Walk Through Fire (3 page)

He can’t get to an opening fast enough,
thought Krytien as he watched Glacar counter every attempt Ronav made to regain the upper hand. In all the years that he and Ronav had known each other, Krytien never saw him bested in single combat.

Krytien held out hope that at any moment Ronav’s experience would win out as it so often had in recent years when the Commander’s speed began to dwindle. But deep down Krytien knew that experience only went so far in a fight against someone younger, faster, and perhaps even stronger. Ronav continued to stagger back, shield arm shaking under each assault.

Krytien let out a sigh and got to work.
Perhaps he won’t learn the truth.

* * *

“I think Ronav is losing,” said Cassus in disbelief.

“No. You’re mistaken,” said Jonrell. He watched Glacar howl as he forced Ronav backward step by step.

“Maybe, he’s baiting him,” suggested Cassus. “We’ve seen him do it before.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” said Jonrell, even though he really wasn’t. “That has to be it.”

However, when Ronav had baited someone in the past, he had never allowed himself to take the beating he received now. Blood seeped through gashes in his armor as bits of mail and plate fell away under the onslaught. To make matters worse, Ronav’s battered shield began to drop and his efforts to dodge the worst of each strike seemed less and less fluid than before. Ronav did not appear to be baiting Glacar at all.

Jonrell felt worn leather in his palm and realized that his hand had subconsciously drifted to the hilt of his sword. He worked the grip ever tighter between his fingers.
Find a way to end this, Ronav.

The commander’s foot slipped under loose gravel as Glacar’s ax struck his shield. Between the force of the attack and the unsure footing, Ronav clattered to the ground.

Jonrell pushed men aside while working his sword free. A hand reached out and grabbed his arm.

“What do you think you’re doing?” yelled Cassus over the roar of the crowd.

“He’s going to kill Ronav,” said Jonrell, wrenching his arm free.

“We’re not in Cadonia. You can’t just interrupt the fight.”

“Watch me!” shouted Jonrell, angered that Cassus had slowed him. He whipped back around just in time to see Glacar’s ax descending again. Ronav sat exposed, transfixed on the instrument of his impending death.

I’m too late

But his commander moved in a blur. Ronav rolled away from the attack and jumped to his feet. Glacar’s crazed eyes widened as his blade lodged in the ground. Ronav struck Glacar in the face with the pommel of his sword. A spray of blood followed the crunch of a broken nose as Glacar’s head rocked backward. Ronav swept the man’s legs out from under him and a moment later stood over the warrior, sword in one hand, ax in the other, both weapons hovering within inches of his opponent’s face.

Jonrell’s mouth hung open. The roaring crowd had fallen deathly quiet. No one could believe what had just happened.

“See, I told you he was baiting him,” said Cassus.

* * *

Ronav stood over Glacar and Krytien saw the commander do his best to hide his fatigue. The mage let out a sigh.
I hope it wasn’t too obvious. But who cares? Ronav is alive.

Krytien could not hear the conversation between the two warriors. After a few moments, Ronav sheathed his sword and helped Glacar to his feet. He gave the maniac back his ax and pointed him in the direction of the Hell Patrol’s camp.

One Above, Ronav. You actually went through with it? Even after all of that you still let that animal join us.

Once Glacar left and the crowd dispersed, Krytien saw just how weary Ronav appeared. His chest heaved with each breath, sweat poured from his face, and blood oozed from open wounds. Yet Ronav would not allow himself to relax. He walked over to Krytien with his usual air of confidence.

Letting the last of the befuddled onlookers shuffle by, Krytien backed into the shade and leaned against a nearby post. He noticed, all at once, how old Ronav looked. Without his helm, the sweat soaked hair of his commander seemed grayer than before. Blood from a cut on his forehead seeped into the valleys of the wrinkles surrounding his tired eyes.

Ronav threw his helm down and flung his shield to the side. He set only his sword down with care. Krytien handed him a skin of water and saw Ronav wince as he reached for it. The commander drank deeply and then poured the rest of the liquid over his head. The water ran down his neck and under his mail.

Krytien did his best not to fidget, but the mage could not keep himself from nervously running his fingers through his long gray hair. He had never seen Ronav like this after a fight, sullen and mouthing silent curses. Even with new injuries, it was common to see Ronav laughing and sharing a joke.

“Who gave you the right?” asked Ronav, his voice low and even.

Krytien cocked his head. “What do you mean? I’m not sure I. . . .”

“Stop. We’ve known each other for decades. You had no right to interfere.”

“So I should have let you die?”

“If that was the outcome, then so be it. This victory was hollow. I cheated.”

Krytien offered a smile, trying to lighten Ronav’s dark mood. “Technically, I cheated, not you.”

“You’re missing the point. . . .”

Krytien’s smile faded, tired of dancing around the subject. “No, you are, Ronav. We make our living by outsmarting our opponents in any way possible.”

“That’s different.” Ronav hissed. “You know that I don’t believe in using sorcery in something like this. This was one man against another. It’s not. . . .”

“It’s not honorable,” said Krytien, spitting the word out like a curse. “You and your honor can go to the One Below for all I care. You really are an idiot if you think the Hell Patrol would be better off with you dead and Glacar alive. No direction, no leadership, but Ronav would have his honor.”

Silence stretched.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” said Ronav finally.

“I know,” said Krytien, his voice calm.

Another long silence. “Five years ago it wouldn’t have been that close. I would have beaten him.”

“We can’t roll back time. Perhaps you were still feeling the effects of last night.”

“No. You tried to tell me this morning.” He grunted. “He is better than me.”

Krytien handed Ronav another skin of water. He tried to move the subject away from the past and into the Hell Patrol’s future. “So, you actually let him join us?”

“We can always use a fighter.”

“If you can control him. That’s quite a gamble.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I can help him redirect his anger. Make sure he saves it for the battlefield. If I recall, I wasn’t too different at that age.”

Krytien shook his head. “If you say so. But you still had good in you, Ronav. I see none of that in Glacar.”

Ronav laughed. “It’ll work out.”

The mage saw his friend trying to act like his old self. But the actions were forced and the mannerisms contrived.
Losing affected him more than I thought it would. But why wouldn’t it?
A man like Ronav who prides himself in being the best is going to struggle with knowing he is no longer the man he once was.

Krytien shook away his thoughts. “A messenger came by just before the fight started. Effren wants to see you.”

“He better not want to drink again.”

Krytien smiled. “It seems he wants to discuss the terms for our dismissal now that our contract has been fulfilled.”

Ronav nodded. “Better go see him then.”

“You don’t want me to see what I can do for your injuries first?”

Ronav shook his head, casting Krytien a sidelong glance. “No, I’ll let Hag care for the worst now and tend to the rest later. I’ve had enough sorcery in me for one day. I think I want to feel these bruises for a little while.”

* * *

“He let Glacar join us,” said Cassus, a sense of wonder in his voice. “I didn’t expect that to happen.”

“I’m sure he has his reasons.” Jonrell replied as they walked back to camp.

Yanasi came up beside him and tugged at his arm. She spoke in a soft voice. “Did you want Ronav to win?”

Jonrell glanced down and smiled. “Of course I did.” Even after a few meals, Yanasi had already started to look better. And if nothing else, she was clean.
Still need to do something about that wild hair though.

“Oh. I thought you’d be happier then.” She looked confused.

Cassus laughed.

Jonrell gave him a scowl. “I am happy he won. It’s just that something didn’t seem right.”

“Even when something goes the way you want it to, you find cause to complain,” said Cassus.

It was the look on Ronav’s face. It’s like what he did surprised even himself.

Jonrell noticed Yanasi nervously looking behind her. “What’s wrong?”

“That man. Cord. He’s watching us,” she whispered, grabbing Jonrell’s hand.

Jonrell glanced behind him and met Cord’s eyes. The soldier scowled, but had the sense to walk away.

“Looks like he’s not going to let your little meeting go,” said Cassus.

Jonrell shrugged. He nodded to his right where Ahned bore holes into Ronav’s back as he talked with Krytien. “He won’t be the only one. Ahned lost a lot of money today.”

Cassus grinned. “Well, he is the idiot who bet against Ronav.”

Chapter 3

A slur of curses welcomed Krytien as he entered Ronav’s tent. The commander sat bare-chested on his cot, while Hag tended to the last of his wounds.

“Shut your mouth, you big baby. Probably wouldn’t hurt as much if you would’ve let me take care of all these at once,” said Hag, pulling on a stitch.

Krytien noticed little compassion in how she jammed the needle in Ronav’s arm over and over.

“One Above, woman, just get on with it,” said Ronav with a grimace. “Your stitching is bad enough. I don’t need to hear your mouth as well.”

Hag gave a final tug, wrenching Ronav’s arm back as she did so. Ronav grunted and gripped his leg hard. “You’ll listen to what I have to say whether you like it or not. Either that or maybe I should let Raker stitch you up next time. That’ll give you an idea of what life would be like without me.”

Ronav shook his head. “Aren’t you done, yet?”

“Aye, I’m finished,” she said, putting her things away. “Make sure you keep those bandages clean.” She gathered up her things and cast Krytien a glare. The two exchanged nods.

“Thanks,” said Ronav as Hag reached the tent flap.

The old woman left with a grunt.

Ronav shook his head. “Blasted woman is about as kind as a tiger.”

Krytien chuckled.

Ronav clutched his side as he stood. He gingerly slipped on a thin shirt and leather jerkin. He sat in a nearby chair with a sigh.

Krytien watched thoughtfully as he moved. The commander’s hair may have started to gray in recent years, but Ronav’s swagger had always remained.

Until now.
To Krytien, the fight with Glacar had broken a piece of what made Ronav the man he was.

Ronav took a drink. “How are the men?”

“Good. Waiting on orders. What did Effren say?”

“We leave tomorrow. The entire army will accompany him back to Asantia where he’ll be proclaimed rightful ruler of his newly conquered land.” Ronav waved his hand about in a mocking manner.

“So, our contract
is
over?”

Ronav nodded. “Aye.”

“So when do we get paid?”

“Straight to the heart of it.” He laughed. “Effren doesn’t have the funds to pay us now. So we’ll march with him to Asantia.”

Krytien raised an eyebrow. “Is that wise? What if he tries to renege on our deal?”

“We really don’t have a choice. He doesn’t have the money with him.” Ronav paused. “We’ve had to worry about others in the past trying to double cross us, but Effren doesn’t strike me as the sort. Besides, he’s tired of the fighting. He wants to sit back and strengthen his lands and alliances rather than shed more blood.”

“A smart man.”

“I told him as much. We could use a break ourselves and we need to pass through Asantia to get to port anyway. I thought it made sense for us to return to Slum Isle for a while. The men could use some time for fun.” Ronav paused, a faraway look in his eyes. “I told Effren I might even get some land for myself somewhere and retire.”

“Retire? You’re not serious.”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not. Effren thought it was funny though. He said it wasn’t in me to retire.”

One Above, I’ve never heard him talk like this before. He’d probably kill himself in a year’s time from boredom.
“This isn’t about Glacar, is it?”

“He did best me.”

“And?”

Ronav shrugged. “And, I don’t know. Just thinking is all. Maybe it’s a sign that my time is up.”

Silence stretched.

“Who would lead us then?”

Ronav cocked an eyebrow at the mage.

Krytien held up his hands. “You know I’m not. . . .”

Ronav chuckled and Krytien saw a bit of his friend’s old self. “Don’t worry, I was only joking. Actually, I was thinking about Jonrell.”

“Really?”

“Why not? I thought you got along well. You even said he was one of the best men we have.”

“He is, and we do get along well. He’s probably one of the few people I know who can think past tomorrow.” Krytien started pacing. “I’ve got nothing against him personally, but he’s twenty.”

“So? He’s proven to be my best captain these past two years. He’s sharp and can think on his feet. The men all love him. I thought it was going to be a mistake bringing him on once you figured out who he was, but he’s proved me wrong.” Ronav snorted. “I mean whoever heard of someone with his background becoming a mercenary?”

“You know he looks up to you. Practically worships the ground you walk on.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“You wouldn’t,” said Krytien. He stopped pacing. “I guess he does have some potential. It’s just…I don’t know. It kind of feels like he’s missing something.”

“What?”

“That edge. Seems like he has too much of a soft spot to lead this outfit. For instance, he took in that little girl, Yanasi. Sure, he’s everyone’s friend now, but can he be rotten when it’s called for?”