Trial and Glory (20 page)

“I passed his quarters on the way over,” said Raker. “He and Wiqua were in the middle of some sorcery garbage.”

Maybe Wiqua can get through to him then.

“Is there anything else that we can do to help Krytien?”

Kaz gestured to Drake.

The youth stepped forward. “Raker and I will take as much pressure off him as we can with the ballista. Lufflin and Janik modified the missiles to get through most sorcerous defenses. If we can take a few of their mages out early, it will help Krytien preserve his strength.”

“And don’t forget we got a special surprise for Nareash,” added Raker. “I still owe him for ruining my celebration in Segavona.”

Elyse gave the engineer a look. “What happened in Segavona?”

Raker opened his mouth, but Drake cut him off. “It’s nothing, Your Majesty. The point, however, is that we all plan to do what we can.”

“But ultimately it will be up to him?”

Kaz nodded. “Even if all Krytien does is negate Nareash, we can win. But if he can’t do that, well, the Kifzo cannot stop sorcery of that magnitude.”

“Why haven’t we just sent Kroke to assassinate Nareash?” asked Jeldor. “A knife to the throat would have solved our biggest problem. From what I gather, he is excellent at those sorts of missions. In fact, we still might have time for Kroke to take Nareash down.”

“He suggested the same thing to me,” said Kaz. “I told him no. I need him here on the wall. His ability to rally men and hold a section is more important to me than the remote possibility he could kill an overly cautious High Mage. ”

“But maybe he could at least narrow down some of the enemy’s lesser mages,” Jeldor continued.

“The risk isn’t worth it considering Raker and Drake’s plan for accomplishing that goal.”

“Then we just hope for the best?”

“No,” said Kaz. “We simply trust Krytien.”

* * *

Kaz walked out of the war room and descended a set of stairs.

Despite the late hour, the fortress buzzed with activity as everyone prepared for what Kaz knew would be the final clash of arms. Men saluted him as he passed.

He entered the infirmary and made sure to pay his respects to those injured on his way to see Wiqua.

The old man raised his head as Kaz approached. “You look troubled.”

“And you look tired.”

Wiqua chuckled. “Name me one person stationed here who doesn’t.” He changed subjects, while counting jars of herbs and elixirs. “I take it you just spoke with Her Majesty.”

“She and several of my officers. How did you know she was there?”

Kaz reflected on how exhausted Elyse looked. He knew she had been working doggedly as of late, though on what, he did not know.

“Your heart never appears as heavy as it does after a conversation with her.”

“She seems colder every time we speak. She doesn’t even refer to me by my name anymore, only as ‘Commander.’”

“I believe it’s her way to cope with all that’s happened. She’s keeping her distance from everyone, not just you.” He shook his head. “It’s a sad thing to see, but not uncommon for those in her position.”

“The woman I once knew is disappearing.”

“That person is still there, and when she’s ready, Elyse will allow her to come through again. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything to her purposefully.”

“You’re right.”

“As usual.”

Kaz snorted. “You sound like Hag now.”

“She’s ever on my mind.”

“She believed in the One Above, as do most others from these lands. Do you think she made it to him and is looking down on us?”

“Not likely.” The old man began to chuckle. “She’s probably too busy seducing the poor souls up there with her.”

The two shared a few laughs as Wiqua performed a quick healing spell on Kaz to increase his energy and remove the dull aches plaguing him. Kaz had wanted to tell the man to save his power, but he knew Wiqua well enough to keep quiet. Besides, he actually didn’t mind the attention.

It’s far more than my own father ever showed me.

* * *

Kaz passed the armory where Cisod worked on last minute adjustments to weapons and armor. Jeldor met him around the next bend in the corridor.

“Commander! Just the man I wanted to see. You left so quickly after our meeting I didn’t have a chance to speak with you in private.”

“Oh?”

“I won’t take much of your time. I just wanted to talk to you now in case something happens and I can’t later.” He paused. “It’s been an honor. I’m ashamed to admit that like many others, I had my doubts about your capabilities, in no small part due to my own prejudices. But you’ve proven me wrong at every turn. I know we butt heads quite often, but I have the utmost respect for you.”

Jeldor held out his hand.

After collecting himself from the surprise, Kaz accepted it. He had been despised when he first arrived in the foreign lands because of his appearance and personality.

The Cadonians have come a long way in a short time. As have I.

He thought of his promise to Itken.

Will I be able to change an entire culture?

* * *

The engineers met as one unit at the center of the inner wall. Drake watched Raker, backlit by two braziers, give the group a speech Drake didn’t know the sour veteran had in him. It spoke of courage, persistence, valor, and every other trait that described the heroes Drake recalled hearing in stories from his youth.

Granted, those tales did not use quite so colorful language.

“Now, who wouldn’t want to be known for all of those things?” Raker asked.

The old engineer nodded as his question received several “aye’s” from the group. He spat to the side.

“Well, not me. In a hundred years when someone is reading about this battle, I want my name in the records. But I want to be known as the meanest, most vile person on these walls.” He pointed over his shoulder. “And if they win, I want them cursing my name for centuries to come, not praising me for doing the honorable thing.” He spat again. “So, if one of the enemy is near you, suffering, hands at his stomach, doing all he can to stop the tide of blood from flowing, don’t give him mercy. Let him bleed.”

The group had grown so quiet you could hear a pebble drop.

Too much. He lost them.

He started to open his mouth to salvage Raker’s speech when the man next to him jumped up, shouting at the top of his lungs in agreement. Within half a breath, the whole group did the same.

Raker pointed with his stump toward the middle wall. “Get to your stations then, and keep your heads on, lads. Give them something to remember you by!”

Drake stared at the soldiers running off to their posts.

Unbelievable.

“Impressed?” asked Raker, coming up to Drake.

“Actually, yes.”

“Don’t be. I just improvised a speech Ronav gave years ago.”

“I knew you couldn’t come up with something original.”

“The way I figure it, there’s only about a dozen or two original speeches ever. Everyone since then has just put their own spin on them.” He slapped Drake on the shoulder. “You might find this hard to believe, but you don’t have to reinvent everything, kid.”

“I guess not,” Drake grunted.

“Now, let’s get going. I bet that mage friend of yours ten gold coins my crew would outdo yours today.”

“Janik? Ten gold?”

“Aye.”

Drake smirked. “Why don’t we make it twenty?”

* * *

Yanasi knew immediately that Kaz’s hunch had been right. The enemy made no effort to hide their intentions. Thousands of warriors shuffled on top of the outer wall behind their makeshift barricade of wood and stone. This would be it.

And with the traps in the killing ground sprung, little will slow them down.

“There sure are a lot of them,” said Rygar.

“Thanks for the scouting report, but we already knew that.” She tried to make light of the situation, despite her nerves, but the comment came out wrong.

Rygar must have understood her intent, because he only smiled. “I know. It’s just different looking at them from this perspective.”

Rhythmic pounding of spear and boots against stone sounded from the outer wall. Swords rose over their makeshift barricades. War cries began.

It’s almost time.

“I love you,” she whispered to Rygar, eyes not leaving the enemy.

A hand soaked in nervous sweat grabbed hers and squeezed. “I love you too.”

* * *

Kroke’s heartbeat grew louder as he waited at the ramp. Though he knew the invaders would cross the killing ground with ladders to scale the inner walls, he understood their best chance at gaining a foothold was to seize the ramp where he waited.

Where the fighting will be thickest.

Kaz stood a few men down, staring intently at the enemy. Without the armor Cisod created for him, he seemed like a regular soldier.

Although a big one.

Kroke hoped the ruse would work.

“Get out of my way,” a deep voice boomed behind Kroke.

He glanced over his shoulder as Crusher pushed his way to the front, muttering about little men.

The Ghal took up position next to Kroke. “You?”

Kroke didn’t look up. “Yep. Me.”

A long, uncomfortable pause followed that began to make Kroke’s fingers itch.

I did kill his brother.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” said Crusher.

Kroke tensed.

“Kaz told me the truth about Grin. For what it’s worth, we weren’t what you would call close.”

“Alright.”

“Thought I should let you know. You know, just in case you were worried I might try something.”

“I wasn’t,” said Kroke.

“No?”

“Nah, it would have been nice to humble you a bit though.” Kroke eyed the Ghal.

Crusher’s confusion slowly turned into a smile. A meaty hand slapped Kroke’s back, nearly knocking the wind out of him. “You’re alright.”

Kroke did his best to catch his breath without the Ghal noticing.

A cacophony of weapons clanging, boots pounding, and voices screaming, rose from the outer wall.

Crusher readied his warhammer. “Music to my ears. I do believe today is going to be a good day for killing.”

Kroke inhaled a lungful of crisp morning air. Coupled with the vibrations of the enemy’s war cries, the cool breeze sent bumps crawling up his arms. Blades appeared in his hands.

“Every day is a good day for killing.”

Crusher nodded in agreement. “Aye.”

Chapter 14

Soldiers poured out the tunnel under the outer wall like a damn bursting.

“Front lines, loose!” Yanasi shouted.

The enemy stumbled through a fog of arrows and spears, shields in one hand, ladders in the other.

Enemy arrows from the outer wall took flight, heading toward her position.

“Front lines, shields! Back lines, release!”

Three shafts from the enemy struck the oaken wood of her shield as bowstrings behind her continued to strum.

She cursed the next volley that reached her, barely managing one release of her own in between. Warriors sprinted ever closer to the middle wall.

We’re not putting enough pressure on them.

“Formation eight!” she called.

She lowered her shield and readied her bow. Rygar moved in closer with a wider shield overhead, so close she felt his breath on her neck.

Her men broke off in pairs, doing the same.

Yanasi had invented the formation after Cathyrium. Every other soldier in her company would continue to release arrows until told otherwise while the person next to them used a shield larger than standard issue to cover both soldiers from enemy projectiles.

Yanasi fell into a steady tempo with her bow, aiming at the lead warrior carrying each ladder. Arrows pounded the wood above her.

* * *

Men dropped like wind-blown stalks of wheat as arrow and javelin thudded into them. Hundreds died. Thousands came.

Kroke waited impatiently on the ramp, men to his left and right, ten across. His arms shook, but not in fear, only in anticipation. Arrows arched overhead, aimed at the walls, though some fell short and flitted into the ranks on the ramp. For that reason, Kroke kept one eye on the sky.

“Let’s get on with this,” muttered Crusher.

Kroke couldn’t agree more. Most soldiers fought where you assigned them, but few ever requested the most dangerous spots. With a quick glance to either side, he saw men licking lips, eyes narrowing rather than widening as the enemy closed. Mouths casually formed into smiles.

These are my people.

The invaders stormed up the ramp with no semblance of formation or unity.

“I love it when they’re so eager to die,” said Crusher as his warhammer came up.

Kroke never saw it fall, but he heard the wet crunch as he engaged the first man to reach him. He ducked under a wild sword stroke, and brought the blade in his left hand up under his opponent’s chin. He yanked the knife free, before the gout of blood could soak his free hand.

The body fell sideways, and the next man hurdled it. A thrust to the abdomen rewarded the soldier’s eagerness.

The cramped space and disorganized assault of the enemy worked to Kroke’s advantage. His thin frame dodged under and slipped the enemy’s attacks, finding holes in each man’s defense.

Sparing a quick look around between surges, he noted that none of the bodies on the stone ramp belonged to allies. Their best fighters formed the front line of their defense, and each had a pile of the enemy at their feet, some bigger than others.

The next wave hit the bottom of the ramp, climbing upward. Kroke breathed in deeply. He wanted to make sure that at the end of the day, his pile dwarfed the others.

* * *

Raker’s crew scooped another cache of coals from one of the braziers at their station, loading the mangonel’s bucket. Senald pulled the release and the arm snapped forward. Glowing balls of red sailed through the air with streaking tails of orange.

The little pieces of hell cascaded down, bouncing off shields. Some found their way between gaps in the invaders’ armor. Writhing in pain, those men fell to the ground. They pulled at their armor, suddenly oblivious to the battle around them, focused only on stopping the fire.