Rise and Fall (35 page)

Tobin stood at the entranceway to the room, looking at the only parent he had known since he was five and wondered what the man had been like before his mother died. From what his uncle had told him, Bazraki had always been driven but it wasn’t until her passing that his quest for power and dominance over Hesh had become an obsession.

She must have been special to him. What little I heard Kaz speak of her, I know he felt the same. And yet I remember nothing of my life during the time she was alive. Not her touch, not her voice, not even her face.

The guard announced their arrival. He could see now that his father coped with the loss of Kaz similarly to Tobin’s mother. His father’s goals of conquest became as grand as the walls he built around himself.

And what would you do if I were to disappear, Father?
Tobin was afraid to even pose such a question, unsure he wanted to hear the answer.

Waving a hand to dismiss the guard, Bazraki turned to face them. Tobin noticed his father’s shoulders were bunched and the muscles in his jaw tightened and relaxed with each intake of breath.

This can’t be good. Is it possible that he’s learned the truth about Kaz? No. Nachun swore that no one would discover anything. Why would that change now?

“There has been an uprising in Nubinya,” said Bazraki, his voice flat.

“When? By whom?” asked Nachun.

“Weeks ago, though we just received word today. Some noble had remained hidden outside of the city until after our departure. He was able to rally enough supporters from the smaller hamlets to his cause. His rebellion killed over a hundred of our men before order was restored. More than double the causalities on their side. We captured the noble alive but torture does not work on the man. He will not tell us about his co-conspirators. The city is now undermanned and tension remains high. I need to send someone with a strong hand to crush any remnants of resistance before things get out of control once again.”

“And you would have me go, Father?” asked Tobin. “I’m sorry,” he added with a bow, “El Olam.”

His father glared at his son but ignored the mistake. “No. I have other plans for you.”

“What would you have me do?” asked Tobin.

“I need you to choose a Kifzo I can send to teach these people a lesson. We will send with this person twenty-five Kifzo and a hundred soldiers from our regular forces. You may choose the Kifzo only.”

Tobin was confused. “Why would you have me select the Kifzo?”

“Because I’ve decided that until your brother returns to us that someone must act as Warleader in his stead. I’ve had my doubts about you in the past, but since his disappearance you have shown me something with your training. The rest of your brethren have responded by following your example and are training with a renewed vigor. Since they are now under your command, you should decide which you can do without.”

Act in Kaz’s stead? I can’t believe that after all this time with no word from the kidnappers, he still thinks Kaz will return. And me? Warleader? That can’t be possible.

Memories that Tobin had not had since he was a boy flooded his mind. He used to dream about making his father proud by leading soldiers into battle and conquering in his name.

But when he was fourteen and Kaz fifteen, the Testing to choose the next Warleader came. Five boys, including Tobin and Kaz, were the best among the Kifzo. Kaz became Warleader by doing things Tobin would not consider.

Any dream he had of leading the Kifzo and making his father proud ended that day.
But now I can prove to my father that he had made a mistake all those years ago. I can…
A small shooting pain in his ankle jarred him from his thoughts as he shifted his weight to his good leg. He closed his mouth, realizing it still hung open in shock from Bazraki’s news. “I’m sorry but how can I lead the Kifzo with my ankle?”

Bazraki nodded. “I’ve already thought of that. You will have it healed.”

“Shamans have tried to heal my ankle before. They’ve all said that too much time had passed for them to heal it any better than what it is now.”

“Yes, but I’ve been assured that those results would have been different if treated sooner.”

“I don’t understand,” said Tobin.

“It’s simple really. I’m not sure why the thought had not occurred to me before. We are going to break your ankle again and then heal it anew,” said Bazraki.

“Is that possible?” asked Tobin, glancing toward Nachun.

Nachun nodded. “Yes. But, the ankle will need to be practically shattered.”

Tobin cringed at the thought, and his ankle throbbed harder as if in anticipation of such trauma.
And what if this doesn’t work? Will I even be able to walk?
He looked back to his father. “Do I have a say in this?”

“No,” said Bazraki in a tone that meant his decision was made. “You just implied that a Warleader cannot lead with only one leg.”

“Then when will it happen?” asked Tobin in a low voice.

“Tonight, after you have made your selections,” said Bazraki. “But first I will have your answer. Who should I send to Nubinya?”

“Durahn,” Tobin blurted.
That came out with little trouble.

His father raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? He is a fierce warrior.”

“And therefore will bring the city quickly under control.”

“Will you not miss him in battle?” asked Bazraki.

“Battle?”

“Nubinya’s revolt will not hinder my plans. We will push forward,” said Bazraki.

I wonder if anything would hinder your plans.
“All Kifzo have skill. You have always taught us that one man should not be placed higher than the rest, except as Warleader. We will not suffer from the loss of one man, not even one the size of Durahn.”
If anything we will be stronger. If I am to be Warleader, I will not have him undermine my authority as Kaz so often allowed. Why my brother never rid himself of Durahn, I’ll never know.

“Then the matter is closed. The other twenty-five are yours to choose as well. I do not need to know their names. I have already isolated the hundred that will accompany Durahn from the rest of my army. They will set out first thing in the morning.”

Tobin nodded and was ready for his father to dismiss him when Nachun blurted out a question. “Might I offer a suggestion?” said the shaman.

Bazraki inclined his head. “What is it?”

“I thought that now would be a good time to let Tobin in on your future plans, specifically those we’ve recently discussed.”

Bazraki eyed his son with a contemplative look.

“I suppose you are right,” said Bazraki, beginning to pace the room. “We will invade the Yellow Plain, conquering Actur and the Yellow Clan next.”

“The Yellow Plain Clan? They are more than double our size,” said Tobin.

Bazraki halted, glaring at his son. “Does their size scare you? Maybe I made a mistake in selecting you as Warleader. Kaz would never shy away from such a challenge.”

Tobin clenched his fists in frustration but kept his emotions from creeping into his voice. “You made no mistake. Their number could be ten times our strength and I would lead the Kifzo into battle and victory. I was merely stating fact.”

Bazraki let out a grunt, its significance a mystery to Tobin. “Good.” He paused. “But you are right. They are much larger, even with those warriors from the Desert Clan we absorbed into our own ranks. I do not doubt our victory, but I am also not so blind that I can’t see our losses would be great and would weaken us for the future.” His father continued pacing before returning to his spot by the window.

He has a plan, but he wants me to ask just so he can be smug about it. With each success, his arrogance grows. Fine, I’ll humor you.
“How will you circumvent such an outcome?”

“Nachun’s weapons and armor should help. But that is not enough. Any man that dies today is one fewer who can fight for me tomorrow,” said Bazraki, still gazing out over Juanoq and once again growing silent.

Tobin sighed to himself.
How long am I going to have to keep this up?
“What else is there?” he asked.

Bazraki turned. “The Gray Marshes.”

“The Gray Marshes? I don’t understand,” said Tobin.

Bazraki nodded to Nachun and resumed pacing. “Tell him.”

The shaman cleared his throat. “Apparently some time ago, before conquering the Orange Desert Clan, your father sent Kaz to meet with Mawkuk, the leader of the Gray Marsh Clan, and offered him an alliance. However, since your brother’s disappearance, they have not responded to our latest messages. You and I are to leave for Cypronya and meet with their war council to finalize terms in person.”

“When do we leave?” asked Tobin.

“As soon as the healers say you are safe to travel,” said Nachun.

“You will not fail me,” said Bazraki. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, El Olam.”

* * *

Halfway down the staircase, safe from his father’s ears, Tobin swung about to face Nachun. “So, how much of that were you already aware of?”

Nachun shrugged. “All of it, more or less.”

Tobin threw up his hands. “It would have been nice to have some sort of warning.”

“You’re focusing on the negative. Your father is starting to understand your worth now that Kaz is out of the way, just as I said he would. Taking advantage of such an opportunity is what you should focus on.” He paused and started walking once again. Tobin followed close behind. “I had thought of telling you sooner—but does it matter if you found out a week ago or today? I doubt your reaction would be any different, and a more sincere reaction is best.”

“Why would he want to wait until the last minute?”

“Because he can. Power does strange things to people once they have it.”

Tobin thought about Kaz’s behavior as well as his father’s and couldn’t help but agree with Nachun. “So it does. Still, I never thought my father would consider an alliance with anyone.”

Nachun grunted. “After Mawkuk ignored his messages, your father had all but changed his mind and was ready to attack instead for their slight. I had to convince him that sending an emissary to solidify an alliance would not be a sign of weakness. Then I reminded him that his plan to conquer the Yellow Plain was a more logical decision rather than have our forces isolated in the Gray Marshes with an enemy between us.”

“Sound reasoning,” said Tobin.

The shaman cleared his throat. Tobin followed Nachun’s gaze and saw Lucia at the end of the hallway, her arm draped over one of the servants as they spoke. She wore a simple brown dress, as plain as the serving woman’s.

I can’t talk to her now.
Just as he decided to take a different route, Lucia spotted him, smiling and waving. Tobin looked back toward Nachun, hoping for a way out of the situation but the shaman had disappeared.

Lucia hurried down the hall toward him, Jober following at a distance, head held high and short sword hung at his hip. Tobin felt a hint of bitterness as he considered that the former stable hand now spent every waking moment shadowing the woman of his desires while he had refrained from contact with her whenever possible.

Instead, I watch her from a distance, spying on her from the shadows like some thief. Why does guilt still haunt me when I know that she is better without Kaz in her life?
Her smile widened as she got closer.
Probably because she hasn’t reached that same conclusion?

She embraced him with a hug. The warmth of her body and smell of her hair twisted his stomach into knots. “It’s good to see you,” she said in a soft voice, as she pulled away.

“It’s always good to see you, too,” said Tobin, trying to smile.

“Then why have you only joined me for dinner once since we spoke on the training yard?”

Because I’m not able to put aside any lingering guilt around you.
“I’m sorry. I have been preoccupied, I guess,” Tobin said, averting his eyes from hers.

“Will you join me tonight? I’d like to talk to you. So much has happened.”

“I wish I could, but I was just on my way to carry out orders from my father. Then I’m afraid I must make preparations to leave with Nachun.”

She scowled. “I do not like that shaman.”

“What? Why not?”
She’s never mentioned this before.

“It’s just a feeling. One that Kaz shared.”

“Kaz was not right about everything.”
Why is that so hard for you to see?

Her smiled disappeared and she bit her lip. “Be careful,” said Lucia.

“I always am.”

She hugged him once again, abruptly ending their conversation, her touch lacking the warmth from earlier. She turned and left without another word, not even sparing a glance back. Still, Tobin saw how much their encounter had brought her down.

Chapter 15

Brooding, Kaz rocked back and forth in his saddle. The Hell Patrol had traveled hard for several days, moving ever closer toward Mudhole Bay. There, Jonrell said the group should have better luck recruiting. Kaz noted the commander growing frustrated at the number of abandoned homesteads.

Even though Kaz had understood almost nothing of the exchange between Denneth and Jonrell, he had developed an immediate distaste for the way Denneth carried himself. Later, Hag had translated a summary of what was said and Kaz felt his earlier suspicions about the man confirmed. He could not understand why anyone would want to live life cowering in fear with such a man as their leader.

Jonrell rode several paces in front of Kaz and talked in earnest with one of the recruits from the Hideaway that had joined them. Both men joked as if long lost friends.

Why do I not mind following this stranger to places unknown? What makes Jonrell different than Denneth?

The question had occurred to him several times over the last day. He realized it was probably due to the images and scenes that would occasionally flash in his mind. He knew that he had once been in a position of command but those briefest moments of battle provided too little of information for him to discern anything more. One thing did stand out and it troubled him. He could still see the eyes of the men he had commanded and their look more closely matched Denneth’s followers rather than those who followed Jonrell.