Warleader
A Blood and Tears Short Story
By Joshua P. Simon
Smashwords Edition
As a young warrior in the elite Kifzo army of his father’s tribe, Tobin lives a life consumed by the relentless training demands of his uncle. Despite his best intentions and hard work, he struggles to cope with his father's indifference toward him and his brother's outright hatred.
A chance opportunity may change all of that. Tobin’s father gives him, his brother and three other young Kifzo each a small squad to lead on a key mission. The squad leader who succeeds will be named Warleader and will command the entire tribe’s army. Tobin sees this as his best chance to step out of the shadow of his brother and earn the respect and recognition he’s always desired.
Copyright 2011 by Joshua P. Simon
These stories are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Joshua P. Simon.
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Visit the author at http://www.joshuapsimon.blogspot.com
Contact joshuapsimon.author@gmail.com with any comments.
Cover Design by Brooke White with Sprout Studios (Houston, TX) brooke@sproutstudio.us
Editing by Joshua Essoe http://www.joshuaessoe.com
Table of Contents
Warleader- A Blood and Tears Short Story by Joshua P. Simon
Excerpt of Rise and Fall: Book One of the Blood and Tears Trilogy
List of Future Works in the Blood and Tears World
Dedication
To Leah
Warleader - A Blood and Tears Short Story
A wad of spit struck Tobin’s cheek as he stumbled backward. The back of his free hand came up and wiped away the insult. An echo of jeers sounded around the practice circle. One of the loudest voices came from the big Kifzo warrior named Durahn. “It looks like he may cry this time.”
Tobin clenched his jaw and worked the grip of the practice sword with his hand. He had just begun to gain an advantage against his brother, when Kaz caught him off guard and spat at him. Both he and Kaz stepped back to compose themselves but their eyes never left the other’s face. It would be like him to cheat, Tobin thought.
Tobin watched sweat roll down the black skin of Kaz’s face. His brother sneered across at him as the two circled. “Are you going to cry, brother?” Kaz used the word “brother” as a curse. Tobin ignored the question. He focused on the subtle movements of his brother as he tried to determine where Kaz’s next attack might come from.
“Like you’re any better, Kaz? I would have ended this long ago,” said Durahn, turning his taunts toward Kaz. The brash fifteen year old tried to get the other young Kifzo warriors to join him in ridiculing Kaz just as they had all been heckling Tobin. However, most of the warriors respected Kaz or at least feared him enough not to add their voices to Durahn’s.
Only in the last month had Tobin been able to gain the support of a few of his fellow Kifzo. His rapid improvement with the sword, followed by proving himself a capable squad leader, helped his cause. Tobin’s skills had improved so much that sparring sessions with Kaz were no longer the lopsided matches that they once were.
In a blur, Kaz came at him, moving to his left just as Tobin knew he would. But the attack had been feigned and Kaz pivoted and brought his practice sword around at the last moment to strike at the right side of Tobin’s head. Tobin hadn’t expected the move, but he quickly shifted and met his brother’s blade with his own. The two wooden weapons clacked off each other. A flurry of slashes and thrusts followed. Shuffling backward and kicking up dirt with each step, Tobin swore to himself for not being more ready for Kaz’s deception. Kaz pressed the attack while Tobin fought to keep his balance. Tobin saw Kaz over-commit to his next strike and he quickly ducked under it. Tobin came up leading with the top of his head, slamming it under Kaz’s chin. Kaz reeled back and Tobin saw the look of surprise in his brother’s eyes.
As the two separated briefly, Tobin heard his Uncle Cef’s voice call out. “Point to Tobin. The match is over.”
“The match is not over!” snapped Kaz, spitting blood. “We cannot end the match until one of us has reached five.” Shouts of agreement from the other young warriors followed.
Cef stomped to Kaz’s side and grabbed him by the arm to wrench him close. “I say when a match is over, not you. Your father has summoned me to discuss matters of the tribe. I was going to give the Kifzo a rest and cut off training early but it would seem that you all have too much energy remaining.” Cef released Kaz’s arm and looked out at the young Kifzo warriors. Most were smart enough to put their heads down before Cef’s piercing stare caught them. Tobin saw his uncle look out over the training yard and then down toward the shore on the outskirts of the village. “Ten laps around the training ground and then a mile swim in the ocean. Only then may you return to the barracks for dinner and rest.”
Kaz wisely held his tongue until their uncle left the yard. He shouldered past Tobin. “This isn’t over, brother.”
Tobin watched him go with a sigh. I didn’t expect it to be.
The other Kifzo began lining up for their run. Just as they were setting off, Tobin met the eyes of a few of his fellow warriors.
Is that respect? Several gave him a slight nod. At least something good came of this.
Tobin’s wandering thoughts about gaining the respect of the others were interrupted by Durahn and another warrior named Charq boasting about sneaking out to visit one of the village’s whores. Tobin glanced over his shoulder and saw many of the Kifzo hanging on their every word, even laughing when the two warriors talked about slapping the woman around afterward. Put off by such talk, Tobin scowled and faced forward. He saw Kaz frown in Durahn and Charq’s direction before distancing himself from the group. After hearing another cruel remark, Tobin picked up his own pace.
* * *
Tobin crouched near the side of an open window, hugging the wall as he listened to his father and uncle discuss the matters of their tribe.
While the other young Kifzo warriors slept in the barracks, Tobin snuck out once again in hopes the night air would clear his head. His walks would usually take him through the training ground or even around the outskirts of the city, but tonight he wandered into the heart of Juanoq, to his father’s home.
He inched closer to the window’s opening and peered around the frame.
“A villager reported that they saw him sneaking away earlier tonight. I had his home searched and found it empty,” said Tobin’s father, Bazraki.
“Why would he do this now?” asked Cef.
Bazraki grunted. “I cannot guess the man’s thoughts. He hasn’t been the same since his family died in that fire months ago.” There was a pause. “When he started to openly question my decisions in front of others, I suspected his loyalty was turning. I’ve been too busy with other matters to act sooner.”
“I can send some men from the army…” started Tobin’s uncle.
Bazraki cut him off. “No. As much as I hate to admit it, Suran had influence over some of our regular soldiers. I won’t risk them being lenient toward him. I intend to use the Kifzo. They are our elite forces and this is the perfect opportunity to determine who among them will be Warleader.”
Tobin’s eyes widened and his heart raced in excitement.
“They’re still too young. They aren’t ready,” said Cef.
“I have greater trust in their ability to succeed at this task than the regular warriors.”
“Now isn’t the time to decide who will be Warleader. We’re still years away from entering into any real battle. This is not what I had in mind for the Testing.”
“This is the perfect chance to gauge their worthiness on something of importance,” said Bazraki. “A Warleader must be determined now. The sooner the others grow accustomed to Kaz’s command, the better.”
“And what if Kaz does not win the Testing?” asked Cef.
Bazraki snorted and puffed his barrel chest out. “Why wouldn’t he?”
“There are several others who’ve excelled in training.”
“Durahn?” Bazraki asked as he brought his hand up to rub at his chin.
Cef nodded. “He’s one.”
“Kaz will best him. None of the other candidates are any real challenge.”
“Even Tobin? His squads have beaten Kaz’s several times this past month on the training ground and he’s rapidly improving each day.”
Tobin felt a rush of pride at the recognition. Such a compliment was a rare thing from his uncle.
Bazraki shrugged. “Kaz will defeat him. My son is meant to lead my army.”
“Is Tobin not also your son?” asked Cef.
There was a long pause as Tobin saw the two men stare at each other. “Enough of this back and forth,” snapped Bazraki.
Any joy Tobin felt from his uncle’s comment was washed away by the lack of acknowledgement from his father.
“The Testing will be tomorrow,” continued Bazraki. “See that it happens. And make sure one of the candidates is Nedan. He has no real chance of succeeding, but it will appease his father if we include him.”
Tobin pushed away from the wall and with shoulders hunched skulked off into the night.
As he passed several of his father’s patrolling guardsmen, he slipped away from their watchful eyes with ease. At the edge of the village, behind a half constructed building, he found a seat atop a pile of grey granite, still warm from the heat of the day. He looked around at the work still needed on the building and sighed.
As part of their physical training, the Kifzo were tasked with building much of the small city his father ruled over. Bazraki was an ambitious man. It was his desire that Juanoq would one day be the capital of not only the Blue Island Clan but also the greatest city in Hesh.
With the other island tribes constantly opposing Bazraki’s plans, Tobin knew his father’s patience would only last so long.
His uncle taught the Kifzo during training that their purpose would be to defend the Blue Island Clan. Though Tobin never shared his thoughts with anyone, he knew that his father would also have no qualms about attacking the other island tribes if it meant bringing the Blue Island Clan under one ruler. And to do that he needs a Warleader to lead his army.
Tobin’s dreams of becoming Warleader began at the age of five when his mother died. Training to be a Kifzo in his father’s elite army was the only life that he could remember. As usual, those brief thoughts of his mother caused him to reflect on his remaining family.
Tobin’s uncle was a hard man, but Cef would still give him occasional praise and recognition. Those small acts of kindness did much to counteract the constant ridicule and abuse Tobin received from Kaz. Tobin wished he knew why Kaz hated him, but at least he got some sort of reaction from his brother. His father, on the other hand, was completely indifferent to his second son. Bazraki neither showed signs of love or hate, and Tobin could never understand why.
He would not even recognize me as his son.
He looked out into the clear, starry night. It was quiet except for the occasional chirping of insects and the faint lapping of the ocean’s waves. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists.
The Testing will begin tomorrow. “I will make you proud, Father,” Tobin whispered.
An image of Kaz’s hateful stare flashed in his mind. Tobin opened his eyes. “And perhaps you will show me respect as well, brother.”
* * *
The Kifzo were roused from their beds long before the purples of dawn reached the sky. Tobin should have been exhausted after spending most of the night in thought, but the anticipation of the day ahead kept his limbs coursing with energy. He had expected to wake up to details about the Testing. Instead the Kifzo were sent on their morning run and progressed through training with no mention of it. If Tobin’s uncle had not been pushing the Kifzo with even greater zeal than usual, the day would have been like any other.
As the summer temperatures rose, and the thick tropical air choked them, the Kifzo began passing out from heat exhaustion. The grueling day unsettled Tobin. Whenever the Kifzo had been pushed that hard in the past, it was punishment for disappointing Cef or worse, Bazraki.
The thought ate at him. Do they know I was eavesdropping last night? Are we being punished because of my behavior? A cold lump formed in his throat. What if they deny me the chance to participate in the Testing?
The evening bled out and night soon arrived. The sky was filled with clouds and promised heavy rain before morning. The shadows of grunting warriors danced in the torchlight of the training ground. Tobin worked through a series of forms with his throwing axes. When he felt he could no longer lift his arms his uncle called out.
“Kifzo! To me.”
Warriors scrambled to the training ground’s center and immediately fell into lines for inspection. Covered in a day’s worth of sweat and grime, many struggled not to waver in their stance. Tobin’s uncle was quick to point out those who failed to conceal their fatigue as he walked their ranks. He pushed several warriors face first into the ground and then walked over them.
“Pathetic,” Cef called out. “All of you. I see you strut around with your chests puffed out as if you’re fit for battle. Some of you probably think you’re ready to lead a squad of your own or perhaps even the army itself.” He snorted. “I say you’re all still a bunch of scared little boys.” There was a pause as another young warrior’s legs were kicked out from him. Cef walked to the front and looked out amongst the warriors. He sighed. “Five candidates for Warleader have been selected. Ral, Durahn, Nedan, Kaz, and Tobin. Step forward.”
Tobin’s heart raced as he moved to the front. I still have a chance. He was jarred from his thoughts as Kaz shouldered past and knocked Tobin aside. “Watch your step, brother.”
As they took their places, Tobin’s uncle began pacing. “You few have shown the most promise. You few are the least likely to embarrass me.” Tobin saw the disgust in his uncle’s face as he passed Nedan. Cef came to a halt. “Each of you will select a squad of three. Do so quickly and then meet me in the barracks to receive your orders for the Testing. You will leave within an hour.”
“Tonight?”
Tobin flinched at the outburst.
Cef stomped toward the voice and stopped before Durahn. He stared the young warrior in the eye. Durahn was only fifteen, the same age as Kaz, but he was already larger than any other Kifzo and dwarfed most men, including Cef. “Yes, tonight. Is that a problem?” asked Tobin’s uncle.
“I would have thought it would make more sense for us to begin the Testing after we are rested, not after a full day’s worth of training.”
“And who is rest for?” asked Cef through a tightened jaw.
“Rest is for the women and the weak!” interjected Kaz.
A balled fist snapped out and struck Durahn in the gut. There was an audible exhaling of breath as the Kifzo doubled over. “So which are you?”
“I am neither,” said Durahn through ragged breaths.
“Good. Then you can take a lap around the training ground first before selecting your men.”
Tobin saw his brother smiling through the corner of his eye. Apparently, so did his uncle for Cef scowled and then added. “Kaz, you can join him. As a matter of fact, you all can. Being the best fighter or the most intimidating figure does not make you the best leader. Now, go and don’t be late to the barracks.”
* * *
Tobin made his selections as quickly as he could. The only person he was sure about was Walor. The short warrior had always been well attuned to his surroundings and his smaller stature made him an excellent scout. Walor was also one of the few Kifzo who accepted Tobin’s leadership in training exercises. Tobin hesitated over the others he had to pick from since Kaz selected the warriors Tobin was most interested in. At the very least, Tobin found comfort knowing that his other two selections, Charq and Yullik, excelled in training.
Inside the barracks, Tobin’s uncle stood before five piles of weapons and water skins. Cef opened a scroll illustrating the land held by the Blue Island Clan. He presented it to the Kifzo warriors. “Your objective is to locate and capture Suran. We believe that Bazraki’s former advisor has betrayed us and is seeking refuge within Arentel’s lands.” He drew a circle with his finger over an area in Arentel’s territory. “There is a choke-point on the border of Arentel’s land near a ravine. There are only two ways to cross it and because of his physical condition, Suran will be forced to take the easier route. It will be each squad leader’s decision on which path to take in order to reach the ravine,” he said tracing his finger over the map. “If you’re caught by Arentel, you are on your own. Arentel is not your objective and you will avoid all contact with his people. Bazraki wants Suran brought back to Juanoq alive.” Cef gestured to the gear and skins of water. “This is what you will carry with you on your journey.”
“No food?” asked Nedan. “But the journey there and back will take several days. We will starve without rations.”
Cef slapped Nedan. “No. You will starve if you allow yourself to. Have I not trained you how to find food?” Tobin’s uncle removed the skins of water from one pile. “And because of your weakness you will now need to find your own water.”
Cef turned and glared at each of the young warriors. He met Tobin’s eyes last. “This is your chance for glory.” His uncle turned away. “Do not waste it.”
Tobin caught the meaning behind his uncle’s words.
* * *
Tobin was last to exit the barracks as he made final checks over his gear. He headed for the door to join the rest of the Kifzo outside when a dark figure blocked his way. His brother’s bared teeth stood out against skin as black as the night.
“The last to get ready, eh, brother,” said Kaz.
Tobin ignored the comment and made to push past Kaz. His hand came up to Tobin’s chest.
“I’m talking to you. You need to show respect for your Warleader,” said Kaz.
“You aren’t Warleader yet,” said Tobin, meeting his brother’s eyes. The look in them caused Tobin to clench his fists.
Kaz noticed the change and stepped closer until his face hovered mere inches from Tobin’s. Although Kaz was a year older, slightly taller and carried more muscle, there was no mistaking their shared blood. “Do it, brother.”
Tobin wanted to make the move but he knew that if he did it would only give Kaz reason to strike back. He would kill me. Could I do the same? Tobin searched himself and found that he could not. As much as he hated Kaz, they were still brothers and he knew that his father would never forgive him for killing his firstborn. Nor would Bazraki forgive the shame that such a thing would bring him. My only hope is to become Warleader. Then Kaz will have no choice but to follow me.
“Kaz! Tobin! Go to your squads!”
The shout of Tobin’s uncle shook him from his thoughts. Tobin brushed aside Kaz’s hand and moved past him. He heard his brother snort as he walked by. “Weak and pathetic. You don’t have what it takes to be Warleader, brother. You never will.”
You’re wrong Kaz and I will prove it to you before we’re done.
* * *
Each squad leader struck out on their own course as they left Juanoq. Some left by way of the sandy coast, others through the thick jungles. And both of those choices offered many other paths to choose from. In Tobin’s mind each option had its faults and none were ideal. However, others did not share his view.
“We should have run along the coast, like Kaz,” said Yullik.
Tobin was not surprised to hear the comment as the lanky Kifzo had always openly supported his brother. Tobin glanced over his shoulder at the trailing warrior and watched his long braids bob with each step. “Running through the sand will only slow our travels.”
“But we will have more light to see by,” said Yullik.
“And more light to be seen by as well,” said Tobin.
“Wouldn’t Kaz have thought of that too? He still went along the coast,” said Charq, speaking in a high voice.
Walor cut in before Tobin could respond. “Kaz is not perfect. Besides, it’s too early in our journey to start questioning our leader’s decisions.”
Tobin heard a grunt from Yullik. Charq remained quiet. Tobin glanced at Walor. The short Kifzo met his eyes and gave a slight nod. The gesture was small, barely noticeable in the dark, but the support gave energy to his tired limbs as they traveled through the wet jungle. Rain struck the leaves around them and helped to mask their passing.
* * *
The Kifzo kept a steady speed for the rest of the rain-filled night and into the morning. It wasn’t until midday that Tobin finally called for a break. He had pushed a hard pace made harder by the grueling day of training from the day before. Even though his limbs ached and his muscles were sore he pushed on because he knew the other squad leaders would be doing the same. All five of them wanted to become Warleader, but Tobin doubted their reasons were similar to his own.
Tobin wished he could have pushed himself and his squad further but the advantages of rest outweighed the desire to press on. He took the first watch.
* * *
Tobin awoke to an oppressive heat. He took long swallows from his skin of water between bites of banana and mango. The food revitalized him more than even the sleep.
Walor glided silently through the thick foliage, ducking under vines and pushing aside low hanging branches to rejoin the squad as Charq and Yullik finished their hurried meal. “We’ve got company,” he said in a low voice. He picked up a skin of water, took several gulps, and then with a sharp twist, popped his back.
The group looked up from their food.
“Some of Arentel’s men?” asked Yullik.
Walor shook his head and wiped the sweat from his face. “Apparently, Tobin wasn’t the only one who thought this route was a good idea. Ral and his squad are just a few hundred yards southeast of here.”
Tobin caught the scowl on Charq’s face. That’s right. I’m not as poor of a decision maker as Kaz would have you believe. He turned to Walor. “Are they ready to move?”
“No. They still had a watch posted and were sleeping when I left.”
“We should leave now so we can outpace them,” said Charq.
They turned their gaze on Tobin. This is my chance. “No. We need to slow them down first.” Tobin glanced up at some vine. “We’ll bind them while they sleep and then set off with one fewer group to concern ourselves with.”
Charq snorted.
“Do you have a problem with my orders?” asked Tobin.
“Your orders? No, but your success is another story. We will not sneak up on Ral. Of that I promise you.”
He wishes he was a part of Ral’s group rather than mine. Charq and Ral were as close as brothers so it only stood to reason that Charq would defend Ral now as Tobin sought to overtake him. Tobin thought about how close he and Kaz were and suppressed a laugh. They are as close as brothers are supposed to be anyway.
Tobin narrowed his eyes and glared. “I’ll take point. The rest of you will stay further back and follow in only after my signal.” He eyed Charq one last time before setting off. The last thing I need is for you to warn Ral of our approach.
* * *
Tobin crawled arm over arm as his stomach rubbed against the wet ground. He glided across the slimy undergrowth as a snake would stalk its prey. He left most of his weapons with Walor so they wouldn’t get snagged on the shoots of bamboo protruding from the ground. The only weapon he kept was a dagger he held between his teeth - the blade slightly curved and the pommel studded with blue agate. Beads of sweat ran down his brow and into his eyes. The drops continued down his face and rounded his nose and lips. He tasted the salt but dared not wipe his mouth. Every move must be deliberate and well thought out. Every move must be planned well before the body makes it lest you betray your position. Cef had driven so many lessons into Tobin’s head that he could hear his uncle’s voice even now.
All Kifzo were trained in stealth but only a few stood out from the others. The ability to move undetected was one of the few areas in which Tobin consistently bested Kaz during training. The only Kifzo who could match Tobin’s skill was Ral, the very warrior he now stalked.
Tobin slowed his breathing as he inched forward. His heart drummed in his ears. After several minutes, he finally saw Ral’s squad. Tobin could not make out the details of those warriors still asleep but he could see that Ral was on watch. The warrior sat with his back against a tree and his head rocked as he fought to stay awake.
Hidden from sight, Tobin crept into position. He crouched onto the balls of his feet behind the remains of a fallen tree. Staying low, he removed the dagger from his mouth. He exhaled slowly and held in the next breath he took. Peering around the side, Tobin saw Ral’s head drop to his chest.
Tobin sprang up and hurdled the fallen tree. He landed quietly and made a clicking noise with his tongue to signal the others. With several long strides he rushed towards Ral’s position. There was no time for silence now, only speed, as the leaves rustled in his wake.
Ral jumped at the noise and sprang to his feet. His hand went for the sword at his back but it was too late. The edge of Tobin’s knife rested on the young warrior’s throat. They stared at each other for a moment until Ral slowly moved his hand back to his side. Tobin saw the frustration in Ral’s eyes and couldn’t help himself. “Tired?” he whispered.
Ral clenched his teeth but said nothing.
The rest of Tobin’s squad arrived and took care of the remaining warriors from Ral’s group who had yet to awaken. Tobin noticed the surprise in Charq’s face when he saw Tobin had succeeded. A look passed between Charq and Ral. After a moment, Charq turned to Tobin and nodded a sign of respect. Tobin returned the gesture, feeling much better about their situation.
A few minutes later Walor and Yullik finished with the last of the binds.
“What do we do with their weapons?” asked Charq as he turned over Ral’s sword in his hand.
“Put them in a pile over there,” said Tobin gesturing to a spot some twenty paces away.
“Cef would not want to leave the weapons of our enemy where they could retrieve them,” said Yullik.
Walor twisted his neck to the side and there was a crack. “Actually, Cef would want us to kill our enemies.”
Tobin looked at his men. “These are not our enemies.” He turned to Ral. “I’m sure they’ll get free eventually and when they do, they’ll need their weapons.”
There was an approving grunt from Charq and then he turned away. Walor passed by Tobin and clapped him on the back. Yullik gave a half-hearted shrug and followed. Was that their sign of respect?
* * *
They made good time after leaving Ral’s squad despite having to skirt around several small settlements. Families worked around their homes on mundane tasks and Tobin was careful that they did not draw any attention.
They traversed the unsettled rainforests with caution and stopped only once more to refill their water skins and grab another meal of fruit. Each step felt closer to fulfilling many of his dreams.
Tobin looked up as the fading light of day descended into the ashen grey of evening. A light rain had fallen hours before and a few of those clouds lingered. They crossed another small stream which ran into a deep gorge. After crossing the chasm, Tobin signaled for his squad to halt. They gathered and he whispered. “That was the ravine from the map.” He pointed ahead. “There are several trails that lead from here. We should split up and look for any recent signs of his passing. Signal if you come across anything.”
* * *
Not long after splitting up, Walor found a poorly disguised side trail that he followed down a ways before doubling back to tell the others of his discovery. They regrouped and retraced Walor’s steps. They came across a roaring fire that illuminated the gloomy night and cast flickering shadows out into the rainforest.
“Careless,” Walor whispered.
“Overconfident,” said Yullik.
Tobin raised a hand for quiet as they reached the edge of a small clearing where the fire was crackling in front of a crudely made hut. A large kettle simmered above the open flames, sending smells in Tobin’s direction that caused his empty stomach to twist in hunger. The prospect of a warm meal made him more aware of his exhaustion. He grit his teeth and remembered a lesson from his uncle. “A Kifzo must learn to do without. It is a weak man who gives into his wants.”
Tobin found it odd that Suran was not tending the fire. With a slight gesture, he signaled his men into the small clearing. The slightest of sounds from across the open space made him pause. Another squad of Kifzo appeared across from them. Both parties froze. Kaz. His brother stared back at him with eyes wide in shock. A slight twist of the sword in Kaz’s hand caused Tobin to wonder if his brother may have finally reached his breaking point.
The two warriors stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, though the exchange barely lasted a few breaths.
Suran is what is most important.
Kaz must have reached the same conclusion as the two brothers darted toward the hut. After barely half a dozen steps, the hut’s door swung open and a familiar face peaked through. They skidded to a halt in the damp earth as they stared dumbfounded at Nedan. Impossible.
The young Kifzo greeted them with a wide grin. Nedan and his squad stepped out of the hut. Ufer, one of Nedan’s men, took up a position to his squad leader’s right. Ufer then threw a bound Suran to the ground at Nedan’s feet. A woman, two girls close to Tobin’s age and a boy several years younger followed.
His family? I thought they had died months ago.
“I take it from the look on your faces that you’re surprised I’m here,” said Nedan. “It’s not too hard to figure out. Since you both made it here at the same time, one of you must have taken out Ral’s squad while the other took out Durahn’s.”
Tobin glanced over to his brother and saw Kaz doing the same to him. Kaz wore a look that confirmed Nedan’s assumptions. It was replaced by a hint of surprise when Kaz realized that Tobin had done the same to Ral.
“And that’s the beauty of it,” continued Nedan. “No one thought that I might get here first and neither of you thought to take the route I chose.” He started laughing.
Kaz snarled. “Give Suran to me. I am meant to be Warleader, not you.”
“No.” snapped Nedan. “I will be Warleader and you will obey my command.” He smiled again. “My father will love to hang such a thing over Bazraki’s head.”
No. Tobin realized his dreams were being dismantled before his eyes.
“I don’t care… which of you becomes… Warleader. Just let my family go. They are not… a threat,” said Suran through ragged breaths. It was obvious from the man’s swollen and bloodied face that he had tried and failed to resist capture.
Tobin was too curious to help himself. “I thought your family died.”
Suran opened his mouth but Nedan cut him off. “He told us he faked their death so he could get them away from Bazraki before he escaped himself.”
“But…” started Tobin, with another question.
Kaz interrupted. “Enough. I will not say it again. Give Suran to me.”
“Or what? Will you have our squads fight and kill each other? Your father wouldn’t be happy to have so many Kifzo die.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” said Kaz.
“Good. Then…”
Tobin’s eyes widened as the blade of a Kifzo dagger ran across Nedan’s throat and his words were replaced by a low gurgle. Nedan’s hand went up to staunch the flow of blood but it was too late and the young warrior toppled to the ground. Ufer stood over his fallen leader, crimson coated blade clenched in his fist. He and Kaz exchanged a nod.
Tobin’s stomach twisted at a sudden realization. He glanced back over his shoulder to his own squad. Walor stared in disbelief, Charq was blank-faced with indifference and Yullik held a menacing glare directed at Tobin. Tobin whipped his head around and saw Kaz looking down at Nedan. There was a grim hardness about his features. You knew this would happen. And your influence is so great that even though we chose our own squads, we couldn’t help but pick one of your most loyal men as they were also the most capable of warriors. All of them were ready to carry out your dirty work if you failed to reach Suran first.
“You killed your own man,” whispered Suran. He stared at Kaz. “You’re even worse than I thought.”
The comment seemed to snap Kaz awake. He walked over and kicked Suran in the side. “You know nothing about me, traitor.”
“What do we do with his family, Warleader?” asked Ufer.
Tobin heard the snicker in Charq’s voice as he spoke. Tobin turned and saw the warrior’s blank face come alive with excitement. “They’re supposed to be dead. I say we do with them as we like. Especially the girls. No one will miss them.”
No. There were several grunts of agreement from the other Kifzo. The prospect of having their way with the women eased the worry of those who were not prepared for Kaz’s betrayal. Tobin was certain that even Kaz would not allow such evil to occur. He watched as his brother turned his back on the warriors he now commanded. The only sign of guilt was a frown as the other warriors pulled Suran’s family into the hut. Suran cried out in protest but was ignored. Tobin looked to Walor for help but the young warrior shook his head with a begging look to remain quiet. I can’t let this go.
It was too late for Tobin to do anything about Nedan but he would not sit back and allow these atrocities to occur as well. He knew full well that such things would only continue under his brother’s leadership.
Tobin let out a growl as he lunged out toward Kaz with a sweeping arc of his dagger. His brother leapt back but not quickly enough. A crimson line ran across Kaz’s bare chest. Tobin moved forward to press his attack while his brother was off balance but a sudden pain seized hold of his leg. He stumbled and fell, hand going down to the throbbing sensation in his ankle. An arrow protruded from the side. He looked up and saw Yullik notching another.
“No!” called out Kaz while holding up his free hand. He grasped at the wound on his chest. and turned back to Tobin. “On your feet, brother.”
Tobin grit his teeth as he broke off the shaft and pushed the remaining piece of the arrow through the wound. He found the strength to climb to his feet and though his ankle throbbed, he knew the arrow had not crippled him. Screams from the women inside the hut and Suran’s pleas for mercy reached Tobin’s ears. Kaz kicked Suran in the head, snapping the man’s face around and knocking him unconscious. He faced Tobin again. “I’ve waited a long time for this, brother.”
Tobin unsheathed his sword and worked his jaw. As the two began to circle, he knew then that he, too, wanted this more than he realized. A sudden thought gave him pause. But what would father say? He would be embarrassed that his two sons fought against each other in such a way.
“Father will not say a word,” said Kaz, as if reading his thoughts. “Not on this night when he will allow anything to happen to prove who the most worthy is to lead the army.”
“Anything? Like raping and killing innocents? Even killing your own brother?” Tobin twisted the blade in his hand. “So be it.”
Kaz closed the distance between them with a leap into the air. His sword came down and Tobin’s blade met it. The impact coursed down his arm. His weakened leg buckled slightly from his brother’s weight but Tobin spun away before Kaz could seize the advantage. Tobin retreated, trying to open some space between them, but Kaz came at him in a silent fury, eyes focused and deadly.
Among the Kifzo, Kaz was the most skilled with a sword and Tobin found himself questioning his chance of survival. Kaz feigned left, then came around with an overhead stroke meant to shear off the top of Tobin’s skull. Tobin barely had time to defend the attack. Tobin’s heart pounded. His brother was trying to end things fast and if the strike had been precise, Tobin never would have survived it. The wound across his chest must be slowing him down. Tobin was certain that without his injured ankle he would have taken command of the fight. Hobbled by Yullik’s arrow, Tobin struggled just to stay upright.
Kaz sliced up and across in a tight arc as he pivoted. Tobin turned his brother’s blade away, but by doing so was left unbalanced. Kaz’s head slammed into the bridge of Tobin’ nose. His vision blurred then burst into white-hot pain as Kaz’s boot crunched down against his wounded ankle. Bones grinded then snapped and Tobin collapsed to the ground. He wailed, eyes widening at the white shaft jutting through his black skin. The end of the bone was covered in dirt from scraping the jungle floor.
With limbs shaking, Tobin grasped uselessly at his leg. A sword pressed against the hollow space where his neck met his chest. Through watered eyes he looked into his brother’s icy stare.
“Do it, Warleader,” Yullik urged. The hint of respect Tobin saw earlier when they dealt with Ral meant nothing now. He was always Kaz’s man.
“He is still your brother,” said Walor. Tobin should have been happy that Walor was trying to save Tobin’s life but he wasn’t. He only thought about how long it took for the young warrior to step in.
“I know what he is,” sneered Kaz. “I know what he is better than any of you.” He pulled his sword away from Tobin’s throat.
Tobin’s mind jumped from one memory to another as he grit his teeth to cope with the pain. Each image was of Kaz doing something to make Tobin’s life miserable.
Why do you hate me? What have I ever done to deserve such treatment? Tobin wanted to ask those questions now more than ever but once again, he remained silent as he focused all his energy on staying lucid.
“A quick death is too good for you, brother. You deserve to suffer.”
Tobin looked at his brother in defiance, uncaring whether he lived or died, and forced a grin, “Won’t the other Kifzo think you weak for letting me live?”
Kaz’s boot slammed against the side of Tobin’s head and the world went black.
* * *
The thick air and sweltering heat choked Tobin awake. His head pounded and swam with confusing nightmares and flashes of horrors inflicted on women and a young boy. Must have been a dream.
He tried to roll over and a sharp pain coursed through his leg. He looked down and saw the dirt covered bone protruding from his ankle. Blood and muck crusted the area around the wound. He took a deep breath and calmed himself as he took in his surroundings.
Not even burning coals remained in the campfire. Blood soaked the ground in pools next to several bodies. Nedan, was unmoved. Suran’s two daughters and wife were without clothes and covered in filth. The son was no better. Suran’s family had been used and discarded like trash with throats slit and left for dead. Tobin realized the visions he had awakened to were not a dream but simply the realities of his life.
The final body he saw was headless with hands still bound at its side. Suran. You didn’t want to take a chance that he would tell of your crimes here, eh Kaz? How you will explain everything to Father?
Left alone with only the sounds of the jungle around him, Tobin doubted if he would ever learn the truth. He now understood the last words Kaz spoke to him. Injured and far from his home, he was as good as dead anyway. Only now his death would drag out for days. Is that the suffering you had in mind, Kaz?
Tobin balled his hands into fists and rolled onto his good leg as he pushed himself up to stand. He hopped over to the hut and each jolt sent a wave of pain over his injured ankle. He passed the corpses as he pushed his way inside, sending a storm of flies into the air. A trail of ants had also joined the feast. The smell of death caused him to dry heave and the hollow eyes he caught from one of Suran’s daughters sent a chill down his back. It took him a moment to gather himself, but the scene only instilled in him a greater determination.
I won’t let him get away with this. I won’t give up. Once I tell father what happened, he’ll have to remove Kaz as Warleader. With Nedan dead, he will be forced to have a second Testing. And once the shamans heal me, I can compete once again to earn Father’s respect.
Off in the corner, Tobin found a water skin. He washed his ankle the best he could while his heart raced. He placed a rag in his mouth and then positioned his hands around the wound. He bit down hard and pushed the bone back under the skin. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he whimpered into the rag. There was a snap and an intense pain that shot up through his body and caught in his throat. His eyes rolled back and he blacked out once more.
* * *
Tobin came to sometime later. He looked down at his swollen leg. The bone was no longer visible. Flies already found their way over to the fresh blood of his wound. He quickly washed his ankle again and wrapped it in a makeshift splint. He fashioned a crude crutch from some of the wood used in the hut’s construction. Standing, he leaned on the crutch and examined his leg. It was far from where it should be but he could do nothing further by himself. He was not a healer and Kifzo were not expected to do more than treat the most basic of injuries. He hoped it would hold.
Before setting off, he checked his weapons and grabbed what water he could. He left camp without looking back. The gruesome scene had already etched itself into his mind.
* * *
The first night he awoke shivering. He felt his forehead and it was warm to the touch.
He wasn’t surprised.
He needed a fire but he wouldn’t dare build one while he was still in Arentel’s land. It won’t be long before he looks for Suran.
He curled up on the ground in a ball to stay warm.
* * *
After two days, Tobin felt like he had barely gone a mile. His crutch broke the second day and he had trouble finding a suitable replacement. He half stumbled, half crawled along the jungle floor, leaving a trail in his wake that even a child could follow. How have they not found me, yet?
His fever lessened after he found some Chacoa. He had been chewing the bitter leaves constantly and even tried packing their remains into his wound. Though it kept his fever down, it seemed that it did little for his injury. The skin had started to fester, and the puss was attracting all forms of insects.
* * *
Tobin awoke with a sense of danger. He slowly opened one eye. Less than thirty feet away a set of eyes peered out from the underbrush. A young jaguar, ribs visible under its thin skin, stepped out from the cover with a noticeable limp. It paused. Tobin began to laugh. He wasn’t sure if it was because of his fevered state since he had run out of Chacoa leaves, or if it was because the animal was as bad off as he was.
He was surprised he hadn’t attracted more animals with his wound reeking and spilling fluids everywhere he went. Though it was young and injured, the animal was still something he was in no shape to face.
He watched the beast inch closer through slotted eyes. He was too weak to throw anything and he would not have time to pull his ax or sword. He tightened his hand around his dagger.
Tobin steadied himself as the jaguar prepared to pounce. A second later, the animal was airborne. Tobin’s arm darted out and met the cat as it descended. The weight of the animal knocked the wind out of Tobin as the blade plunged into the animal’s chest. The jaguar clawed at Tobin’s torso in its death throes, but with a twist of his wrist, the beast went still.
After a few moments, Tobin rolled the jaguar off. He ignored the warm blood that flowed over him and began cutting at the jaguar’s shoulder. He had eaten anything in days except some grubs and fruit. He forced himself to chew the raw meat, grinding the sinewy muscle until he could swallow it. He nearly threw up twice as the meat reached his stomach but he forced it back down both times and continued. Each bite seemed to strengthen his determination to go on.
* * *
On his side, Tobin crawled. He left the thick rainforest and the land ahead was open. The night before Suran’s family visited him in his dreams. He had not harmed them but they blamed him for his failure anyway. He knew it was the fever that caused him to dream such things, but that did little to ease his conscience.
He faded in and out of awareness as he pushed himself past the point of exhaustion, but he refused to stop. He was almost home.
* * *
Blackness must have taken him again for he came to in relatively the same spot as his last thought. Face up, he noted the sun and knew several hours had passed. Two small shadows stood over him. Children? One held a stick. They jumped back when he moved his head.
“He’s alive!”
“Told you so.”
“Who is he?”
“How should I know?”
“Kifzo.” Tobin didn’t recognize his own voice but he knew he spoke. It came out in a tattered whisper.
“What did he say?”
“He said ‘Kifzo.’ See? Look at all those weapons.”
“So what do we do?”
“I don’t know. Go tell someone I guess. I’ll go and you can stay here.”
“No way. I’m going with you. He stinks and he’s full of bugs.”
* * *
Tobin stared at the pink sky when he heard soft footsteps approaching. The young voices from earlier caught his attention.
“We’re almost there. Can you smell him?”
“Shhh. Stay back,” said an older voice.
“Walor? Is that you?” croaked Tobin.
“Tobin!?” said the young warrior as he settled near him and wrinkled his nose. Tobin saw him look down at his ankle and then over the rest of him. He noticed the sullen look in Walor’s eyes and the sudden sag in his shoulders. “Your brother commanded us to…”
“I know,” whispered Tobin. “I know.”
Tobin felt himself being lifted from the ground and then flung over a shoulder. He wanted to protest as a Kifzo never showed any weakness but he had no strength left in him.
* * *
“He will resume training tomorrow,” commanded Bazraki.
“Training? The shamans said that his ankle will never fully mend. Too much time had passed since the original injury. I’m surprised they saved it at all,” said Cef.
“He will have to learn to manage. He has been bedridden for nearly two weeks now and his body is wasting away. I will not have my blood embarrass me further with his continued displays of weakness.”
“He nearly died. The fact he lasted a week in the jungle with his injury is the sort of thing you should want out of a leader.”
Bazraki snorted. “You just said his ankle will never be the same. He will never be Warleader. He came back crazed with fever and mouthed off some nonsense about Kaz doing that to him. Kaz and the other Kifzo already confirmed that he clumsily fell into a ravine. When they found him, they thought he was dead.”
“You don’t think that those circumstances sound strange?” questioned Cef, scratching at his neck. “And what about Kaz killing Suran rather than returning him alive as you commanded?”
“Nothing sounded strange. Tobin disappointed me again and Kaz did not. Kaz was being pursued by Arentel and took Suran’s head so they wouldn’t be slowed by the old man.” Bazraki shrugged. “Suran is dead. That is all that matters.”
“I would disagree. Kaz is not as perfect as you think he is.”
“Perhaps you are growing jealous of him?” Bazraki’s voice took on an edge. “Maybe I should have someone else lead the Kifzo’s training?”
Cef’s voice hardened. “I have loyally stood by you all these years and yet you accuse me of jealousy.”
There was a long pause before Bazraki spoke again. “I spoke with Nedan’s father again.”
“And?” asked Cef, his tone softening.
“The poor fool is still sobbing in front of everyone like an idiot.”
“Nedan was his only son.”
Bazraki grunted. “Then he should blame his wife for not giving him more sons. It’s not like…”
Tobin winced as he slowly backed away from the window. He heard more than enough. He cared little about Nedan’s father or anyone else right now. He had tried to explain the truth but because he came in feverish, many assumed he hallucinated the entire story. Rather than push the issue further and have his father think he had gone crazy, Tobin conceded that it all must have been a dream.
He hobbled away and cringed at every jolt of pain that hit him. The ankle injury alone was something he would never forget, something he knew was not a figment of his imagination. He remembered the arrow striking him, the fight with Kaz that followed, the pain of his ankle snapping in half and lastly, he remembered the boot coming down to meet his face. That was no dream. No more than the horrors done against Suran’s family.
The healers had done what they could for his ankle. They cut away the infected skin and mended the bone. However, all agreed that too much time had passed since the original injury for them to properly heal it. It seemed that Tobin would always favor the leg. They promised him that he would grow accustomed to the limp and learn to work around it.
Since his return, his father had yet to visit and Tobin needed to know why. After eavesdropping for only a few moments, he understood. I let him down again and Kaz only made matters worse with his lies. Father would get rid of me and cast me off to some remote location if it wouldn’t shame him so much to admit to the others that one of his blood could not complete the Kifzo training.
“Tobin?”
Tobin wheeled about and nearly fell over as his ankle gave way to the sudden movement. He threw up a hand and caught himself against a wall. “Walor? What are you doing up?”
“I had patrol tonight. What are you doing out of the infirmary?”
“Nothing of importance,” said Tobin.
Walor gestured toward Bazraki’s home. “What did they say?”
Tobin snorted, realizing he had been discovered. “That I was crazed with fever and my story was all a hallucination.”
Walor frowned. “I…”
Tobin raised a hand. “I know why you hid the truth.” He paused. “That night, when I was unconscious, did you…participate with the others?”
Walor scowled. “Of course not! I have two sisters. All I could think about was what I would do if someone did the same to them.”
The admission brought some relief to Tobin. “They must have ridiculed you for standing alone.”
“I wasn’t completely alone. Kaz did not join in either.”
That surprised Tobin. First you let me live and then you choose not to celebrate as the others did. Who are you, Kaz? But the curious thought did little to quell his anger. You think you can buy their loyalty without getting your hands dirty? Is that it? “He did nothing to stop them though, did he?” He snapped. “He is just as guilty as the rest of them.”
There was an uncomfortable silence as the two young warriors eyed each other. I just told Walor that he too was guilty.
“I am to start training tomorrow,” said Tobin with a sigh.
“Then perhaps once you regain your strength…”
Tobin shook his head. “No.” Tobin raised his bad leg. “I will never be able to best him now.”
Walor inclined his head. “Then what will you do?”
“The only thing I know how to do. Follow orders. If I must be like Kaz to lead, then I want no part of it.”
Tobin turned and left Walor alone in the night as he limped back to the infirmary. He was tired and knew he would dream. He also knew those dreams would no longer be filled with the things he had once desired. Respect. Loyalty. Admiration. Pride. No, he finally understood the realities of his life. His dreams would now be filled with the horrors he witnessed the night of the Testing.
With Kaz leading, Tobin knew those images would not be the last to haunt him.
About the Author
Unlike most authors, Joshua did not immerse himself into the world of books as a child. After finishing graduate school, he quickly made up for lost time by buying and devouring countless graphic novels. Remembering his love of the original Conan movies, he moved on to the fantasy genre with the compilations of Robert E. Howard. He was hooked.
Since then, he has moved on to other authors such as Glen Cook, Joe Abercrombie, George R.R. Martin, Steven Erikson, Paul Kearney, Steven Brust, Peter V. Brett, Patrick Rothfuss and many more.
Joshua was inspired to write and create his own fantasy world after reading Glen Cook’s Black Company series. Thanks to a vivid imagination, he soon found himself with more ideas than he knew what to do with. After some prompting by his wife, he decided to focus his efforts on stories in a series called Blood and Tears.
Due to uncertainty in the publishing industry these days, Joshua is pursuing self-publishing. Warleader, a prequel short story, and Rise and Fall, the first book, both in the Blood and Tears trilogy, are scheduled to be released by the end of 2011.
When not writing, Joshua lives a life devoted to God and spends time with his beautiful family. He is employed as an accountant.
Connect with him online:
Blog: http://joshuapsimon.blogspot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JoshuaPSimon
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JoshuaPSimon
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