Rise (War Witch Book 1) (64 page)

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Authors: Cain S. Latrani

BOOK: Rise (War Witch Book 1)
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Leena nodded. "Let's find out."

She considered telling Chara there were two versions of the spell, one that did as she thought, and another that killed to create the copy by literally stripping the target’s skin from their body so the caster could assume their identity. She chose not to, in the end, fearful it would rob the young woman of her new-found resolve.

Esteban saw her hesitate, and knew why in an instant. He, too, was aware of the different manner the spell could be cast. He could only hope that Untar still lived, for without him, they had very few weapons to bring to the field.

Chara reached for the door.

Rills stared out at the city in boredom. He was supposed to be organizing the guards right now for today’s training session. Or help decorate for Ramora's birthday. Or maybe he was supposed to be doing both. He couldn't quite recall now.

Regardless, he was up on the castle wall, doing nothing. It was annoying, really. Sudden orders from the King, moving him from what he felt was much more important work, to stand around. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd made someone mad.

It was a pity, too. He'd managed to pick up the new cards for Rick and Izra last night on his way home. He was hoping to get them signed today. They would look great in his collection. He sighed a bit, thinking of his cards, resting on the special shelf he'd built, just for them, back in his room.

Sure, his mom didn't like that he'd put holes in the wall nailing the shelf up, but it was okay. One of these days, he was going to move out, get his own place, and maybe a girlfriend. She'd have to like his card collection, of course. Then again what woman worth her salt wouldn't?

He frowned as he realized he had no idea what that meant. What did salt have to do with a person’s worth anyway? It was weird, now that he considered it. Like that one saying, about pigs in pokes. He wasn't sure what a poke was, but it didn't really sound like something a pig would greatly enjoy.

"Um, Sir?"

Shaking himself, he realized he'd been drifting. Jerking up from where he'd been leaning on the wall, he looked over at the Private who'd addressed him. Wallace? Willis? Warner? He couldn't remember. He was sure it started with a W. Or maybe an R.

"Yes, soldier," he said, trying to sound authoritative. It came out a bit nasally. He hated when that happened.

"Well, Sir, me and the guys, we're just wondering if you know why we're up here today," the Private replied with a glance back at the squad. "I mean, normally I'm stationed down on Daymar Street. I've never even been assigned to castle duty before."

Rills thought about that for a minute, glancing over at the other soldiers. He really wasn't sure himself what was going on. Deciding to take charge, he waved the others over, making them line up.

"Okay, so, have any of you ever been assigned to work in the same squad?" he asked.

They glanced at each other, then shook their heads. He nodded slowly. That was very weird.

"Give me your names, ranks, and usual assignments," he ordered, for no reason other than to get familiar with them. He liked to think he was the kind of officer who inspired trust in those under his command. Not that he usually had anyone under his command. Mostly, he just manned one of the arbalests, or took desk complaints. He'd never really had to give a single order.

"Layton Wells, Private, Daymar Street patrol officer," said the soldier who'd first spoke to him.

Wells! he thought. It had been a W.

"Leslie Rakin," said the woman next to him. "Lance Corporal. City perimeter security."

"Garret Toms," offered the next, a slightly overweight fellow. "Sergeant. Desk duty at the Clayton Street patrol office."

"Lucy Vernit, Corporal, dock security," saluted the woman next in line. Rills took note, thinking her rather cute. Plus, she'd saluted. That was always nice.

"Oh, uh, Tim Fallows," the fifth in line nodded, half-saluting nervously. "Private. I don't have an assignment yet. Actually, I haven't finished training."

"John Castel," nodded the last. "Private, Lewis Bridge patrol officer."

Rills nodded his head slowly, pacing in front of them, hands folded behind his back.
Okay
, he thought,
this is more than weird
. Pulling people from that far and wide across the city made no logical sense at all, much less adding in someone who hadn't even finished their training yet.

"Soldiers," he said slowly. "Now and then, you will find yourself called upon to act outside your typical chain of command. Through some disaster, or event of unexpected origin, you will have to band together in a unit comprised of people you don't know well, and still be able to act as effective squad. I want you to think about that, okay?"

Giving each other uncertain looks, they muttered their understanding. Rills nodded, trying to appear sure of himself, even though he'd literally made that whole thing up off the top of his head. There was no reason for the men, and women, he supposed, or maybe it was people, under his command to feel as if their superior officer didn't know what was going on.

Which he didn't. He had no idea.

"Return to your duty stations and await further orders," he commanded.

Shrugging, the soldiers did as he said, muttering to each other about how it was all still damned strange. He wished he could assure them it wasn't, but it really was. Everything about this was damn strange.

While it was normal for him to rotate around his position, it was because he was an officer. He needed to be familiar with multiple aspects of city defense. For the enlisted, however, they were usually given an assignment, and stayed there, sometimes for years. The Castle Guard, especially.

Looking around, he realized he really had no idea who most of the people manning positions on the wall even were. Some few, he'd seen around, but didn't know their names. No more than he'd ever seen any of them assigned to the castle before.

Rills got his first inkling that something wasn't right here. He just didn't know what to do with it. Orders were orders, and soldiers followed orders. Even when they didn't understand them. This was different, though. This was wrong. He just couldn't put his finger on what it was that was bothering him about it.

Turning to look out over the city again, he drummed his fingers on the battlement, considering the various pieces of the puzzle. It wasn't enough to form a full picture, but he could make a rational guess with what he had. Nothing wrong with that. Wasn't like he was questioning orders.

A squad composed of people who weren't suited to the positions they currently occupied. Strange faces he hadn't seen before assigned to posts of considerable importance. The usual castle guards nowhere to be seen, but presumably, moved to occupy the roles the people present had been forced to vacate.

His fingers fell still as Rills held those various pieces of the situation in his mind, asking himself, if he was the one giving those orders, what would he be trying to achieve? The simple answer, obviously, was to weaken the city defense, especially at the single most strategically important place, the castle. Which is what an invader would do prior to launching their attack.

"Naw, couldn't be," he muttered to himself.

Looking over at his squad, he thought about them for a moment, then noticed their position. Halfway between the parapets. Taking a moment, he sized that up, realizing that his squad had no room to retreat, or even really fight, as they were perfectly poised to be attacked from both sides.

"That's not possible, though," he mused quietly. "Right?"

Stepping back, he turned and crossed to look down into the courtyard. The gates were closed. The gates were never closed. He couldn't remember a single time he'd ever seen the gates closed.

Or an entire platoon gathered in the courtyard.

"Um, guys," he called. "I think, maybe, we should form up here."

"Say what?" Wells called back.

Backing into the center of the wall, Rills looked left nervously, then right. "Form up. Right now. On the double."

"Sir?" Rakin asked, hustling to join him, the others lagging behind as they looked to each other, shaking their heads in confusion.

"Just, do what I say, okay?" he said to her. "I'm not sure, but I think we're about to be in a fight."

"Wait, what?" Fallows yelped. "I've not even been given a real sword until today! I've only used the wooden practice weapons!"

"Yeah, I'm hoping I'm wrong here, but I'm getting this really bad feeling, so here's what I want you guys to do," Rills said quickly. "Stay here, in the center of the wall, three facing left, three to the right. Backs together. Now."

Hesitant, they moved around a bit.

"Now!" Rills shouted, making them jump as they quickly moved to obey his orders.

"Hey, Lawrence, what's going on over here?" Billy called as he left his post to move towards him.

Rills gave him a nervous smile. "Just some battle training. Nothing to worry about. Figure as long as we're up here, we might as well get these guys use to combat maneuvers in tight spaces. You know?"

"Yeah, sounds good," Billy nodded. "But, say, you really shouldn't be pulling them from their posts right now. We've got an emissary on the way."

Rills froze. Billy cursed softly.

"How would you know that?" the Lieutenant asked, resting his hand on his sword.

Billy shook his head, smiling. "Damn. Never thought I'd be that guy who goes and puts his foot in his mouth. Shit. I'm gonna catch Hells over that for sure."

"Billy," Rills said slowly. "What's going on?"

His old friend shrugged, and pulled his sword. "Sorry, buddy. Now I have to kill you. Don't take it personally, though. It was going to happen in a few minutes anyway."

Rills sword was in his hand before he even knew he was pulling it. Behind Billy, he saw a significant number of other guards pull their weapons and start towards them.

"Lieutenant," Rakin shouted. "What's going on?"

"Do you have friendlies coming at you, weapons drawn?" Rills asked.

"Yes, Sir, we do," she replied, her voice shaking slightly.

"Yeah, me too, so I really don't know," he admitted.

Billy gave him a mirthful smile. "I really am sorry about this, old buddy. It's just business."

"What do we do?" Castel begged.

Rills steadied himself. "Well, I think we fight, probably for our lives."

Farther down the wall, Untar appeared as something moved on the horizon.

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Eight

CHARA GAVE THE DOORKNOB
a test turn, finding it locked. With a slight frown, she waved Esteban forward to deal with it. Uncertain, he gripped it, giving it hard turn that snapped the lock easily, before stepping back.

"Have you ever considered a life as a thief?" Leena asked.

"Not for a moment," he replied.

"I was talking to her," the aide said.

"The assassin wants to know if I've thought of being a criminal," Chara sighed. "And that's still somehow the least strange thing that's happened today."

Pushing the door open, she slipped into Untar's private rooms, Esteban on her heels, Leena behind him. The assassin glanced out at the hall one last time before easing the door shut. Silence greeted them, the room dim, morning light filtering in from two large windows across from them, heavy drapes blocking much of it.

Between the windows was a wide bed, big enough to accommodate at least four people, the sheets rumpled and pillows askew. Soft carpet muffled their footsteps as they moved into the middle of the room, wide doors on either side sitting closed, feeling menacing. Two armoires huddled near them, the only other furnishings being a comfortable-looking chair in front of a small fireplace on the same wall as the entry doors.

"You know," Leena said as she moved to the right, studying the doors there. "The Silken Sisters often recruit from the least likely elements. Orphans, criminals facing the gallows, and prostitutes are all acceptable."

"Good to know," Chara commented as she moved to look at the bed, Esteban poking about the armoire on the left.

"Clever farm girls, as well," the other woman said as she swung the doors open, revealing the King’s study. Dust floated in the half-light coming from the windows, but nothing moved amidst the loveseats and bookshelves.

Chara tugged at the sheets, making sure there wasn't a body underneath their piles. "Yeah, I doubt I'm assassin material."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Leena replied, stepping into the study and taking in everything with cool regard. "You don’t see yourself, or your potential, the way others do."

Chara frowned slightly as she moved to the other set of doors in the room. "The rumors say that Silken Sisters have to abstain from sex, and I kind of have a boyfriend, so that's a no."

"We only abstain from sex with men for pleasure," Leena replied, tossing Esteban a smirk. "And he could be dealt with easily enough."

"Hey now," Esteban growled.

"I'm kidding," Leena told him, wandering back into the bedroom. "Mostly."

"You're a funny lady," Chara said as she pulled the bathroom doors open.

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