Trial and Glory (25 page)

Tobin spun and scanned the clearing for danger before stepping out of the foliage. He strode to the door of the hut, hand resting on a dagger at his side. He raised an arm to knock, but the door swung open before his hand reached it.

A man of medium build stood in the entranceway, craning his head to meet Tobin’s eye. He did not look as old as Belin. Other than a graying beard and wrinkled scalp, the hard lines of the man’s shoulders and arms reminded Tobin of his father.

“Adosh?”

“Yes.” The man half-bowed. “Teznak said to expect you.” He gestured to a felled tree at the opposite end of the clearing. “Let’s talk there. I’ve been inside long enough today.”

They took a seat at opposite ends of the log while studying each other. Belin had been friendly. Adosh looked uncomfortable while glaring at Tobin.

“Do you know why I’m here?” asked Tobin.

“I have an idea. Teznak showed me his list of names. They were all people who worked closely with your family when you and Kaz were young boys.”

Tobin nodded. “I talked to Belin. He told me a great deal about my mother, but the questions I want answers to most he could not help me with. He said only you might be able to help.” He blew out a breath slowly. “I want to know how my mother died.”

“So you still don’t remember anything?”

“No.”

“Have you ever considered that perhaps that’s for the best?”

“I need to know.”

Adosh grunted. “Very well. I’ll tell you the truth as I know it.” He shifted in his seat. “You were five and Kaz six. Surprisingly, you two were playing well that day, chasing each other around your father’s home, taking turns hiding. I was helping your mother in the kitchen.” He paused. “After some time, we heard the familiar sounds of you fighting. Your mother left the kitchen to check on you. A few moments later, I heard your mother raising her voice, first at you, and then at your brother. I decided to check on the situation since your mother rarely yelled at either of you.”

Adosh blew out a sigh. “I arrived just as a large clay pot came off a high shelf you were perched on. It crashed onto your mother’s head. She fell.” He rubbed an open hand at his face. “She never saw it coming because she had her back to you.”

The familiar image of Tobin’s mother lying on the floor came to mind. His chest tightened. “What happened next?” Tobin asked, his voice a whisper.

“I ran over to confirm what I expected. The clay jar had been full. The weight of it broke her neck. I told you and your brother that she was dead. Kaz jumped up in a rage and swore that you had pushed the jar off the shelf on purpose. He tried to climb the shelving to get to you.” He sighed. “Before that moment, your brother had never been the one to start a fight.”

“What did I do?” croaked Tobin.

“You just sat on the ledge staring at your mother’s body. I had to pull Kaz away before he got to you. I tried to call you down, but you wouldn’t budge. It was as if you couldn’t hear or see anything. By that point, other servants had heard the screaming and crying. Belin was the first to arrive. He managed to get you down while I held onto Kaz. Others ran to get your father.”

“What did he say?”

“Bazraki was a mess. Your mother was the most important thing in his life. He wanted someone to pay for her death, but since his only option was to punish one of his sons, he was at a loss. Your brother swore you killed your mother out of jealousy for favoring him. Yet, any time someone spoke of her death, you froze up. I came in too late to say if what happened was an accident.” He sighed. “Still, your father dismissed all of the servants of his household for not protecting his wife.” He shrugged as if trying to downplay the story. Tobin could see the memories bothered him. “Later I heard Bazraki took his anger out on both of you since he couldn’t pick one to focus on.”

“Both of us? Belin told me that Father was hard on Kaz when we were boys, but after my mother died, I never saw Father do anything but praise him.”

Adosh shrugged. “In public, perhaps. But what happened in private?”

Tobin stared at the ground in silence, trying to process the information.

Adosh cleared his throat. “Does that answer your questions?”

“Not as I hoped. It seems that only Kaz and I would know the full story. He’s dead and I recall very little from that part of my life.”

“So then I was no help.” Adosh’s eyes drifted to the weapons Tobin carried.

“You believe I killed her on purpose, don’t you?”

“I told you that I came in late and . . .”

“Do you
think
I could have done it?” asked Tobin, raising his voice.

“Anything is possible.”

“I’m not looking for what you think is possible.” Tobin narrowed his eyes. “I want your opinion.”

“Yes.” Adosh whispered.

Tobin clenched his fists. “Why?”

Adosh shook his head. “You were such an awful child. Your father made me keep secrets from your mother about the horrible things I saw you do because he knew it would break her heart.” His voice grew disgusted. “Torturing animals. Being cruel to your brother. One time you burned him purposefully with a hot iron. It was just who you were!” he snapped, standing up.

The old man looked defiant.

“Who I was?” Tobin rose, chuckling in a voice that lacked all humor. “What about now?” Tobin’s hand twisted the hilt of the dagger at his belt.

Adosh eyed the weapon carefully and frowned. He looked up. “I occasionally hear stories. But, I live so far away from Juanoq that any news I get has been passed down too often for me to believe much of it. I don’t know who you are now.”

Tobin squeezed the dagger hard. He began to slowly slide it free, but caught himself.
No.
He slid the blade back and let his hand drop. “No. You don’t.”

He left the clearing. Without looking back, he pushed aside a low hanging branch, and disappeared into the jungle.

Do I?

* * *

Jober dug his fingers into the arms of his chair as Lucia left the room. Despite his many pleas, Lucia still refused to listen to him. She had been trying to contact Tobin for days.

For reasons only Tobin knew, her requests had been denied.

Hielle turned away from the door, scowling in disapproval. “I wish you would talk to me about why you’re so against Lucia telling Tobin.”

“I have.”

“No. You’re holding back. There’s something else besides this childhood belief of Kaz that Tobin killed their mother. I can tell.”

Jober said nothing.

“He’s the child’s father. You can’t stop her from seeing him.” She stood and left Jober alone in the room.

She’s right. Lucia won’t ever give up.

“Eventually my belly will be so big he’ll have to see me. If nothing else, out of curiosity,” she had said.

I let Kaz down by not saving him. I won’t do it again by letting the brother he hated have his wife.

He walked over to his children’s room. Peeking inside, he watched them sleep. Jober closed the door and moved to his room. He stopped before touching the door handle.

Hielle won’t understand. There’s only one way to help Lucia and ensure no harm comes to my family.

Jober left his quarters.

* * *

Tobin entered the palace grounds, limbs heavy with fatigue. He had barely rested on his way home. When he had, sleep failed him. He could not shake the details of his mother’s death. Thinking of the atrocities he had committed in his life, he wondered if he could have done something as awful as kill his own mother.

He considered the good he had tried to do as a Kifzo despite ridicule from others. He thought of his recent work in the Old District.

How can I do something so evil, yet still desire to do good?

He balled his hands into fists.

My mind truly is a mess.

Palace guards on the night shift saluted Tobin as he walked through the gardens and into the palace. As he made his way toward his personal quarters, he began to loosen his armor. He froze in the hallway.

I cannot forget my past. The dreams I have prove that. But in the days before leaving Juanoq to seek Adosh, I learned that I can ignore it. Belin told me how great a woman my mother was. Why not remember her as that and nothing more? I might have been an awful child, but Kaz was no better as a teenager or an adult. We both made our mistakes.

I need to avoid making more.

Tobin continued down the hall, walking lighter on his heels.

* * *

Jober held his breath as the door to Tobin’s bedroom opened. He had snuck in hours before, hiding behind a curtain near a closed window. Though it had been years since Jober’s training as a Kifzo, he still remembered the lessons of stealth Cef had taught him.

He peaked through a slit in the curtain as Tobin entered carrying a bag he dropped near a table, then closed the door.

Jober cursed inwardly. He hadn’t expected to see Tobin armed and armored.

Patience.

He relaxed as Tobin stripped away weapons, light mail, and boiled leather. The warleader moved in a daze, mind seemingly elsewhere. He presented his back to Jober while reaching for a bowl of nuts. A crunch followed. Jober wanted to act then, but knew better.

The distance is still too great.

Jober forced himself to take slow, shallow breaths so he would not draw attention. Tobin moved over to a nearby desk where several stacks of documents sat. Tobin made a face at one or two, mumbled to himself, and then set them aside. After much deliberation, he grabbed one to read. A smile took shape.

Probably some news on the next village he plans to slaughter.

Tobin placed the letter back on his desk and walked to the other side of the window from where Jober waited. A pitcher of water rested on top of a table near a large basin. Tobin finished undressing, poured some of the water into the basin, and began to wash himself.

Jober’s hand moved to the dagger at his waist. He unsheathed the blade.

It’s now or never.

Using his free hand to throw aside the curtain, Jober lunged toward his target. Water ran down Tobin’s face as he turned toward the movement. Jober gazed into those eyes and lunged. He focused all the hate he held for Tobin into that thrust.

The blade bit into flesh.

Tobin had shifted his body so that the dagger missed his chest and tore into his upper arm. He yelled in pain, flinging the bowl of water up, its contents soaking Jober. Slick with water, he lost his grip on Tobin. Jober ripped his dagger free.

Jober took two steps backward to clear his vision of the cool water. Tobin held a piece of loose flesh against his injured arm—blood running through his fingers.

Jober crouched while Tobin shifted to the left. He moved to cut him off, realizing Tobin’s weapons rested on a table only a few steps away.

Tobin managed to speak in a controlled voice. “Why are you doing this?”

“You know why. You killed Kaz.”

“Nachun killed Kaz. Not me.”

Jober snorted. “Like you never wanted to do so yourself. You allowed Nachun to get away with it. That makes you just as guilty.”

“I’m no more guilty than you. You’ve said nothing all this time.”

“Nachun threatened my family,” snapped Jober.

“So what changed for you to risk their lives now? You know what I’m capable of.”

“I do. But it doesn’t matter. You won’t live long enough to harm them.”

And maybe that will atone for my lies to Lucia and Hielle.

Jober adjusted the grip of his blade as he watched Tobin’s muscles coil.

He’s ready to make his move.

The door burst open. Jober glanced over as guards rushed in. Tobin leaped toward his weapons. Jober's chest tightened in panic.

No. I can’t fail.

He ignored the guards entering the room and followed after Tobin. The warleader managed to grab one of his throwing axes. With it, he caught the blade of Jober’s dagger as it descended. Jober’s other hand shot out, punching the bloody flesh of Tobin’s injured arm. Tobin howled.

Jober twisted his blade free and sliced downward. Tobin managed to avoid the worst of the attack as the blade raked across his chest. Tobin’s head came forward, crunching into the bridge of Jober’s nose.

Flashes of color danced before Jober’s eyes. Hands latched onto his limbs, dragging him to the ground.

Not again. I can’t have failed again.

He blinked and the pain subsided. Tobin looked down on him while holding his wounded arm.

“Do you want to kill him now, Warleader?” asked one of the guards.

“No.”

“What about his family?” asked the other. “Should we grab them as well?”

Tobin did not answer immediately. He simply stared at Jober, nostrils flaring with each breath.

Hielle, I doomed you and the children. What was I thinking?

Jober shuddered as he thought about what Tobin would do to his family.

“No,” said Tobin.

Jober’s eyes widened.

“What do we do with him?” asked the first guard again.

“Put him in the dungeons. I’ll see to him shortly.”

Tobin turned away as the guards yanked Jober to his feet.

* * *

Jober’s head dropped to his chest. He jerked awake. Tobin stood on the other side of the cell door. He rubbed his eyes while rising to his feet. He hadn’t heard him arrive.

If not for the fresh bandage on Tobin’s arm or the beads of sweat on his forehead, Jober might have thought the motionless warleader a dream.

Jober stepped into the torchlight. “Here to kill me?”

“With so much to lose, you seem a man eager to die.”

“Now that Nachun is gone, the only death I’m eager to see is yours.”

“I remember now. You and Kaz were close as boys. It’s guilt. You can’t shake the burden of knowing you betrayed him.”

Jober hung his head in shame.

“Have you told anyone what happened? Your wife?”

“No.”

“Lucia?”

“No,” whispered Jober.
Though I’ve wanted to every day.
“I haven’t told anyone.”