Free Rise and Fall by Joshua P. Simon Page A

cavalry traps set the night before by Hell Patrol members while the Byzernians worked on clearing the valley entrance.
    Jonrell stood up, waving both hands above his head, signaling men on another ridge. Krytien stood, lifting one palm to the sky and aiming the other at what remained of Melchizan’s army. A flash of light shot from his outstretched hand, blinding man and beast alike. Then with a shout, the Hell Patrol loosed their arrows.
    Those still saddled wheeled their mounts and those unhorsed still able to walk, fled on foot. Among the later group Melchizan hobbled along, using his sword to support himself. Jonrell allowed himself a smile as he watched the man raise a fist in anger at every rider who passed him.
    Arrows continued to drop during the retreat as men perched on either side of the valley descended the slopes. A quick thrust from sword or knife silenced screams of agony from the dozens of riders. Man and beast alike had shattered their bones on the stone covered ground, nearly a third of those who entered the valley.
    Raker was among those on the ground, grinning ear to ear. He looked up as Jonrell neared, his left cheek puffed out with a mouth full of chew. “Woo, we got’em good,” he said, running another man through. “I can’t wait to find Lord Roundness down here. Think I’ll give him a stab whether he needs one or not for ol’ time’s sake.” He laughed.
    “Sorry but I saw him stumbling away with the others.”
    The mercenary’s eyes widened as he let out a string of curses. “We gotta get after him then.”
    Jonrell just shook his head. “He’s done. No sense in wasting more time. Those on horse that got away still outnumber us and we already know we can’t rely on the Byzernians to fight. We need to get moving in case they decide to attack again once we’re on open land.”
    Raker spat. “Ain’t that more of a reason to go after’em?”
    “No. Those who came into the valley looked pretty beat up from the battle we skipped out on, but we don’t know if others still loyal to Melchizan survived the fight.”
    Slaves hurried about near the wagons, getting ready to move when the order came.
    Raker shook his head in disgust and stabbed another groaning soldier in the gut, twisting the blade until the man heaved his last breath. The mercenary spat on the man’s face when he was done.
    “Is that really necessary?”
    “Is what?”
    Jonrell gestured toward the body.
    “Oh that? That was personal. I remember this one calling me a cheater when we were playing cards once.”
    “Were you cheating?”
    “Of course. But that don’t give him the right to call me one,” said Raker.
    Jonrell shook his head.
    “Commander! Commander, wait. Please,” said Wiqua, sprinting across the valley with the grace of a man half his age. However old that is. Jonrell barely noticed the desperation in his voice, too busy watching the man negotiate the rough ground far better than he could.
    “What is it Wiqua?”
    “Commander, please. I beg you to stop these men from what they are doing.” He held a look of horror as Raker slit a man’s throat. “I can help those who have fallen as well as the horses.”
    “Why? Are you some kind of healer? We don’t have time for that,” said Jonrell agitated at the thought.
    “Yes. Many of my people are. It is our way to heal, not harm. I promise you it will not take long.”
    Jonrell considered what he said for a moment. “Then work on the horses, but leave the men.”
    “But, Commander, these men…”
    Jonrell cut in, his voice turning to ice in the warm morning air. “These men tried to kill you, your people, and mine. Before that, they treated you like scum. If we allow them to live, expect more of the same. Now, if you want to do something to feel better about yourself, heal the horses. We could use them.”
    Wiqua bowed his head, but the expression on his face said he was not pleased with the answer. “Very well. You have kept my people safe again