Breaking the Gloaming by J. B. Simmons

Author:J. B. Simmons
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781494236700
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2014-03-05T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

STRAINED PRAYERS

“The strength of the people

acts only when concentrated;

it evaporates and is lost as it spreads,

like the effect of gunpowder

scattered on the ground,

which catches fire only

one grain at a time.

The least populated countries

are thus the best suited for tyranny.

Ferocious animals reign

only in deserts.”

Japha had the right guard. He held his spear parallel to the horizon that he monitored across the dunes. No man would approach His Excellency’s right without Japha seeing him. Nothing would touch His Excellency without killing Japha first.

He had survived marches in this stretch of desert. The absence of motion and the quiet of the night were reasons for more caution, not less. A full host of twelve royal guards joined this march. Eight of the guards scouted the surrounding desert. Four of them, Japha included, protected His Excellency and his four guests, Malam, Ilias, Seban, and the Valemidan concubine. Japha would not question His Excellency’s decision that she join them, or that they laughed and talked together. It was not his concern. Nothing interfered with his duty. He listened for any sound beyond their ring of protection.

Japha was thankful that Dassa had the front guard. Dassa had survived more of these missions than anyone, and he had the scars to prove it. They needed that experience, because this was the left guard’s first mission with His Excellency. That guard would have no name until His Excellency gave it.

A year ago, Japha had earned his name. He had succeeded in his first mission, and Dassa had been there to see it. Japha, like the new guard tonight, had long been a leader among the elite trainees. Dassa had given him the honor of escorting His Excellency as soon as his age allowed. He had been sixteen.

Sixteen and naïve, Japha thought. Naïve to the threats of the desert, despite a life of training and study. That night he had taken the front guard, responsible for seeing threats first. He had walked proudly before His Excellency. He had walked them straight into an ambush, right over a man hidden beneath the sand. Just after he had stepped past the body, the man had risen like a buried ghost, spear plunging toward His Excellency.

His Excellency had ducked under the ambusher’s attack, and Dassa—the right guard that night—had run his spear through the attacker’s gut, pinning him down to the sand.

By that time, Japha’s training took over. Six other ambushers had attacked them. Japha had killed three of them, and Dassa and the other royal guards finished the others. When they had returned safely from the voyage, His Excellency had named him Japha, which meant overcomer. He had failed to detect the ambush, but he had overcome his failure with force. He would always carry his name as a reminder. He had failed His Excellency once, and he would never do so again.

The attackers had been outcasts. Former soldiers gone rogue, likely for their disobedience. Touching a woman was the most common cause. Touching the drink was second. Once outcast, a Sunan soldier was sent into the desert and forbidden to return to the city.

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