Rise and Fall (68 page)

And what did I tell Elyse earlier today about being careful?

At the other end of the loaded weapon was a boy shaking, tears forming in his red eyes.

“Mal, what’re you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” the boy answered in a quavering voice.

“It looks like you are about to make a big mistake,” said Jonrell while taking a step forward.

Mal stiffened. “Stop right there. Don’t you dare move or I’ll kill you.”

Jonrell froze. “Ok son, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m not your son so quit calling me that.”

“Ok, I’m sorry. I…”

“You’re not sorry,” said Mal cutting in. “You’re not sorry for anything. You ruined my life. I was happy in the Hideaway. I was somebody. I was in charge of my own men and one day Denneth may have placed me in charge of his army. But here? Here I’m nothing. You’ve found something useful for everyone to do. Even Drake who’s two years younger than me is commanding men in battle. You had
me
shoveling coal in a forge.”

“Look, you’re right. I know I’ve been a real heel to you, but you have to understand, I’ve had an army to command and a battle to win.”

“Don’t give me that. You’ve made time for others. Raker, Yanasi, Kaz, even that idiot Crusher. But you haven’t once talked to me like you said you would when we were back on Slum Isle. And there were more than enough opportunities to do so on the ship, on the ride into Cathyrium and even at the dinner table. But you never did anything for me.”

Jonrell gave a sigh. He knew Mal was right, he just assumed the boy understood the stress he was under.
I haven’t been fair to him though. He does deserve better. One Above, it seems I always miss something regardless of how much else I get right.

“Well, aren’t you going to say something?”

Jonrell saw the hurt in Mal’s eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “I can only promise you that I won’t let it happen again and swear to you that it was never my intention to cast you aside.”

The boy’s hurt faded and his eyes narrowed into an intense hatred. “I’m tired of your promises. And I won’t let you break them to me anymore.”

Jonrell started to speak but found himself suddenly out of breath and staggering backward. He slammed into the door behind him and looked down. A quarrel stuck out from his chest, only the fletching visible. He gasped for air as blood seeped out of the wound and turned his shirt a crimson red.

* * *

Elyse wept. Kneeling in prayer, tears poured from her eyes and fell to the cobble floor beneath her, pooling into a puddle. She had been crying for hours and was surprised she still had tears left to fall.

Jonrell was dead.

His body had been found in his room, killed by one of his own. The reasons would never be known as the boy took his own life after firing the crossbow that ended her brother’s.

Elyse knew little about Mal but remembered the longing in his face at a dinner months ago, and how he had looked up to her brother.

What could have caused him to change? Why would he take Jonrell from me?

She hated Mal, though she knew the One Above would frown upon her for it. Her head tilted upward toward the small altar where she had been praying. It was a contrast from the majestic cathedral of Lyrosene, or some of the more fantastical structures built in honor to the One Above spread throughout Cadonia. After the burning of the city by Tomalt, the small, unadorned chapel nestled in a secluded cove of the castle was the only place left for her to worship the One Above.

Elyse cast her eyes down in shame, not for her hate of Mal, but for how her brother’s death had shaken her faith at the worst of times. She tried to remember her discussions with High Priest Burgeone but they helped little. The same questions kept repeating themselves in her head over and over.
One Above, why did you allow this to happen? How could you take him from me now?

She shook her head.
This is my fault. If my rule had been stronger, war and all its destruction would have been avoided.
She paused, fearing she knew the answer to her previous questions.
You took him from me so I would lose the throne, didn’t you? Why else? Someone else must be a better leader for your people. Without Jonrell, our forces will surely fall.
She didn’t want to believe such things, but she also recognized the hopelessness in her situation. Jonrell’s death devastated her army. Jeldor had refrained from saying anything just yet, but Elyse caught the brief glimpse in his face, the horror that he had made a mistake aligning with her.

How long will he wait before aligning with someone else?

She heaved into another fit of sobbing. A firm but gentle hand touched her shoulder and she frantically wiped away the tears and sniffled. “I’m sorry for my behavior, it is not befitting of a queen,” she said, apologizing under the assumption that Lord Caliva had enough of her hiding.

“Your brother died. Your grief is nothing to be ashamed of.”

Elyse whipped her head about and saw Kaz standing over her, face drawn in hard lines. She didn’t know why his presence made her more self-conscious, but she stood up anyway and straightened her skirt. She winced at the stiffness in her legs from hours of kneeling. “I had not expected to see you here.”

“Things are getting unruly in your absence.”

“They are angry?”

“Frightened. There are too many questions. They need someone to stand behind, someone to lead them. You must come out and speak to your people.”

“I can’t. I am not the kind of person that inspires.”

“Jonrell thought you were.”

“And now he is dead…” she said, her words trailing off.

“That does not change his opinion of you. Your soldiers and lords both need to see that their queen is resolved in finishing what she has started.”

“I’m not so sure that I am,” Elyse said, looking away. “Perhaps the best thing to do is relinquish my crown and hand it over to someone more fitting.”

Kaz spat and Elyse jumped, aghast. “This is a place of worship and honor. You must not treat it with such disrespect.”

Kaz shook his head. “This place is neither to me. In a few short hours you entered a strong woman and have now turned into a feeble girl. There is no honor here right now.”

“My brother died!” she yelled at him. “What do you expect me to be?”

“I expect you to be the person Jonrell thought you were. Would you allow his efforts to go to waste?” He paused, staring into her eyes. “Honor him in death as he honored you while he was alive.”

“And what will you do to honor him now that he is gone?” she asked.

He looked down, his voice low. “I said I would aid him in securing your kingdom, and in return he would help me uncover my past and my home. He was a great man and without him I might be dead or lost. His death does not change the promise I made to him.” He took a knee and withdrew his sword, holding it out before Elyse. He bowed his head.

“What are you doing?” she asked in shock.

“I swear to you my sword. I will do all that I can to see your brother’s wishes come to pass. You are of his blood and I see in your eyes just as I saw in his, something good. Something better than what I see in others.”

Elyse fought back tears once again at the gesture. To have someone from another land be so sincere moved her in an odd way. But then a sudden realization came. “Stand up, Kaz, for you are only one man.”

He stood up at her command. “Others will do the same.”

“Out of love and respect for Jonrell? Out of guilt? They will not fight for me.”

“Perhaps not at first,” said Kaz, his blunt honesty wounding her fragile heart. “But in time, that will change.”

“And who will lead my army?” she asked. “I am barely a queen. I know nothing of warfare.”

“General Grayer or perhaps this Jeldor....”

“No,” said Elyse, cutting him off. “Grayer is a smart and good man, but he does not have the skills to command and rally men as my brother did. Jeldor is a better man than many credit him for, but he is still looking out for his own interests, at least for now. Neither will do.”

Kaz shrugged. “Then you have an army without a commander it would seem.”

“No, I do not. I have a great warrior who has just sworn his sword to me and promised he would honor my brother’s name.”

Kaz’s eyes widened. “I cannot. I am too different. The men…”

“Jonrell told me that many of the men who fought next to you have changed their prejudices. Others are likely to do the same over time.”

“But they are soldiers, not nobles. Jeldor might…”

“Jeldor will do as I say,” said Elyse, her voice hardening as a queen’s might. Her voice softened again as she realized she was taking out her anger on the one person who had sought to help her. “The question is, will you? Will you lead my army?”

There was a long pause as Kaz weighed her words, stroking his goatee. “Yes.”

She looked into his eyes and saw his passion and honesty and believed him. “And I will continue the promise my brother made to you. I will try to help you find a way back to your people.”

He nodded.

She turned back to the altar and caught the eyes of the One Above’s likeness. They seemed softer than before after this stranger to her land had calmed her.
You took Jonrell but gave me someone in his place.
Her hand went up to her neck where a necklace once hung, the green stone her brother had given her.
And you gave me someone as well, Jonrell. As you promised, when I need you most, you continue to watch over me.

“Your Majesty?” said Kaz.

Elyse faced Kaz and smiled. “Please, in private call me Elyse.” She stepped forward and found herself wrapping her arms around him, sobbing once again under a mix of emotions. The sadness of Jonrell’s death swirled in her mind but now she was overwhelmed with joy knowing that someone would stand beside her in the times ahead.

Kaz’s body stiffened at her touch. She briefly questioned her gesture. But after a moment, his thick arms enveloped her. Elyse knew it was unfitting for a queen to be caught in such an embrace with anyone, let alone someone such as Kaz. Yet she didn’t care.

Chapter 31

The aftermath of any battle brought as much work as the fighting. Tobin first saw to the well-being of the wounded and then afterward handled the containment of the prisoners. Others already began the process of stripping bodies of their weapons, armor, and valuables. Tomorrow they would complete the process and then bury or burn the bodies, depending on what time allowed for.

Tobin wanted to oversee the entire process personally, but Walor convinced him to see a healer for the gash across his chest first after giving orders. Stripped of his armor, the healer hurried to tend to the wound, shocked that Tobin had not lost more blood. Once bandaged, he returned to the work at hand.

Late that night, he finally allowed himself to return to camp, the last to arrive. A decision he made, unlike the countless times when Kaz ensured Tobin could not enjoy spoils of victory.

Throughout the encampment, bison roasted over bonfires while warriors circled around, celebrating the day's victory. Exhausted, they found renewed energy by filling their bellies with food and drink and enjoying the entertainment Bazraki’s advisors had brought in anticipation of victory. Dancers and singers, both male and female, acted out ancient scenes from their history.

Tobin made his way through camp. Bone tired, he forced himself to stand up straight and avoid shuffling his feet. Though all he wanted to do was sleep in Odala’s arms, he knew it would be some time before he would have a chance to rest. As Warleader, his presence during the celebration would be expected. And he still had to speak with his father.

I’m surprised he didn’t send someone to take me away from the battlefield. He did call for Nachun though. Perhaps whatever he told Father was enough to satiate his curiosity of today’s events.

The shaman made his way toward Tobin just then. Tobin called out. “I was just thinking about you. I’m on my way to see Father.”

Nachun ducked his head and shook it, coming up close to whisper in Tobin’s ear. “Your father can wait. You need to see Odala.”

“What do you mean? I’m sure someone else can check in on her,” said Tobin, trying not to stutter.

“Don’t play coy with me. Your relationship with her is not a secret. Most of the camp has known for some time.”

Tobin tensed.

“Relax,” said Nachun. “You are Warleader. Not one of your men has an issue with your decision. And as your friend, I am happy that you’ve found someone.”

“I see.”

Nachun smiled. “Good. But you must go to her now. One of her guards came to me while searching for you. Something must have happened for she was crying hysterically.”

Tobin was ready to race toward her tent but Nachun gripped his arm, much tighter than he thought the thin shaman was capable of. “Remember who you are Tobin, and more importantly where you are,” said Nachun, casting his eyes about.

Tobin looked around and nodded. Nachun eased his hand away.

It would not be fitting for a Warleader to run after a crying woman under any circumstances. Compose yourself, Tobin.

* * *

Not bothering to announce himself, Tobin pushed his way through the tent flap.
If everyone knows of our relationship, then what sense does it make for me to continue the charade?

Odala lay curled up in her bed hugging a pillow. She looked up sobbing with blood-shot eyes. “What are you doing here?” she asked, ice in her voice.

Tobin saw a look of disdain in her eyes that he hadn’t seen in some time. He brushed the look off, and strode to her side, sitting on the edge of her bed. “One of the guards told Nachun you were upset. I came right away,” he said, draping his arms around her.

“Don’t touch me,” she said, sitting upright and pushing him away.

Tobin leaned back in surprise, eyes widening. “What’s wrong, my love?”

“Liar. You don’t love me. It was just something you said to get what you wanted, to use me.”