Rise of a Hero (The Farsala Trilogy) Read Online Free

took a deep, steadying breath. “You know the army was defeated?”
    “Of course. The whole countryside knows that, and the Hrum are advancing. But how could we be defeated? We had assembled the mightiest army in Farsala’s history!”
    For a moment Kaluud looked his age—eighteen, the same as Jiaan and Markhan. Fasal was actually a year younger, but his face was old with bitterness as he replied.
    “They had lances. Very long, over five yards. We didn’t know—who could have imagined men wielding something like that? They brought them up as we charged, and killed the horses.”
    He had to stop and swallow, and Jiaan grew cold remembering the sound of the chargers’ screams. At least Rakesh was healing well. The high commander must have somehow pulled his steed aside in those last, impossible seconds, for Rakesh had suffered only a deep gash in his shoulder.
    “With the horses dead,” Fasal went on, “we had no choice but to fight them on foot.” He tookanother breath, but found no further words, and ended with a silent gesture of despair.
    In truth, no more needed to be said. The Farsalan deghans were—had been—cavalry, all their fighting methods dependent on their agile, well-trained horses. And the Hrum were the best infantry in the world. The deghans hadn’t stood a chance.
    Kaluud and Markhan exchanged dismayed glances.
    “I see,” said Markhan quietly.
    Fasal’s groom rode into the yard, breaking the moment of silence. Jiaan heard the door open behind him as men began to emerge from the farmhouse that now doubled as the camp’s kitchen and the headquarters of Farsala’s so-called army.
    No, it is an army, Jiaan told himself. No matter how small and battered. My army . He didn’t know whether to laugh or weep.
    He hadn’t wanted to command, the night after the battle, as survivors slowly found their way to the fire he had kindled. But Fasal had ordered the handful of injured, exhausted men to attack the Hrum camp, to try to rescue the prisoners. Riddenwith guilt for having survived when their friends and comrades had fallen, and trained from childhood to obey their deghan leaders, the men would have tried—if Jiaan hadn’t intervened. He had taken command in his father’s name, because he knew it was what his father would have wanted. He just wished he knew what to do with it.
    Men were coming from the barn too, and the woods where the barracks were being built, as word of the new arrivals spread.
    Fasal stiffened his spine, bracing himself for bad news, and turned to Kaluud. “You said the Hrum were advancing?”
    “They took Desafon shortly after the battle,” said Kaluud. “You’ve probably heard that?”
    Fasal nodded, and but now Kaluud hesitated. “Well, they marched straight to Setesafon. The city guard fought. They fought like lions, the country folk said, but Setesafon is too open. The palace was even worse. You remember. All those gardens. The Hrum . . .”
    “They took Setesafon two days before we reached it,” Markhan finished harshly. “The gahn is dead, executed in sight of the whole city.” A murmur of dismay rippled through the listening crowd, butJiaan had expected it. “His wife and his children, the young heir, are in the Hrum’s slave pens now—if they haven’t been shipped out already. That’s why we made such haste to join you. The first thing we must do is free the heir. But your groom found us at Setesafon and it took us over a week to get here, so I hope the army isn’t too far off.”
    He looked around the yard, now filled with somber, listening men. “Is it much farther? Your man said you were with them.”
    “Markhan.” Fasal’s voice was rough. “This is the army. All that’s left of it.”
    “What!” Markhan looked at the crowd again—fewer men than a small village could boast. “But that’s . . . There were almost seven hundred deghans in the army! Where are they?”
    There had been almost seven thousand other men in that army, Jiaan