Rise and Fall (20 page)

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Authors: Joshua P. Simon

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Epic

BOOK: Rise and Fall
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As Tobin made his way through the palace’s iron gates, he saw that his father had appeased his advisors once again. Workers expanded the ever growing gardens. Flowers, bushes, shrubs and trees, some even bearing fruit, provided a landscape flourishing with life. Though most of the garden grew plants from the Blue Islands, a separate section housed vegetation not indigenous to the Blue Islands. Here, Tobin saw herbalists studying the plants recently obtained from the Burnt Sands Desert.

No doubt for medicinal purposes.

Tobin walked across a solid path of blue stone that led through the garden and to the palace doors. Ducking the occasional branch, he passed several of his father’s guards, each barely acknowledging his presence.

Even in my father’s own house it continues.

Inside the building, chaos ruled. Workers moved at a frantic pace, almost stumbling over each other, carrying loads of stone, mortar, tools, and scaffolding; all mingling with servants still tasked with overseeing the day to day duties of the palace. The commotion made his head spin.

So many new walls up, doorways that once were, are no longer there. This place is a maze.

Snaking his way down long twisted corridors, moving from room to room, he eventually reached a winding staircase, absent of railing, which led to a second floor hallway. Reaching the top, Tobin negotiated another labyrinth of scaffolding before he located the dining hall.

Bazraki and his advisors sat around a large wooden table that dominated the space. Nachun, Lucia, and Kaz joined them. Supported by rich, hand-carved legs, the blood red color of the table stood in contrast to the equally elaborate chairs, crafted from a pale wood. Oversized windows covered by slatted shutters lined the outside walls, allowing a breeze to cool the room.

Tobin sidestepped a stack of bricks as he limped over the threshold. He caught the end of a conversation between several of Bazraki’s advisors, hearing the words “Gray Marsh Clan” and “Mawkuk,” though he was unsure of their context.

Would he attempt to conquer them before the Yellow Plain Clan? Interesting.


Brother
. Is your leg so bad that it hinders your ability to arrive on time?” said Kaz, loud enough to cause the room to take note of Tobin’s arrival.

Tobin ignored Kaz and turned instead to Bazraki. “I apologize, Father. It seems the route I used to take to the dining hall is no longer available. I was forced to find another.”

“Yes, these fools can’t seem to make up their minds on what they want to do,” said Bazraki, gesturing to a group of advisors.

The advisors his father singled out stirred in their seats at the comment, one chanced to speak. “El Olam, please forgive us if we’ve been a nuisance to you. We only wish your palace to be perfect and in order to make it that way, changes are sometimes made to the original plans.”

Bazraki waved a hand. “Enough. I hear enough of this monstrosity and your countless changes each day. I will not have it at my dinner table.”

The man bowed his head.

“El Olam?” asked Tobin, puzzled.

Nachun responded, “It means
Everlasting One
in the old tongue. I thought it only fitting as your father’s greatness will not be forgotten.”

“Everlasting One?” What is Nachun up to?

“Take your seat, Tobin. We’ve started without you,” said Bazraki, ignoring Nachun’s answer.

Tobin bowed his head in respect and sat, taking in the wide array of food adorning the table. He began filling his plate, mouth watering at the smell of spices filling the air. He took a bite of baked fish, feeling it almost melt in his mouth, and relaxed.
I always forget how much I miss Lucia’s food until I’m home again.

Tobin was set to enjoy his meal when one of Bazraki’s guests, a merchant jingling gaudy jewelry, and sleeves pushed up so as not to dirty his expensive clothing spoke over the smaller conversations in the room.

“Nachun, there were whispers in the city this morning about the awesome power you displayed in Munai. There is even talk that nature itself obeyed your commands. Surely these things cannot all be true?”

The shaman let out a light chuckle. “I appreciate the flattery but my contribution to the Blue Clan’s success that day was dependent on many others.”

Tobin grinned.
Clever.

Nachun continued, gesturing with a hand toward Tobin who had just taken a bite of bread. “For instance, without Tobin’s bow taking out three shamans and causing confusion amid our enemy’s ranks, the outcome may have turned out much differently.”

Tobin’s mouth hung open, and he nearly had to force it closed to prevent food from spilling out.

What is he doing? Now is not the place for this.

All eyes looked his way as if expecting him to speak. Kaz glared over at him, starting to simmer.

“Enough, shaman,” said Kaz.

Nachun glanced to Lucia and back to Kaz. “But Kaz, it seems your own wife is eager to hear more.”

Tobin looked over and saw that what Nachun said was true. Lucia did appear to be hanging on every word.
And looking as beautiful as ever.

“Perhaps if we shifted our focus, then? We cannot forget our Warleader, after all.” said Nachun, turning back to Lucia, who seemed to perk up further at Kaz’s mention. “Your husband was a ferocious beast on the field, slaying the desert clansmen with such intensity, the likes of which I had never seen before.” Nachun picked up a knife near his plate, imitating sword strokes. “Slashing here, stabbing there, gouging, ripping, and tearing, with each and every breath. And that was only the beginning, afterward he…”

“I said enough, shaman! It is not our way to speak about such things.” said Kaz, slamming his fist on the table, then rising to his feet as he glared at Nachun through squinted eyes.

Tobin saw Lucia frown in confusion as she looked upon her husband.
Can she really be so naïve to what Kaz is? Does he keep his true self that well hidden from her?

“Sit down, Kaz,” said Bazraki in a calm voice. “Nachun is still new to our clan. He doesn’t know that we do not boast so openly about our accomplishments.”

Nachun bowed his head. “I apologize, El Olam. I meant no harm. I only wished to honor your sons in front of so many guests.”

“Kaz is honored as Warleader of the Kifzo. His men obey and his enemies fear.
That
makes me proud.”

“And Tobin?” said Nachun, pushing the issue further.

Why is he doing this?

Bazraki shrugged, turning to Tobin. “Do you need accolades from me for performing your duties? A parade perhaps?”

“Of course not, Father,” said Tobin, eyes averted.
Not a complete lie. A kind word, even only in private would be enough, just a fraction of what you give Kaz.

“El Olam,” said Bazraki.

“Father?” asked Tobin, looking up, confused.

“You will refer to me as ‘El Olam.’”

His eyes widened in surprise, but he did not protest. “As you say…El Olam.”

Tobin remained silent throughout the rest of dinner, picking at the pile of food before him. Despite his initial hunger, he could no longer enjoy the meal. On the one occasion he chanced a look from his plate, his gaze met three faces that stung in their own unique ways; Kaz’s satisfied grin, Lucia’s frown of pity, and Nachun’s look of concern.

He was accustomed to the looks from his brother and after years of abuse, he easily ignored Kaz’s. Lucia’s expression stung harder, but again, he understood it.
Kaz has kept her in the dark after all.

But to Tobin, Nachun’s actions felt like betrayal.
Did he not listen to anything we spoke about returning from Nubinya? Why would he embarrass me in front of everyone, especially my father?
His stomach turned in disgust and immediately he decided he had enough of the evening. He pushed himself away from the table and stood, bowing. “El Olam, may I be excused?”

“Why?”

He lied. “I have some duties that need completing before the morrow.”

A chuckle from Kaz.

Bazraki cast a glance at Tobin’s food and then at him, raising an eyebrow. “Very well.”

Tobin left in a hurry. Catching a glimpse from one of the dining room windows, he saw that the moon rested high in the night sky. The long hallway, absent of workers who had finished their shift for the day, was now filled with an eerie feeling, its walls echoing even the smallest of sounds underneath its vaulted ceilings.

“Tobin, wait a moment.”

He stopped but did not turn around. “What do you want, Nachun?”

“I did not have a chance to speak with you in private.”

“I think you did enough talking tonight,” said Tobin, wheeling about to face the shaman.

“What do you mean? I only…”

“You only embarrassed me. Did you not listen to any of the things we spoke of concerning my relationship with my family?” Tobin paused. “I trusted you.”

“I only wished to help, to raise you up in your father’s eyes, so that he could better see your value.” Nachun put his head down. “I’m sorry.”

Tobin sighed, letting a long pause hang in the air. “My mother died when I was five and Kaz was six. I remember almost nothing of her, or what our family was like before her death. But I remember everything since then. From that time on, Kaz was the one my father relied on, the one he trusted, the one he was proud of, and the one he loved.” He shook his head. “I used to work so hard to be better than him. At one point, I believe I was. But that ended when Kaz was made Warleader. The things he did…,” he said trailing off. He gestured toward the ground. “And any hope I had of overtaking him or proving myself better and more capable to lead ended when he broke my ankle.”

“But you are still Bazraki’s son, his blood.”

“Blood is all I am to him. So long as he has Kaz, I am nothing else.”

“I think I understand now. I should have handled things differently.”

Tobin nodded. “Good. Then return to the meal. There is little point in you leaving with me now.”

The shaman apologized again and left. Tobin turned and slowly descended the staircase, eager to put this day behind him.

Chapter 8

 

“Why don’t you ever let me win? Everyone else does,” she said pouting.

“That’s because you’re a princess and they think they need to let you win or else they’ll fall out of favor with you,” he replied.

“Why aren’t you worried about falling out of my favor?” Elyse asked, frustrated. She stood with her hands on her hips.

The boy laughed and shook his head. “Because I’m your brother. Besides, someone needs to teach you that to get the things you want out of life, you have to work for them.”

“I get almost everything I ask for now. Why should I work?” Elyse asked in a defiant tone.

“Now, yes. But it won’t always be that way,” said the boy more serious than before.

“Why not? I’ll still be a princess.”

“Yes. Maybe even a queen one day. And people will still fawn over you, flattering you with words and gifts alike, all the while making it seem as though they are your friends and that they love you.”

“What’s wrong with that? Isn’t that what friends do?” she asked confused.

“What’s wrong is that there will be very little truth in their actions. As you grow older, you will only become more important. Dukes, barons, minor lords, and even servants will try to manipulate you to get what they want. The best ones will even make you think that it was all your idea.”

“You’re lying. Why would people do that?” asked Elyse.

The boy shrugged his shoulders. “Money. Land. Many reasons. But in the end it all comes down to power.”

The girl thought about what her brother had said for a moment, biting her bottom lip. “I’m worried. How will I know who to trust?”

He looked at her as he always did when she was troubled, in a way that made her feel safe. “You’ll have plenty of time to learn how. And I promise I’ll be there to watch out for you when you need it most.”

“What about Father? Why can’t he watch out for me?”

He sighed. “I don’t expect you to fully understand until you’re older but Father isn’t someone you can rely on…at least not anymore…not after Aurnon and mother died.” His voice caught for a moment when he mentioned their brother and mother. Elyse never had the chance to know either as Aurnon was much older and died before she was born. Her mother died from the Red Fever when she was only a few months old.

Jonrell stood up straighter after gathering himself. “And I know I’m young but I’m trying to learn all that I can. Master Amcaro said I’m one of his better students, even better than those who are much older.”

The time her brother spent studying with Master Amcaro was a sore spot for her, as it would take him away from the castle for weeks at a time. “Is that why you spend so much time on that stupid island with him? Because you can’t figure out who your real friends are?”

He sighed again. “It’s a little more complex than that. But yes, that is one of the things I’ve studied.” He paused and his tone changed to something sterner. “You should start reading more. When you get older, maybe Master Amcaro will take you to Estul as well and you can study in his great library.”

“No way,” she blurted. “You look at those boring history books. I like to read about romance and poetry.”

“You are young yet, little sister. One day, your interests will change.” His tone changed again, more caring than before as he put his arm around her. “Until then I guess I’ll just have to keep an extra eye out for you.”

* * *

“Your Majesty? Your Majesty, are you awake?” a voice echoed in her subconscious.

Elyse realized she was dreaming, dreaming of a time many years ago. The realization startled her as she jerked her head up from her folded arms. She had fallen asleep at her desk again for the third straight night. It was becoming more of a habit than she would have liked these past few weeks.

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