Wayward Soldiers (33 page)

“Good. Since you are up on your other duties, then you have plenty enough time to help here like everyone else.”

The old woman just grunted and grumbled again, flicking one last spade of dirt before returning to her task. Jonrell knew digging a third trench was over-doing it, but he wasn’t taking any chances as he expected Cassus back some time yesterday. Besides, it always helps to keep a soldier busy.

Upon arrival, he sent Cassus and a small group of men into the city. They were to secure passage across the ocean based on what Melchizan’s goods fetched on the open market. Jonrell sent Krytien with the group for added protection, but he was also glad to have him out of his hair. The old mage had been acting strange since finding out Cadonia’s king had died, and stranger still since the skirmish in the valley. Krytien had said that he had never seen anyone heal with greater ease or knowledge as Wiqua had.

Impressed over a bunch of horses.
He shook his head.

Hag remained quiet far longer than Jonrell would have thought possible before she started back up again. This time she directed her wrath elsewhere, taking her aggression out on the Byzernian women who cooked. She didn’t seem to care that most of them couldn’t understand a word she said. It only enticed her further. Before long, she began flinging dirt into the path of women as they carried firewood for the cook fires. Eventually, even those peaceful women showed irritation and sent icy stares in Hag’s direction.

She hasn’t lost that magic touch.
Jonrell grinned.

A shout from Yanasi, signaling that Cassus and the others were returning, put an end to the strife. It’s about time. Jonrell jumped at the chance to send Hag to care for their animals and climbed out of the trench. He told Yanasi to have Cassus and Krytien join him in the command tent.

* * *

Glacar had been cursing under his breath for almost an hour. Kroke knew that was a record somewhere. He sure couldn’t imagine spending that much time talking, especially repeating the same four or five words. After an hour of hearing Glacar go on and on, he reckoned it was about time he at least asked what bothered him.

Kroke threw his spade into the dirt and pulled out a dirk. He began picking at his nails, noticing a few specks of grime that had accumulated. “You gonna keep that up the whole day, Glacar?”

The wild man from Thurum turned around, sweat soaked his hair and beard. He spat, most of it dribbling down into the thick tangled mess on his chin. “What are you jawing about?”

“You ain’t shut up since we moved to this part of camp. What’s got you all worked up?”

“Not what. Who.”

“Huh?”

“Jonrell’s lost it, Kroke. Sticking our necks out for these brown devils ain’t what the Hell Patrol’s about. And yet, we’ve been dragging them around for weeks. On top of that we’re going to buy them passage home. That’s money that could be in our pocket.”

“You ain’t seemed to mind them Byzernians when they were Melchizan’s. I believe you visited a few of their women pretty regularly?”

“Yeah, that’s about all they’re good for, too. But now, they act like they’re suddenly too good for that.”

“And there it is,” said Kroke, clicking his tongue. “Since they ain’t slaves any longer, they won’t let you have your fun anymore.”

Glacar spat. “Ain’t no woman gonna tell me what I can or can’t do. Especially not any of them brown-skinned dogs.”

“But Jonrell did, didn’t he?”

“You know he’s always been too soft. That background of his and his high and mighty standards.”

“Ain’t nothing soft about showing some respect to women.”

“That’s funny coming from a killer like you.”

Kroke shrugged.“Killing and raping ain’t really the same thing.”

Glacar laughed. “Sure they are. They both get your heart racing and when I’m done, I’m the only one who’s happy.”

Glacar went back to shoveling. Kroke sheathed the blade and followed suit.
And that’s why you ain’t the one leading us.

* * *

Jonrell had just enough time to splash some cool water on his face and neck, washing off the day’s grime, when the two men strolled into his tent, looking ragged. Jonrell took a sip of tea and gestured for them to have a seat. “I was beginning to grow worried.”

“No doubt,” said Krytien easing into a chair. “You’ve got a stronger camp here than I’ve seen in some time.”

Jonrell shrugged. “Better safe than sorry. Was there any trouble? I expected you a day ago.”

“Some, but nothing major. We scared off a few men looking to rob us as we left the city. Cassus thought it best to take a different route back. We covered our tracks in case they returned with more.”

“Good. Do we have ships secured?”

“Two. One for us and one for the Byzernians. The ships are owned by the same man. The price is reasonable and best of all he’ll organize the sale to pay for the ships after inspecting the goods we hauled with us.”

Jonrell looked over at Cassus who had yet to sit down. “What kind of shape are the ships in?”

Krytien answered though Jonrell had directed the question at Cassus. “Although they’re traders, both ships are strong and in fair enough shape.” The old mage glanced nervously about. “Given that we may have to improvise in open water if pirates attack, we spoke with the captains as well. Both are well-seasoned men.”

“Can we trust them?” asked Jonrell, as he watched Cassus pace the room.

The old mage gave a tense chuckle and fidgeted in his seat. “I learned a long time ago not to trust anyone, Jonrell. You know that.”

Cassus’s face held a far-away stare. The commander set his cup down. “Cassus, you haven’t said a word. What’s bugging you? Do we need to be wary about the captains?”

“The captains are fine.” He looked up and cleared his throat after a long pause. “I’ve decided to go on with the Byzernians.”

Jonrell felt like the chair was taken from under him. He looked to Krytien. “Is he serious?” Silence. Jonrell turned back to Cassus. “I don’t believe this.”

“They’ll need help,” said Cassus. “The ships we procured are going in opposite directions. You’ll be heading north while the other is entering a southern port near one of their islands. They won’t have any protection on their journey home.”

“Protection? You’re one man,” said Jonrell.

“One is better than none.”

“This is crazy. Do you have any idea how long it will take you to secure a ship from there back to Cadonia to meet up with us.”

“I’m not going to Cadonia.”

Jonrell’s mouth hung open.
I’ve lost my mind. That’s the only thing that could explain what I’m hearing. I’ve gone mad.

Cassus cut in. “Look, I know this is a surprise.”

“A surprise?! I’d call it more of a slap in the face. We’re going home. I need you with me.”

Cassus laughed, shaking his head. “You’ve never needed me. I was the one who needed you. And you made sure to look out for me. Now I have the chance to do the same thing for these people as well as others.”

“What do you mean others?”

“There are slaves all over Mytarcis, most are from the Byzernia Islands. I want to stay and help them.”

Jonrell looked up and mumbled to himself. “One Above, what have I done to deserve this?” He snorted. “Cassus, Hero of Slaves. What about your parents?”

“What about them? Don’t pretend that they ever cared for me. I doubt they even remember they had a son.”

“I can command you to stay,” said Jonrell, trying a different approach.

“Not if I quit.”

“I can command to have you restrained and loaded on the ship to Cadonia.”

Cassus smiled and stepped forward, placing a hand on Jonrell’s shoulder. “You can. But you won’t.”

Jonrell felt the fight leave him. He knew his friend well enough to know there was no changing his mind this time.

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Rise and Fall - Book One of the Blood and Tears Series
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