Fate of an Empire (Talurian Empire Trilogy Book 1) by Jonathan Pasquariello Page A

bath he had received in the soldiers’ infirmary.
    While staring
off into the endless crowd, a little girl reached up and touched his hand,
“Sir, are we safe? Do those bad men outside want to hurt us?”
    Kaillum
stopped and looked down at the girl. She was maybe eight or nine, and her
tattered clothes and unkempt hair made evident of a rough life on the streets.
    “What is your
name little girl?” He asked kneeling down to her level.
    “Kari,” she
smiled.
    He couldn’t
help but smile back, “Well, hello, Kari. My name is Kail.” The name he had given
back at the barracks.
    “And no,
nothing will happen to you. I promise.”
    “You can’t
promise her anything! Her parents promised her they would be back someday! And
where are they? Took off in a fancy-dandy carriage and never returned.” A
rough, old voice griped from a pile of dirty blankets behind the girl. An
elderly man threw back his covers. “I can protect her just fine. Now go! Shoo!”
    He showed all
the signs of a street beggar, although it was obvious in appearance that the
man was related to the little girl.
    “I’m sorry,
sir. I didn’t mean to—”
    “Eh!” The old
man threw his hands in the air. “Oh, it’s fine… it’s fine. Kari, go stand in
line for more soup. You need the nourishment, and they are handing out seconds
to the small children.”
    Kari ran off
with a smile on her face, waving goodbye to Kaillum.
    “Again, I am
sorry to interfere with you and your granddaughter.” He bowed to the man and
went on his way.
    As he walked
off, he heard the man grumble, “At least you stopped to give her a minute of
your time… More than any of the other soldiers.”
     
    *
* *
     
    Eyes, may
you see clearly.
    Feet, may
you move sure and swift.
    Sword, may
you strike with fury.
    Shield, may
you hold true.
    The order
came and, without hesitation, he was charging at the fortress.
    Surrounded
by his comrades, his friends, and his brother…Rurik shouted out a blood-curdling
war cry, pulling his shield from his back as he ran toward the Kilgarian
soldiers. He looked to his left and saw Klaric and, to his right, Aamin, his
little brother—proud soldiers of the Talurian army, willingly risking their
lives for Emperor Tymedious and their great Empire.
    A rain of
arrows fell from the sky. Rurik dropped to his knees, thrusting his shield
overhead.
    Through a
gritty smile, Rurik said to his brother, “So is this what you thought it would
be like to fight alongside your big brother?”
    An arrow
tip stabbed through Rurik’s shield nearly digging into his shoulder.
    Aamin let
out a nervous laugh, motioning up at his thicker, sturdier tower shield.
“Nothing a good shield can’t stop.”
    The last
arrow hit the ground and, in unison, the group was back to a sprint.
    They leapt
over the barricades and came down on the enemy with fury. Swords cutting flesh
and bone, spears flying, trampled Kilgarian men lying dead under the weight of
the deadly Talurian infantry.
    Within
minutes, the battle outside the gates of the fortress was over. Rurik and his
men hid for cover underneath the overhang of the perimeter walls, waiting for
the bombardment of siege weapons.
    “Rurik! We
took them in minutes!” shouted Klaric, waving his sword in the air in
celebration.
    Aamin let
out a laugh. “Damn! That was invigorating! No wonder you guys get the girls
with all these stories!” That made the men around laugh and slap Rurik’s
younger brother on the back.
    “Now you
have tasted blood. No going back! Women and war… all a good soldier needs”
roared an old veteran.
    Rurik
nudged Aamin, smiling underneath his helmet, “good job...”
     
    “Brother!” Rurik
lurched forward, hunching himself on his elbows. He was in his cot. Someone was
knocking on his door, loudly.
    “Coming…
coming.” He sighed
    He jumped to
his feet and reached for his sword and shield. His hands were clammy, tunic damp
with sweat. 
    I was
dreaming...How long had I been