A Crumble of Walls (The Kin of Kings Book 4) (5 page)

It was sad to see someone as smart and powerful as Annah so easily frightened. He figured it had to do with the years she’d spent fixing her fear with psyche instead of learning to accept it for the harmless feeling it was.

“I overheard Terren speaking with Abith and my father,” Basen said, “right after Stanmar recruited our people and left. Terren believes Stanmar will come back today and attempt to recruit more. It means battle won’t happen for a while, especially considering that their only catapult is now a pile of ash outside the southern wall.”

“Terren doesn’t know any of that for certain. They could have more catapults.”

“Annah, I’ll only be gone a couple of days. I don’t want to go, but we can’t have the Elves siding against us.”
Or sending someone to kill me.
“They did give us the Krepps in armor, after all. Even though the Krepps have been nothing but trouble so far, I’m sure they will be worth the effort in the end. Now I need your help to figure out what Fatholl will make me do. It must be a portal he wants, but for what purpose?”

“I don’t know. I can’t think right now.” She let her head hang. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Basen held back a grumble. He decided to wait until she’d put food in her stomach before pressing her again.

After she took a few bites of hot, generously buttered bread and grinned, he figured the time was right. “If you remember, I was also able to make a portal at the center of the village in Merejic, not just in Fatholl’s quarters.”

It was from there that he’d transported hundreds of Krepps into the kitchen of Tenred castle while the Elves watched. Now, he wanted to teleport back to the village at night, when he might have a chance to skulk around before Fatholl knew he’d arrived.

“In order to create a portal there, energy had to have been gathered in that area many times before. It was Fatholl who brought me to that spot after I explained the requirements of a portal. He must’ve known something else happened there, probably more than just a repetitive use of psyche. Do you know what it was?”

“It’s likely to be where Doe and Haemon stood while destroying the Elves and their village. Though, Doe and Haemon weren’t standing, I suppose. They slithered. You do know what they were, right?”

“I haven’t been living in a cave.” Of course Basen had heard of the two monstrous Slugari who had gone against their own kind with an army of Kreppen supporters. What he hadn’t heard, however, was that they’d helped destroy the Elven village, causing the Elves to flee to Merejic. He told this to Annah.

“So you don’t know about Vithos,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

“I know he’s Reela’s half-brother.”

“About his past.”

“He grew up with the Krepps. What does he have to do with Fatholl?”

“Did you ever think about
why
he grew up with Krepps?”

“I figured they found or took him when he was young—oh, he was in the village when Doe and Haemon attacked with the Krepps.”

“Exactly. His history is what you’re really asking me about. There was a battle there when he was a baby. It must be why you can make a portal in the center of the village and why Fatholl knew the spot. His ancestors are the Elves who escaped.”

One thing was now clear to Basen. The Elves and Krepps shouldn’t be getting along as well as it seemed. Perhaps Fatholl wanted to use Basen to get rid of the lizard creatures.

“Do you know if Yeso was with the Elves who attacked us last night?” Annah asked. “He looks similar to Fatholl, from what I’ve gathered.”

No doubt Annah had socialized with the citizens from Oakshen and the capital who’d fled to the Academy. Basen could easily imagine her questioning everyone she came in contact with, pumping them for information about their enemies. He appreciated her efforts but wished she knew how to relax. She seemed more tense each time they spoke.

“I didn’t get a good look at any of them,” he told her. “I assume Yeso is the one who led the Elves here from Greenedge?”

“Actually, I believe a Takary named Ulric is the one who led the new army here from Greenedge. But it’s Yeso who commands the Elves, at least that’s what I’m told. They might be here for other reasons than fighting, however. If you’re searching for something to use against Fatholl, you might want to find out more about them. Ask Cleve or Reela. They went to Greenedge after the war, you know.” She took a few quick bites of food. “Are you going now? I could come with you.”

Basen leaned back in his chair, making an effort to relax. “Thank you, Annah, but I plan to finish my breakfast first. Then I’ll find Cleve.” Basen knew him better than the half-Elven psychic and also knew where Cleve was most likely to be.

By the time Basen had cleaned the last morsel from his plate, it was time for battle training, meaning Annah couldn’t go with him. Before they separated, she made him promise to come to her with his plan before he left. He agreed, especially considering that his rudimentary plot involved her.

He wasn’t sure if the new recruits would be joining the Academy’s soldiers in training yet, or if at all. He would find out later. Annah went to join her fellow psychics while he made his way to Warrior’s Field.

His instructor, Penny, would be upset at Basen for missing training, but his time was better spent figuring out Fatholl’s plan. He agreed with Annah that there must be something he could use involving the Elves who’d recently arrived from Greenedge. They’d chosen to follow a Takary to war instead of joining Fatholl. There was likely to be strife between the two groups.

A crowd at the center of the enormous field of grass caught his attention. Hoping to find Cleve there, Basen headed toward it. Krepps were clustered on one side of a circle. The humans completing the circle stood farther apart, not pushing to get a spot at the front like the creatures opposite them.

That made it easy for Basen to slip through to the inner rows of the circle, where he not only found Cleve but saw that the large warrior was in the middle of a bout against Rickik, the leader of the Krepps and possibly the biggest of them all. He was a full head taller than Cleve, with arms so massive that Basen doubted Cleve could cut cleanly through them with his bastial steel sword, even if the weapon was made from the sharpest and lightest material in the world.

Fortunately, Basen didn’t have to worry about irreparable damage to any of the Krepps he’d worked so hard to bring here, for Cleve and the other warriors were armed with dull training swords of wood. Fortunately for Cleve, so were Rickik and his Krepps.

But neither Cleve nor Rickik wore a protective tunic of boiled leather. Basen had trained with other swordsmen for years and knew there was only one reason someone would forego a tunic. Pride. It was better to train with one and get used to its weight. Although, Basen doubted there was a tunic at the Academy large enough to contain Rickik’s chest.

The Krepp fought quickly for his size, swiping his massive sword at Cleve in an endless barrage of attacks. But Cleve was more agile. He seemed to slow time with his ability to duck and dart out of the way.

Eventually he leaned back to avoid the tip of Rickik’s wooden sword, then stepped into the Krepp with a thrust of his own. Rickik let go of his weapon to deflect Cleve’s attack with his arm, but all the Krepp did was guide the tip into his shoulder instead of his chest. Had it been Cleve’s bastial steel sword, it might’ve gone straight to bone.

“Point!” nearly half the crowd of humans called out, some applauding.

Basen was pleasantly surprised to see the Krepps behaving rather than starting an uproar as Rickik scowled and spat on the grass.

It took two points to win a duel here at the Academy, and Rickik looked as if he wanted to hurt Cleve for the embarrassment the human had caused him. His lizard eyes, yellow and full of fury, had widened to nearly a complete circle. The two holes in the center of his face that made up his nose flared with each quick breath. He exchanged his two-handed sword for a smaller one from one of his Krepps. It was still about the size of Cleve’s two-handed sword, but Rickik held it with just one hand and weaved it through the air seamlessly in a show of dexterity.

He muttered something in Kreppen to Cleve. A few of the warriors behind Basen asked what Rickik had said.

“I think he said, ‘Humans are weak but quick. Take away their speed and they lose,’ ” someone answered.

Basen was thankful at least someone knew a smattering of Kreppen. All the Krepps seemed to know at least some common tongue, and a few of them were fluent enough to converse with humans, if they chose to. During their trip back to the Academy, however, the Krepps mostly had kept to themselves, and Basen figured they did the same here. They just wanted to fight and get help to build their own city. Rickik was the only one who wanted more—the bastial steel sword out of Tauwin’s dead hands.

Basen hoped the Krepp wouldn’t settle for anything less. He did seem to be eyeing the hilt of Cleve’s bastial steel sword.

I can understand Cleve worrying about leaving his sword where it might get stolen, but to fight with a training weapon while his bastial steel sword is strapped to his belt seems absurd.

The circle broke as the name “Warrior Sneary” fell off everyone’s lips in a hushed warning. Basen hid behind other students so the approaching instructor wouldn’t send him to the mages’ training grounds.

Sneary came through and confronted Cleve. “What’s happening here?”

“Just a duel.”

Sneary took his time regarding Rickik and the Krepps behind him. The instructor seemed to be checking to make sure each had a wooden training sword, his head tilting down toward their waist. Then he turned to the human side of the now messy circle.

He folded his arms and asked Cleve, “Where’s your dueling tunic?”

Cleve lifted his hand and a boiled leather tunic spun out from the crowd. He snatched it out of the air and put it on.

Sneary moved back and gestured for them to continue.

Most of the warriors clapped as they reformed the circle. The Krepps hissed and smiled as they seemed to understand Sneary was a leader of the humans and had allowed this to go on.

Rickik gestured with his claws for Cleve to come at him, and Cleve gladly took on the challenge by running and leaping high enough to fill Rickik’s eyes with shock.

“God’s mercy,” Basen muttered as Cleve soared toward Rickik with his knees bent and his sword overhead. It couldn’t be pure strength and agility alone that allowed Cleve to reach such heights or give him the stamina to finish three laps around this enormous field before anyone else. Cleve had to be doing
something
else to gain that kind of advantage.

Rickik spun to avoid Cleve and slashed at his back, yet Cleve rolled, giving himself the distance he needed to run and leap again. But he stopped short this time. Rickik was hurrying backward until he realized Cleve was no longer coming for him. The Krepp bared his teeth, obviously embarrassed to be caught moving away from the fight. He charged Cleve.

Basen could only hope this was what Cleve had wanted. Cleve turned his body to assume a stance with his weapon out in front, a tactic usually reserved for one-handed swords. Fortunately, Cleve appeared strong enough to wield his weapon this way as he stepped toward Rickik and kicked with his back foot in an attack that even caught Basen by surprise.

Rickik doubled over, closing his elbows over his injured stomach. Cleve followed with a slash down onto Rickik’s shoulder for the victory. It wasn’t a hard blow, for Cleve had no reason to injure the leader of the Krepps. In fact, it was probably dangerous to hurt or embarrass any of them, as it might spark another duel, but with real swords.

Basen applauded with the others. For such an honorable man, Cleve certainly seemed to have a lot of tricks. The Krepps refused to look at Rickik as he rejoined them. Many rushed forward to challenge Cleve, which started an argument among them in their throaty language.

“Cleve,” Basen said, “I need to speak with you.”

“What?” Cleve seemed reluctant to leave the center of the circle, turning toward Basen but looking back at the Krepps.

“It’s important.”

“Winner stays.” Cleve refused to move.

“Then you might be here all morning, and I don’t have time for that. Just give me a few moments. It’s about Fatholl.”

Finally, Cleve seemed to remember there was more to life than dueling. He approached Basen. “What is it?”

Before Basen could speak, the Krepps had chosen who would fight Cleve next and a large female had her sword pointed at him.

“Now me, human.” She was about Cleve’s height and looked just as strong and capable. Unlike the other Krepps, she wore a protective tunic. None of the Krepps said a word as they waited for Cleve to accept the challenge. This female had clearly earned respect the same way Sanya had during her brief time at the Academy.

Cleve looked at Basen imploringly. Basen was thankful when Peter stepped out from the crowd and stood tall and strong.

“I will fight,” he said.

Given he was about the same size as Cleve, the female Krepp seemed to take no dishonor in accepting the change. Basen watched her stride confidently toward Peter as Basen got down to business with Cleve.

“I need to know what you learned about the Elves during your time in Greenedge.”