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

killed the gahn. Just how do you propose to stop them? Commander .”
    “At Mazad,” said Jiaan deliberately, and saw all three of them look suddenly, grudgingly thoughtful.
    “But Mazad’s a tradesman’s city,” Kaluud protested. “If Setesafon’s guard couldn’t hold out—”
    “Mazad has walls,” said Jiaan. “Walls, and supplies, and deep wells, and its citizens are prepared for sieges.”
    He watched their faces brighten further, and felt something approaching despair. His father had led the deghans like this, offering hope and pride as the carrot—since he wasn’t allowed, he’d once commented dryly, to hit them with a stick.
    But how could they fail to realize that the Hrum must have conquered hundreds of walled cities? Jiaan was certainly aware of it.
    “Mazad is also a city of weapon-smiths,” Jiaan went on. “So hopefully they can figure out how to make swords that won’t break like dry wood against the Hrum’s. I don’t know if you heard that, about the battle, but the rumors are true. The Hrum’s steel is stronger than ours.”
    Jiaan’s own sword had shattered on a Hrum blade, leaving him at his opponent’s mercy. And perhaps he’d shown mercy, for he’d only knocked Jiaan out with his shield. The line of battle had passed over Jiaan when the Hrum advanced, leaving him alive. There were still times when he regretted that, but they were growing farther apart.
    “Is that how they beat us?” Kaluud demanded suddenly. “When we heard about the battle, I couldn’t believe . . .”
    Jiaan sighed. “Not really. They beat us when they broke our charge with their lances. But the swords were the reason they beat us so badly. That so many died.”
    He knew it was true. The traitor who had lured Jiaan, all unknowing, into revealing the Farsalan battle plan, really had very little to do with their defeat. But he would still die, as soon asJiaan found him. That wouldn’t happen today, though. Probably not till the land was free of the Hrum. Then there would be time for vengeance. But to free Farsala from the Hrum . . .
    “It all hangs on Mazad,” Jiaan continued. “We have to concentrate on supporting them. I haven’t been to the city myself yet, but I’ve sent messages to the governor explaining the situation, and he’s confident he can hold out till next spring. Our job will be to harass the Hrum besiegers, and for that we’ll need more men and better weapons, so—”
    “So you intend to sulk in hiding while the heir—our gahn!—is dragged off into slavery, in the hope that one day the Hrum will condescend to give him back?” Kaluud asked contemptuously.
    Fasal had described Jiaan’s plan in exactly the same tone, if not quite the same words. Could none of them see beyond their honor to the facts? Jiaan sighed. “We don’t have the men, or the horses, or the—”
    “Or the courage,” said Kaluud. “Which is why deghans fight and peasants farm, and putting half bloods in positions they can’t handle always fails. If the commander had seen that, if he’d had a deghan at his back, he might be alive today!”
    That thought had occurred to Jiaan himself, in the deeps of the night. If only his father had appointed a deghan, a real fighter, to carry his banner, instead of a jumped-up archer who fell and broke his collarbone when his horse shied at the Hrum’s lances. If Jiaan had cared less about earning the others’ respect, if he’d had the sense to refuse the honor when his father offered it, would the commander still be alive?
    In the morning light, he knew it wasn’t true. But hearing it spoken aloud struck him dumb, and he felt his face grow cold, which probably meant it was pale. A fine picture of a commander that presented.
    Jiaan opened his mouth to reply, with no idea what he was going to say, but Fasal beat him to it.
    “No,” he said firmly. “I didn’t see him fight—I was in another part of the line—but he was taken out by a Hrum soldier when his