Trial and Glory (42 page)

“Now, tell me what you really want.”

Kaz smiled.

He knows me well.

Kaz explained his situation, repeating much of what he had said to Crusher and then provided even greater detail of what specifically had been occupying his thoughts. Wiqua listened with eyes unwavering.

When Kaz stopped, the silence between them stretched. Wiqua sighed. “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it. You just have to do it.”

Wiqua snorted in a way that reminded Kaz of Hag. “You make it sound easy.” He heaved a sigh. “Very well. Let me have a look. There is no harm in doing that.”

Wiqua leaned forward, wrapped his thin hands around Kaz’s bald pate. Fingertips probed his skull with varying degrees of pressure. Unlike the healing process itself, Kaz felt nothing more than the physical pushing of the old man. After a few moments, Wiqua sat back, hands returning to his lap.

“Well?” Kaz asked.

“There is nothing I can do.”

“Can do or will do?”

“Can. And I’m thankful for it. Because I don’t want to touch your mind again. You know I won’t deny someone the chance to be healed if it is their choice. However, in your case there is nothing to heal. Everything appears as it should.”

“Then why can’t I recall something as important as why I hate my brother?”

Wiqua shrugged. “Perhaps it isn’t time for you to recall it.”

Kaz stood, frustrated. “If not now, when? After I make the wrong decision? There is so much resting on decisions only I can make. I need to have more information.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

Kaz punched a nearby beam, splitting his knuckles.
That was foolish.
He opened and closed his hand. Nothing felt broken. His shoulders relaxed and he closed his eyes. “Say that everything will be alright. Say that I’ll be able to handle this all in the best possible manner. Say that when this is over, I’ll be happier than I ever have been in my entire life.”

Wiqua frowned.

“I know. That wasn’t fair of me. I’m sorry.”

Wiqua stood. He rested his hand on Kaz’s arm, squeezing tight with a grip surprising for someone his age. “I don’t know what will happen. I want it to all be right, but there is a strong chance it won’t. Regardless, I promise I’ll be at your side as will the rest of your friends.”

Chapter 30

Kroke and the others rode hard into the quiet night. Avoiding roads, they maneuvered through the forests around Lyrosene and tied their horses some distance away from the city before sneaking into position.

Kroke crouched behind a bush that sat near the edge of the forest facing the northern wall. Just as he remembered, the forest had not been cut back as far as others. Lyrosene officials assumed any attack would come from the south, and therefore saw little need to waste the effort in trimming it back further.

“Now?” asked Geran.

“No,” said Kroke.

“How about now?” asked Niken sometime later.

He shook his head, trying to keep from snapping at them for their impatience. Only Cassus remained quiet.

He knows better.

Kroke would not be rushed. He watched the guards patrolling the walls, counting the time between each of their passes, judging when best to sprint toward the small blind spot between the northern gate and the tower guarding it. He had pointed out the weakness to the Watch’s captain on his first trip to Cadonia’s capital. Kroke still remembered the captain’s dismissive response.

“That’s nothing to concern yourself about. No more than one man can make that climb at a time.”

“One man can do a lot of damage,” suggested Kroke.

“Not against my men,” said the captain, laughing as he walked away.

The guards passed by once more. He turned back to the others. “Count to thirty-eight the moment I leave, then follow. Cassus you’re next. Then Niken. Geran you have the rear.”

Heads nodded.

Kroke slid small spikes over the palms of his hands. He counted the last few seconds, and sprinted into the clearing. Two steps before reaching the bottom of the wall, he sprang upward, spikes digging into cracks in the mortar. Hand-over-hand he moved, his feet barely scuffing the stone surface. The skin and muscle from his mended stomach ached with each pull of his arms. He grit his teeth, thankful to see the top.

He flipped over the side of the battlements into a crouch, removing the spikes from his hands and drawing knives in their places.

A guard exited the tower’s arched opening. He carried a spear over his shoulder, but it could have been a broom the way the man held it. The guard gazed toward the city rather than where he should have been looking. Kroke slithered along the shadows, springing into the guard’s path.

The guard opened his mouth to scream, but choked on his own blood.

Kroke pulled his knives free of the man’s neck and side, as Cassus crested the wall.

Cassus hurried over. He propped the body up to make it appear as if he scanned the woods beyond the wall.

“Are you alright?” Cassus asked in a labored whisper.

Kroke gave him a confused look. “Why?”

“Just seemed a bit slow during the climb.”

“You’re the one breathing heavy. I’m fine. There are two more on the other side of the tower.”

Cassus nodded just as Niken came over the wall.

Kroke passed through the arched doorway, slipped around a barrel of arrows and a small supply of foodstuffs. On the opposite side of the tower, two guards spoke in voices much too loud as they passed around a skin of wine. Kroke finished each quickly, dragging one body inside the tower while positioning the other up in as lifelike of a manner as he could manage. He returned to the others.

“Are we clear?” asked Cassus.

“Yes.” Kroke nodded to two new bodies that Geran and Niken stood over. “What happened?”

“Two from the gatehouse. They came back quicker than before. Geran and Niken surprised them.”

Kroke swore. “C’mon, we need to move.” He re-entered the tower.

“I thought we were going to skirt the wall for a bit,” said Niken as they hit the stairs.

“Change of plans. Something was going on for those two guards to show up so early. Others will be along shortly. We’ll have to make our way through the city instead.”

“That could take twice as long,” said Geran.

“Then we’ll have to move twice as fast,” Kroke snapped.

They only made it down one level when frantic shouts came from above, followed by a horn. Kroke swore again.

“That didn’t take long,” muttered Cassus.

In response to the alarm, footsteps entered the stairwell below.

Kroke rushed forward. Even after the alarm sounded, the half dozen guards seemed shocked by the descending attackers. Kroke dove into them, knives slashing. The others followed. Steel rang in the enclosed stairwell, drowning out the grunts and curses.

The last man fell. Kroke glanced over his shoulder to assess the others. Except for a few heavy breaths, a bit of extra sweat, and splatters of blood from the men they killed, everyone appeared fine.

He pushed on, stopping for a moment at the tower’s doorway leading out to the street. Heavy-footed guardsmen came from the wide street to the right, while another squad exited the barracks to the left.

“Move!” he yelled, sprinting to a narrow alley across from the gatehouse.

Shouts sounded to either side. Crossbow bolts whistled past his ears as he rushed forward.

In the alley, Kroke used the passageways crisscrossing their path to their advantage. He took several turns, snaking about in a way that must have seemed random to anyone on their trail. Confused shouts and arguments from behind enforced his opinion. However, he moved with purpose, feet padding lightly along the dank paths, hurdling trash and homeless alike.

He pulled up near the mouth of an alley that faced the wide street he had avoided earlier.

Cassus and the others came up behind him, sucking wind.

“What are we stopping for?” asked Cassus. “We haven’t lost them yet.”

“We’re not going to. There are too many. We need to separate.”

“What? We weren’t supposed to split until—”

“Things change.” In the dark, Kroke strained his eyes and pointed to a trellis. “Hurry, and hide on the roof.” He hitched his thumb at Niken and Geran. “We’ll get back in the alleys to draw them away. I doubt they’ll know you aren’t with us. Once we’re gone, get to the gatehouse and do what we talked about.”

“So, you’re just going to run around the city like bait?”

Kroke shrugged. “We’ll try to get to the gatehouse if we can.”

“What if I don’t make it?”

“You’ll make it.” He slapped Cassus on the back and then turned toward the maze, not wanting to give Cassus a chance to respond.

They waited in an intersection until soldiers from the watch spotted them.

“Let’s go,” Kroke hollered, dashing off into another narrow passageway, jumping over old crates and rotted vegetables. His head swiveled about at each intersection, looking for his next path as more members of the watch joined the hunt.

* * *

Cassus peeked over the side of the roof, watching Kroke lead Geran and Niken away. The thunderous pounding of heavy boots echoed between the buildings. Muffled curses and clinking mail joined the mix of sounds.

One Above, I thought I’d be watching his back, but he’s ensuring my safety. I can’t let it be wasted.

He began descending the trellis. Halfway down, he froze. Two guards crossed into the intersection. Rather than following the others, they moved toward him.

“What are you doing? Everyone went this way,” said one.

“Exactly. Two dozen are following them with another dozen circling around to meet them on the other side. Plus that yellow-robed mage. They don’t need us,” said the other.

“So, we head back to the wall?”

“Eventually. We can hang out here for a few minutes and rest first. The real army is on its way from what I hear. That’s when the real fighting is going to begin. I’d rather not be tired from chasing around a couple of bums sneaking into the city.”

“And what if someone comes by and sees us standing around?”

“No one’s going to come by.”

They stopped closer to the mouth of the alley, several steps away from where Cassus hung thirty feet above them.

Cassus clenched his jaw. Each moment he waited for them to move was one less he had to make it to the gatehouse.

He could try to climb up and hope he could lower himself on the opposite side of the building. However, the likelihood of him doing so silently didn’t seem reasonable. The same went for climbing down.

Kroke would be better at this.

Chancing a jump and using the two guardsmen to support his fall was an option, although a bad one.

If I didn’t break my leg on the landing, I’d still have to fight them afterward.
He looked up.
One Above, I could really use a break.

Cassus almost chuckled aloud at the absurdity of his request.

A side door into the alley opened, causing the two guards to jump. An older man came stumbling into the passage, carrying a skin of wine.

I guess the request wasn’t so absurd after all.

“What are you doing on the streets, old man? There’s a curfew and it’s almost morning,” said one of the guards.

The old man mumbled something Cassus couldn’t make out.

“Why don’t we take that wine from you old timer? Maybe then we’ll forget we saw you this time.”

“Yeah, that would be best for everyone,” said the other.

The guard reached for the skin, but the old man protested. The two men fought for the wine, while the other guard laughed. Cassus used the commotion to mask the sound of his descent behind them.

He stayed in the shadows, inching closer. He reached for a dagger, and then thought better of it.

I can’t get blood on at least one of them. I need the disguise.

The guardsman finally had enough of the old man. A closed fist sent him sprawling into a stack of crates. The drunkard lay unconscious. However, the skin tore in the process, covering the guard in wine. His friend could not contain himself, laughter growing louder.

Cassus seized advantage of the opportunity and rushed forward.

He raised both arms overhead, hands clenched into a large fist. The weight of the blow struck the laughing guardsman on the back of his head. He crumbled to the ground.

The other guardsman looked up. His hand went to his sword while his mouth formed the beginnings of a shout. Cassus kicked the guard in the crotch, cutting off the sound. He punched the guard’s face. The guard staggered, but did not fall.

Cassus scooped up a loose board from one of the broken crates. He slammed it against the side of the guard’s head. The blow knocked him unconscious.

He stripped the clothes off the first guard, throwing them over his own. He then dragged both bodies further into the alley, covering them as best as he could with broken crates and an assortment of trash.

He strode out the alley.

“Hey, what are you doing out here by yourself?”

Cassus muttered a curse as he turned. A small patrol of the watch had spotted him walking down the wide street.

“I was chasing the scum that got over the wall. I got separated in all the confusion and came out the alley to gather my bearings.”

The man, who Cassus noticed held the rank of Sergeant, raised an eyebrow. “I ain’t never seen you around here before.”

“I’m from the Quarter District. Joined up last week. Well actually, I got pressured into joining on account of the queen returning with her army.”

The answer seemed to satisfy the man. He spat. “Same thing happened to my kid brother. He’s barely got whiskers and they’re asking him to hold a spear.”

“Hopefully your brother won’t see much action.”

“Hopefully . . .”

“Well, I really need to find the rest of my squad and—”

“Don’t worry about that,” said the man, cutting him off. “Orders came in that all men not currently at their posts are to head toward the main gate. The queen is expected to arrive soon. You can fall in with us.”