tobin’s eyes. “I have so little left in life. After your mother died, my attention turned to goals of conquest. And with Kaz lost, my desire to rule Hesh has only increased. I have my goals and I have you. Nothing more.” He placed a hand on Tobin’s shoulder. “I’m counting on you tomorrow, son.”

Tobin caught himself from staggering.
Son. He has never called me son. At least not with the sincerity I see now.

So taken aback, Tobin bowed his head, lower perhaps than he ever had, and took the parchment from his father. “I will bring you victory.”

* * *

Tobin looked down at the piece of parchment again, at least the fifth time in as many minutes. Rolling it tight, he squeezed it in his fist. He lifted his head and stared out over tomorrow’s battlefield.

“This will be much different than any battle we’ve fought before. This land is not kind to the Kifzo style of fighting,” said Tobin, staring out across the expansive valley floor. “We don’t have the mounts or the men to match the Yellow Clan on horseback.”

Nachun gestured to Tobin’s hand. “And your father’s plan?”

“Useless. I couldn’t draw up a weaker positioning of our forces if I tried. And we still have their shamans to contend with.”

“Yes, their shamans are quite powerful. From what I gather, they are adept at making use of the land and life around them.”

“And yet, you do not even factor into my father’s strategy.”

Nachun raised an eyebrow. “I think your father no longer trusts me. Though after all I’ve done for him, I haven’t the slightest idea why.”

“His distrust will add to the Blue Island Clan’s slaughter.”

“You aren’t making any changes to Bazraki’s plans?”

Tobin shook his head. “I don’t know. I promised him.”

“You said that you promised victory. You didn’t commit to how that victory would be achieved.”

Tobin sighed. “He called me
son
, and I saw he meant it. Just like you said he would. He has realized my importance. How can I defy him after that?”

“Do not consider it defiance. You have thousands of men counting on you now. All of them expect you to lead them to victory. You have to do what you think is best for them. If they succeed, so will your father. Do you really think he would prefer you follow his plans and lose, rather than mold them into something better so that he can accomplish his goals? You told me yourself that Kaz altered Bazraki’s plans as he saw fit to ensure success. Do you recall your father ever being upset with your brother’s decisions? Now that he is recognizing you for who you are, why would he treat you differently?”

Tobin mulled over Nachun’s words. He sighed again and nodded. “You’re right. Find Ufer and then meet me at my tent.”

“Ufer?”

“Yes. He’s proven that I can trust him. I’ll get Walor. Tell no one else. I don’t want one of my father’s advisors to hear of our meeting.”

* * *

Tobin pushed aside the flap of his tent and set off into the cool, starry night. Nachun, Walor, and Ufer left several minutes earlier to carry out his orders and ensure all was set for the imminent battle. Tobin stayed behind to go over his plan at least half a dozen times more in private. He wanted to make certain that he hadn’t missed some crucial detail.

Too easy how quickly everything became clear to me. Yet Father spends days, weeks, months, agonizing over the smallest of details, only to have them changed later.

With head held high, he strode through camp, his face hard as stone. Tobin offered a nod to those warriors’ who met his eyes. A Kifzo would not need encouragement or motivation for what was to come.

War is their life, and if they are not ready now, they will never be.

“The only thing worse than failure is cowardice. A man who is afraid to fight is already dead. By killing those who are frightened, you make room in line for those who are still alive, eager to taste victory.”
Another lesson of Tobin’s uncle that was etched into his mind.

Tobin usually felt nothing on the day before a battle, but a sense of anxiousness twisted his stomach into knots.
It is because I have so much to lose now. The respect of my men. Of my father. And Odala.

Now outside of Juanoq, Tobin’s duties had increased, becoming much harder to spend time with Odala. Still, late each night when the camp was asleep, Tobin would go to her tent and stay for hours, talking with her and sometimes holding her. The lack of sleep had worn on him little—his body had learned long ago how to survive on a small amount of rest. Besides, each visit to her tent only seemed to renew his energy and carry him through the next day.

The day before a battle most warriors spent their time sharpening edges, checking gear, resting, making peace with their thoughts, or recalling events from the past around a blazing fire. Yet Tobin stood at the entrance to Odala’s tent.

And there is no other place I would rather be.

* * *

Odala was shaken awake with force.

“What are you doing? Wake up,” said Soyjid.

She rolled over and rubbed away sleep as she faced her brother. “Leave me alone. I’m trying to sleep as much as I can before Tobin arrives.”

“And you think I’m not tired? Remember, I have to stay awake to listen to all that babbling so I can try to glean any information you might miss.”

She sighed and turned back over, closing her eyes. “Just leave me alone.”

Soyjid ripped the covers from her grasp. A gust of air sent a chill down her. She sat up with a start, furious. “Soyjid!”

Her brother smiled. “Good. You’re up.” He threw something at her. “Put this on and get ready.”

Odala picked up what looked like a jumble of fabric. The blue material was silky beneath her fingers. She looked from the dress to her brother. “Where did you get this?” she asked in a whisper.

Soyjid lowered his voice. “Well, rather than sleep the day away like some people do, I’ve been busy.”

“Busy with what? Eavesdropping on guards?”

He waved a hand. “They are a waste of time. However, the servants are a much different matter. One in particular secured your dress. I have several others that keep me well informed.”

“How?”

“Let’s just say that you’re not the only one who knows how to use charms to get what they want.”

Odala raised an eyebrow. Her brother’s thin frame brought even more attention to his oversized head.
Perhaps they feel sorry for him.

She kept her thoughts to herself though, knowing her brother liked to keep his secrets. She stood up, draping the dress in front of her. Dangerously revealing, a slit reached as high as where her waist would be. The cut in front, descended like a V, and would expose most of her chest and even part of her stomach.

“I can’t wear this,” she said, appalled that her brother would even suggest such a thing.

“Sure you can. I don’t see what the big deal is. Your nightgown may cover more but reveals almost as much as the dress.”

Odala shied away. “That’s different. I sleep in that. This is more…alluring.” She paused. “I can’t do this.”

“You may not have a choice, sister. I overheard the guards complaining that they would have to stay behind and watch over us during the battle tomorrow. The Yellow Plain Clan has come out to meet the Blue Island Clan. It appears they are not willing to wait for Bazraki to attack Actur.”

“Then why bother with this?” Odala asked, pointing to the dress. “Tobin may die tomorrow and then I won’t have to worry about this ruse any longer.”

“Shh,” said Soyjid, holding a finger to his mouth. “You better hope he doesn’t.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Odala, seeing her brother grow somber.

“You don’t get it, do you? The Yellow Plain Clan should be busy with Father and our forces to the south. The fact that they are here means that they did not fall for Bazraki’s deception.”

“And?”

“And, I was told that Bazraki blames Father for the failure of his plan. Now they must face the Yellow Clan with their armies divided and hope that Father gets here in time.”

“I still don’t understand.

Soyjid shook his head. “Odala, I was told that orders have already been issued to kill Father after the battle tomorrow, regardless of the outcome. You must convince Tobin to change Bazraki’s mind.”

Not Father. He is so old. He deserves to pass on in his own time.
“How am I supposed to do that?”

Soyjid nodded to the dress. “Any way necessary.”

Odala stood there, biting her lip in thought. As always, she could see Soyjid’s point.
He is too smart for his age
, she thought.
Still, am I ready for this?

A voice called out. “Odala?” Both their heads turned.

Tobin.

In panic she looked at Soyjid. He gestured at the dress and then scurried behind the flap dividing their adjoining tents. Odala cursed to herself as she slipped off her nightgown, and threw the dress over her head. On her way to the door she paused for a second in front of a full-length mirror Tobin had brought for her, admiring herself.

Maybe tempting him will be enough?

She pulled the flap aside, careful to stand away from the entrance so that the guards would not see her.