As the group rode, Jerrik continued the interrupted tale. “I named Kevlin swordbrother and truefriend because he saved our kingdom from destruction.”

Kevlin stared at the big man, dumbfounded. That’s not how he remembered it at all. He’d failed. He’d lost his livelihood and the woman he loved. His entire life had proven to be a lie.

“This, I have to hear,” Ceren said. “That doesn’t sound like the Kevlin I know.”

“That’s not fair,” Kevlin said.

She gave him that I’m-better-than-you-because-I’m-noble look.

He wanted to stick out his tongue at her, but Indira was watching and he hesitated. Now that they were surrounded by soldiers and powerful magic, Ceren didn’t need to rely on him. It looked like she planned to make that fact very clear.

Jerrik spoke before Kevlin could think of a suitable retort. “It was a tough time in Donarr. We’d never hired mercenaries before and a lot of people hated the idea.” Talking seemed to ease his anger at Drystan. “We’re a nation of warriors, with enemies on two borders. We’ve been fighting the Grakonians and the Ragnheidur since the empire was founded, and we’ve never needed help.”

“So what changed?” asked Leander.

“Well,” said the big man slowly, “my father said we had too much peace. We didn’t have anyone to fight for a generation, and people started thinking there wouldn’t be another war. For a while, they were right."

“But about ten years ago the Ragnheidur and their Canavars attacked without warning from across the northern mountains. They razed two towns before our legions drove them out. There weren’t a lot of them, but we weren’t prepared. We’d gotten lazy."

“Instead of uniting, people argued about how to respond. Some even suggested sending a peace delegation to the Ragnheidur, and using mercenaries.”

Jerrik shook his head in disgust. “The king’s no fool. He didn’t bother with a peace delegation, but activated the third legion for the first time in twenty years. The Ragnheidur kept attacking every year in greater numbers, and people kept arguing about what to do."

"The king finally made a deal to try to settle things down. The fourth legion was activated and he ordered the repair of three mountain forts that had been abandoned. He also hired a column of a thousand mercenaries. Kevlin was one of them.”

“We didn’t know anything about the situation,” said Kevlin.

“Aye,” said Jerrik. “The mercenaries were in a tight spot. If they failed, they’d be kicked out for good, but none of our commanders wanted to work with them. My brother Jannik finally agreed to. He didn’t like the idea, but wouldn’t leave those men to die.”

“Jannik couldn’t protect us from the stupidity of our own captain,” said Kevlin.

“I take it things didn’t go very well,” said Gabral.

“Nay, but that gave Kevlin a chance to shine,” replied Jerrik. “Timaeus, the mercenary leader, led his force into a trap on their first campaign. Most of them died, but Kevlin salvaged some of the force and wiped out their attackers.”

“The Wheel spun in my favor,” Kevlin said.

“How so?” asked Harafin as the rest of the troop bunched up around them, straining to hear.

“I was a sergeant then and overheard Jannik explain to Timaeus about the forces we might face. That information proved critical. Our mission was to secure a mountain pass, and Timaeus led us into a canyon where the Raghneidur trapped us and attacked. It was a slaughter.”

Kevlin stared up at the sky through overhanging branches and thought of that terrible day. “Timaeus was one of the first to fall, taken by an arrow. He died before he ever realized what he’d done."

"There were only about a hundred Raghneidur, but all of them were Canavar handlers. They unleashed the monsters on us from both sides of the canyon. Our men were already in disarray and the sight of those beasts shattered all discipline."

"They're twelve feet tall, with skin as thick as plate armor. They reared up on two legs to fight, and many carried uprooted trees as clubs. They obliterated half our force in minutes, then started feeding on the dead and wounded.”

“What?” exclaimed Ceren. “They eat men?”

“Aye,” said Jerrik. “’Tis a terrible sight. Worst thing is when they start on the wounded. Those screams stay with a man.”

Kevlin nodded. “The Canavars began to feast, and the Raghneidur came down into the canyon to rouse them. During the lull, I took command as the senior living officer and rallied the men."

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"We didn’t have enough pikemen to fight the Canavars the way Jannik had advised, so I ordered each four-man squad to fight one Canavar, with an archer in support. With arrows distracting the beasts, we slashed the backs of their knees where the hide was soft. Once they fell, we finished them with a heavy stroke to the neck, or stabbed them through an eye, into the brain.”

“It’s tough fighting a Canavar close up like that,” said Jerrik.

“It was either that or get eaten,” Kevlin said. “We broke through, and from the rim of the canyon our archers finished off the Raghneidur, turning their trap back on them."

"The Canavars came after us again, but only in small groups. We knew how to fight them by then, so we killed them all. Only seventy-five of us survived.”

“You were lucky any of you got out,” Jerrik said. “Kevlin’s success against the Canavars was why the mercenaries got to stay on another season, with Kevlin in command. Over the next two years, he won every battle and became commander of the first full mercenary legion authorized by the king."

“Each year, the enemy kept attacking, and in greater numbers, despite everything we did to hold them. The year after Kevlin became commander, the king authorized a second mercenary legion. And that year, General Stigandr came to Donarr to lead his forces.

"By then, thanks to Kevlin’s success, people had started trusting the mercenaries and thinking they were a good idea. The king was even planning to authorize a third mercenary legion. With that many men, we were going to take the battle over the mountains to the Raghneidur.”

“That’s when everything fell apart,” said Kevlin. “I discovered that General Stigandr was playing both sides of the conflict. He had contracted with the Raghneidur to betray Donarr the next season and support a massive invasion they were preparing.”

“If he’d done it, the kingdom would’ve been destroyed,” said Jerrik. “The empire couldn’t have come to help in time.”

“I made a huge mistake,” said Kevlin. “I spoke of what I had learned with the leader of the second mercenary legion.”

“Commander Chayah,” said Jerrik.

“Aye. Commander Chayah.” Kevlin paused for a moment as the memories he’d struggled to bury burst into his mind like floodwaters through a breached hull.

He had been with Chayah almost a year then. They were both commanders, so what could be more natural? She’d been beautiful, brilliant, and his equal in combat. Completely smitten, he had expected to marry her when the campaign ended. He’d never considered she might be part of the plot to destroy Donarr, and kill him.

“She betrayed me.”

For the first time in years, he relived the anguish of Chayah’s betrayal, a memory that still burned him to the core. She had mocked him, laughed in his face, and said she was happy to see him die. She claimed that he had been nothing but an amusement to her.

It couldn’t have hurt more had she literally ripped his heart from his chest. Despite the passage of time, he still fumed at his stupidity in having fallen for her.

“She and the general knew I’d never betray Donarr,” he said, trying to keep the pain from his voice. “So they planned to kill me and use my death to motivate my men to join the attack on Donarr. They were orchestrating the whole thing with a Blade Stalwart.”

“That’s when you fought the stalwart,” Ceren said.

“Aye. His name was Shaemal.”

The anguish of that betrayal faded under other memories. Unexpected freedom, the explosion of action, and the desperate struggle against Shaemal and the general.

“I wounded the general in my escape, slashing his knee in a stroke similar to those we used against the Canavars.”

“He limps still,” said Jerrik with a vicious grin. “The healers could never fix it up right.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Kevlin said. “I warned your brother of the danger and escaped the encampment.”

“Aye. When you took off, half the mercenaries in the camp were sent after you. Jannik’s legion fought their way free and raised the alarm across the kingdom. General Stigandr was last seen fleeing across the Meinarr border at the head of what was left of his army.”

“Why didn’t you pursue him into Meinarr?” asked Drystan. “I’d have thought the king would’ve wanted the general’s head on a pike.”

Jerrik nodded. “That he did, but Meinarr wouldn’t let our army cross the border. They said they’d take care of it.”

“Do you have any idea where General Stigandr is now?” Kevlin asked.

“Last I heard he was still in Meinarr, working for them.”

“That’s madness,” said Kevlin. “Meinarr is a kingdom of merchants and farmers. If General Stigandr’s given any hold, it’ll be impossible to get him out. Sherah’s teeth, there aren’t enough soldiers in the whole kingdom to run him off.”

“The use of mercenaries in Meinarr has been discussed by the ruling council,” remarked Harafin, “although I never heard the details as you explained them. This must be brought to the attention of the emperor once we return to Tamera.”

“Will the council act?” asked Leander.

“That I cannot say.”

“So what have you been doing for the past two years since all of that fell apart, Kevlin?” asked Ceren.

“Trying to forget about it,” he said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. “And trying to keep a low profile. General Stigandr swore to hunt me down.”

“Why didn’t you return to Donarr?” asked Drystan. “Sounds like they’d have welcomed you back a hero.”

“I would have, but I wasn’t aware of the king’s decree, and I honestly didn’t think of it. I wanted to bury everything to do with my past life. Returning to Donarr would’ve made that impossible.”

“Well, you’ve got to come back now,” said Jerrik. “King Odovacar wants to talk with you.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

“After we’re finished,” Gabral said, bringing them all back to the present.

The men drifted back to their positions in the column, leaving Kevlin with his own thoughts. He had much to think about, and old memories to reconcile with Jerrik’s point of view.

None of it mattered until he got the rock back to Antigonus. He couldn’t afford to fail again. Despite what Jerrik said, he’d played an important role in pushing Donarr to the brink of destruction. He wouldn’t be responsible for the destruction of the empire.

They followed the road steadily northward for an hour until it turned sharply to the west. There they plunged into the forest. For the rest of the afternoon, they continued north. The heavy forest seemed intent on barring their way. At dusk they found a sizable clearing next to a bubbling stream and made camp.

The men set about their various duties, displaying the efficiency of long experience. In short order, the cooking fires were lit, the horses tended to, and guards posted. The air was clear and heavy with the scent of pine trees and late-season gandrel flowers.

Harafin drew Kevlin aside. “There are a few things the two of us need to discuss.”

“What sorts of things?” Kevlin asked uneasily. He’d rather not deal with Harafin right then. He felt emotionally exhausted after unearthing those painful memories, and just wanted to get some sleep.

“Magic.”