Rise and Fall (62 page)

Perfect.

Jonrell lied. “I will take your terms to the queen, but I was given strict orders not to accept any beneath our own. Would you care to hear them?”

Tomalt nodded.

“You will leave your entire army under my command with the exception of one thousand men who may accompany you back to Bolysius. You will remain there while we settle matters with the other dukes. After that time, the queen will make a decision in regards to your punishment for transgressions against the city of Namaris.”

“And if I refuse?” asked Tomalt, wearing a smile hinting of amusement.

“Then you will forfeit all your lands to the crown. And we will kill anyone who stands in our way of claiming them. In the end, you will face death.”

Tomalt’s smile thinned at the last comment, turning into a scowl.

One of his men grunted in amusement. “We outnumber you, six to one, Commander,” said the man. “Even with the walls of Cathyrium, you cannot hope to win.”

Jonrell leaned in his saddle, glaring at the soldier. “What are you? A captain? Have you ever even seen battle, before?”

The man said nothing.

“I didn’t think so.” He looked over the rest of the group. “I bet none of you have.” He nodded back to Kaz. “The kind of men I have manning my walls are just like him. They’ve seen battle. Six to one odds you say? I think those favor me greatly.” He looked back to Tomalt. “Battle is something I know well, better than any of you. Refuse my terms and you will die. Even if I have to kill you myself. I expect your answer tomorrow.”

Jonrell spun his mount toward the castle. Kaz rode next to him.

Chapter 27

Raker leaned over the tower’s parapet and spat. He watched the tobacco-filled juice fall and hit a mangled corpse–-the helm of which was imprinted with that of a mace. Hitting the mark brought a hoarse chuckle from his lips.

Raker had been so busy working the mangonel to harass the opposition from a distance, that he had neglected to notice the scaling ladders the enemy flung against the castle’s walls until men started pulling themselves over the ramparts. He had just enough time to race down the drum tower to help the guards struggling there. His mace struck a soldier’s head as it peeked over the top rung of the ladder. Raker watched the man take three others with him on the way down. Men pushed the ladder over and he cackled as several others let out a scream.

After another short assault, Tomalt had pulled his men back, settling for another failed attempt, the fourth in as many days. Tomalt tried something different with each one, probing the castle’s defenses before retreating to the safety of their camp, just out of the range of trebuchets.

Or so they think.

“Raker.”

The mercenary turned. “Drake, what’re you doing here?”

“Jonrell told me to run over here during a lull in the action. He told me that you needed to place someone else in charge for now and that it was time to ruin Tomalt’s day.”

Raker spat and revealed a rotted out grin. “About time.” He turned to his right. “Senald, you ready for this?”

“Ready for what, Sir?”

“To man this tower, boy.”

“I guess so.”

“You better do more than guess. Look, I’ll be down in the yard by the trebuchets. But don’t think I won’t be able to tell if you ain’t running my baby here like she should be run,” he said slapping the mangonel. “And if she ain’t treated right, well you and me are gonna have words later,” he said, moving his hand to his mace. “You with me?”

Senald gulped. “Yes, sir.”

Man, I love that scared look.
“Good. Then she’s yours.”

Raker followed Drake down the drum tower’s stairs when he grabbed the boy by the shoulder. “What in the name of the One Above is that you got round your waist?”

“A sword.”

“What have I told you about swords? Engineers don’t need some fancy sword to do their fighting. If he ain’t manning his equipment, all he’s got time to do is swing something heavy and hard. I thought I gave you a mace of your own.”

“Uh, you did. It’s just that well, it was too heavy and hard for me to use. I’m only fourteen. Maybe in the future...”

“So instead you gonna stab yourself with that thing?”

“No, I’ve been getting lessons.”

“Lessons from who?”

“Uh, no one important.”

Raker cursed. “You been learning from that black dog, ain’t you?”

“Kaz isn’t a dog.”

“Close enough I say.”

“Well, you’re becoming the minority then, because all anyone’s been talking about is how well he’s been doing leading sorties out into the city and harassing Tomalt’s men. They say he’s saved at least a hundred men’s lives and put a hundred enemies in the grave himself.”

“Bah, that’s nothing. I’ll do more damage than that once I get to my babies.”

Drake inclined his head. “What do you have against him? Who cares what his skin looks like?”

“To tell you the truth, his color don’t bother me as much as it used to. I just think he’s got a twisted sense of humor is all.”

“I’ve never heard him tell a joke,” said Drake, looking confused.

“That’s just it. Something ain’t right about a man who can’t laugh, especially around all this fun,” said Raker. He slapped the boy around. “Now quit squawking and let’s get going before Jonrell has us on latrine duty.”

* * *

Jonrell stood between the two massive trebuchets that were positioned between the inner and outer walls of the castle. He watched Drake lead Raker down a set of stairs and hurry over to where he waited. “Took you long enough.”

“You can blame the boy for that. Kid will just talk your ear off rather than get to a point,” said Raker.

Drake shot the old hand a look but said nothing.

Jonrell grinned.
Aye, I know the truth lad.
“Well, let’s quit wasting time. They took decent losses on that last assault and I want to add to their misery while they’re already hurting.”

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me use the old girls sooner. They’re nearly done building their towers,” said Raker.

“That’s the point. I’d rather destroy the towers now after all the time and effort Tomalt has wasted on them. Besides, if you’re right about the range of these they’ll have to push camp further back and save what supplies they can, all under a hail of stones.”

Raker spat. “Right you are.” Raker looked up to the gatehouse. “Who’s calling my distance?”

“Yanasi is calling distance for both of you. So don’t get her riled up. From up there she just may put an arrow between your legs.”

Raker muttered a curse then reached over and knocked the oversized helm from Drake’s head, mussing his hair. “C’mon, boy, let’s see what you got. I got five pieces of gold says I can bring down more than you.”

Drake had been looking sour until he heard the challenge. He flashed a smiled. “You’re on, old timer.” He quickly ran off.

“Old timer? That little…” said Raker.

Jonrell grabbed him by the shoulder. “Later. Let’s give Tomalt something to think about.”

* * *

Sergeant Lanard sat at a table in the mess hall with several other young officers. His body ached and his eyes had trouble focusing. The exhaustion was so intense he had to talk himself into taking every bite of stew and crusted bread. He longed for a place to rest his head.

I gotta get something down first.

“Craziest thing I ever saw,” said the man next to him. Sergeant Moren shook his head in disbelief.

The other officers at the table looked up with heavy eyes, but cast them right back down at their bowls, paying Moren little mind. They were all feeling worse for the wear after the last few days of fighting, and no one wanted to hear another of Moren’s wild embellishments.

“What are you yapping about this time, Moren?” asked Lanard, immediately regretting his mistake.
Now, I’ll never eat in peace.

Moren leaned in close and whispered. “I’m talking about Kaz. He ain’t human.”

Another officer clicked his tongue. “Of course he isn’t. You’ve seen the way he looks.”

Moren shook his head. “That’s not what I’m talking about, Brock. I’m talking about the way he fights.”

“Yeah yeah, we’ve all seen him in the practice yard showing off,” said Lanard, wanting to get back to his meal.

Moren shook his head again. “No. This is different. You weren’t out running sorties with him. I’m telling you it was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen, watching that man fight. I nearly got my own head lopped off by not paying attention,” he said pointing to a clipped ear. He started laughing. “You should have seen Tomalt’s men. They were actually running away from him. Not us, but him. Craziest thing I ever saw.”

“Don’t tell me you’re another one with some kind of a crush on the man,” said Brock. “You said yourself, he ain’t human.”

Moren ignored the jibe and took a bite of stew. He then jabbed the spoon at each man at the table. “I’m telling you, boys, I don’t care what he is or where he’s from. I’d follow that man in battle against the One Below himself after what I’ve seen.”

“Aw c’mon,” said Lanard, having enough of the conversation he had encouraged. “Just the other day, you and Railen were going on and on about how you couldn’t wait to see Glacar take Kaz down.”

Moren chuckled. “Not anymore. And Railen’s singing Kaz’s praise to anyone who will listen in the infirmary. More than I am, for sure. And who can blame him? Kaz carried the man almost three hundred yards over one shoulder after Railen took an arrow in the side. Kaz was fighting Tomalt’s men with one arm the whole way back to the castle.” He paused, losing himself in the memory. “Anyway, before I came here, I checked in on Railen and that brown-skinned fellow, Wiqua. He said that if it weren’t for Kaz our fellow sergeant would be dead.”

Brock waved a hand. “Bah, so I’m supposed to jump down and worship the devil just because you two are impressed with his skill.”

Moren laughed. “Where have you been? Under a rock?”

“No, I was working the trebuchets this afternoon with that crazy one from the Hell Patrol. Raker.”

“Then you’ll see soon enough. Me and Railen aren’t the only ones. I’m telling you, Kaz is for real, and the rest of that crew is alright in my eyes too.”

Lanard pushed himself away from the table. “I’ve had enough of this.”

He handed off his food to Moren who eagerly snatched it away. After a hard day, the last thing he wanted to do was hear more about the Hell Patrol and their band of misfits. Yet as he strode through the mess hall, he heard snippets of conversations all relaying stories about the various members of the group. Some were about that fine red-headed woman with the fiery temper, others about that maniac, Glacar, or the giant, Crusher. And the list of names grew with each table he passed.

One name kept popping up over all others. Kaz. Lanard wondered if everyone in the whole hall had either been saved by the black devil or watched him save someone else.

Lanard shook his head.
No one is that good.

* * *

If Tomalt had been confident in victory, Jonrell was sure that after the hard lesson Raker and Drake gave him, the duke had to be second guessing himself. The trebuchets had pounded his camp, reaching spots well beyond what most would assume possible from standard siege equipment. Jonrell had joined Yanasi on top of the gatehouse to watch the competition between the two engineers. When he had finally called a ceasefire, Jonrell could hardly determine which of the two eccentric members had earned the five pieces of gold.

The good news was that their efforts had set Tomalt back days, perhaps longer. Eight large siege towers had been completely destroyed. Supply wagons and tents were also turned into rags and splinters. The bad news was that Tomalt had lost few men during the bombardment.

Apparently his men are fast runners.

“Things have been too quiet. He hasn’t attempted to attack even once since we used the trebuchets.”

Jonrell turned, startled. “Lord Caliva. You surprised me.” He turned back over the field, gazing upon the smattering of white tents. In front, stood newly erected siege equipment, almost twice as many as before. “Yes, but he’s been busy in other ways.”

“Yes, I believe all we accomplished was to stir the hornet’s nest. Before, all he dared to do was probe and test our defenses.”

Jonrell nodded. “Tomalt is a methodical man.”

“But even a methodical man will run out of patience. I believe with his next assault, whenever that may be, he will come at us with everything he has.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Well, let us hope the queen was successful with her efforts to win over Jeldor’s support,” said Caliva, leaning over the merlon next to Jonrell. “Even with the losses Tomalt’s taken so far, he outnumbers us five to one.”

Jonrell gave Caliva a sharp look, gauging the distance of those within earshot.

Caliva laughed. “Don’t worry commander. The men figured out long ago that the queen is not ill and residing in the tower. They know her servant is standing in her place.”

Jonrell sighed. “When?”

“I think they suspected some time ago, but when you met Tomalt for parlay without Her Majesty, they felt confident you were hiding something.”

Jonrell sighed again. “As did Tomalt. Another reason I expect him not to dally any longer with his next assault.”

Caliva grunted. “Then again let us hope that your sister was successful.”

* * *

Jonrell watched the city burn from the top of Cathyrium’s large keep. Tomalt had begun to set fire to the outskirts of the town yesterday, and before long flames engulfed everything outside of the castle’s walls. A day and a night later the fires continued, whipping brown smoke into the air. Flames danced recklessly between the shattered ruins. The city’s cathedral, no longer recognizable in its blackened state, fell in on itself with a loud crash. Ash soared into the air like a flock of angry crows.

Why did it have to come to this?

Jonrell had evacuated most of Cathyrium’s inhabitants to surrounding towns long ago. He ushered those who stayed inside the city’s walls days before Tomalt’s arrival. They first used the city’s alleys and abandoned buildings to stage ambushes and sorties to harass enemy troops. Glacar, Crusher, and Kaz had each led men against Tomalt’s advances where it was said the Duke had taken heavy losses.