Breakers of the Dawn

By Tyler Tarter

As the fight for Azela continues, the toll of war continues to rise as the young rulers try to balance their lives, loves and hopes with the reality of their new duties. Diplomacy and spreading success bring new friends and enemies to the fight, bring new hopes and problems. The sudden changes in the war have forced a response from the Zanditan Empire, bringing the other races to join the fight.
Now spread across the map, the young royals must each play their part, discovering the secrets that had been lost in time. With the many threats that abound throughout the land, they will be forced to turn to each other and the mystical powers that they discover.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tyler Tarter
• Release date: Oct 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005995768

Tyler Tarter

Tyler Tarter is a preeminent Author whose professional career began back in 2020 after his first published work. Since then, he has explored different writing genres and created a loyal group of fans who eagerly await his latest releases.

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Breakers of the Dawn

Book Two of the Roots of Conviction Series

By: Tyler Tarter

Breakers of the Dawn

Copyright: Tyler Tarter 2021

Cover: Miranda Tarter

ISBN: 9781005995768

LCCN: 2021907553

Preface

Admiral Yating woke in an unfamiliar bed, staring up at an ornate mosaic that reminded him of his childhood bedroom back in Zandita. Rolling to his side, he looked around for some context to where or when he was, his mind still swimming from whatever had happened to him. His last memory told him that he had been attacked in Puswa, but he had no idea how much time had elapsed since the attack.

Hearing voices around him, he could clearly hear the different dialects of his homeland being murmured from the hallway. The voices were quiet enough that he could not understand what was being said. Growing frustrated with his confusion, he shifted himself to the edge of the bed and quickly swung his legs down to touch the cold floor. As he stood up, his head began to swim again, causing him to stumble forward until he slammed hard into the wall a few feet from the bed.

Leaning against the wall as he let his swirling head get caught up with the rest of his body, he did his best to study the room for any clues that could help explain more about where he was. Looking out the window to his left, his heart caught in his throat as he recognized the red sandstone buildings and golden wood roofs outside. Walking slowly along the wall to the window he looked out at the street below, seeing the thin layer of snow that covered the wide street below causing the light to shimmer in the evening light.

At first, he had a hard time believing what he was seeing as pale-skinned people scampered by wearing the newest zanditan winter fashions on display in the store windows of the plaza below. A group of men stood on the near corner using their pyromancy to heat themselves while watching the fire dancers across the street. Nearby a vendor sold fresh soup and bread, warming each meal he sold with several small jets of flames that shot up from the palm of his hand. As he studied the people he could see, his vision was pulled towards several men marching past in formation, all dressed in finely pressed red and gold uniforms of the Zanditan Home Guard.

Cursing under his breath, he recognized several of the buildings around him as he began to study the skyline and knew where he was. Stepping over to the door of his small room, he threw it open and looked around for someone to answer his questions. A trail of curses following him as he moved each motion sending a stab of pain. Locating a young woman seated at a desk near the end of the hall, he began to make his way in that direction, his knees shaking and threatening to collapse with every labored step.

Reaching the desk, he collapsed on top of it, scaring the nurse, causing her to jump to her feet, leaving her book on the floor where she had dropped it in order to help him limp back to the room he had just come from. The entire way, she spoke to him in rushed Yaxathi, causing him to struggle to understand her, despite the fact that she was speaking his native language. Finally, as she sat him back down onto the bed he managed to speak, his voice coming out in a weak grinding sound.

How long have I been here…. Why am I here...... What happened to me....

After forcing him to lay back down the nurse covered him with his blankets and moved back to stand by his feet before answering. The last thing he remembered was her words ringing in his mind as it faded to black.

You were poisoned nearly six months ago, and you were brought to the Imperial Military Hospital to save your life.

Chapter 1: Hell is Green

The morning light shimmered through the layered canopy above Magnai softly lighting his surroundings. He shifted slowly, pulling his foliage-covered green tunic over his muffled scale male, wanting to stay as hidden as possible. When he was completely covered in green and brown clothing, he reached down into the ashes of the fire and covered his face with them, to darken out his skin that would stick out against the dark jungle.

During the first days of this campaign, they had learned quickly that the colorful banners and armor that usually accompanied the armies of Azela into battle were the deadliest thing you could carry with you into the jungle, making you an easy target to the ambush tactics of their enemies. Within a few days, the more strategically minded men were switching to burlap and thin cloth that had been colored green to give them the same cover in the thick brush as the rebel forces that they hunted. The thick jungle meant that his soldiers could only see a few feet in any direction, making combat a much more personal affair when the enemy showed themselves, but more often than not they would hide on the far side of a clearing and feather the first dozen men with arrows before retreating.

With the help of some of the more loyal tribes within the Venom Guard, they have changed their strategy, cloaking their entire army in the greens and browns of the jungle and covering and quieting their steel or removing it entirely. Doing this had leveled the odds for a time, but soon the Venom Guard rebels had disappeared back into the brush, coming out to strike quickly at a single soldier before slipping back into the woods. His army was still losing men, but the jungle was not as deadly as it had been when they first started.

Now he led a sourty through the jungle ahead of his main force, hunting for enemies and traps that lay in wait for them. For the last two days, he and his royal guards had moved as silently as possible down game trails and streams, trying to stay pressed against the brush as much as possible. He had kept an arrow knocked as he moved, constantly on alert for the next threat that could be waiting with every step, knowing that his enemy could be just feet away moving silently with their patchwork cloths of green, brown and black, allowing them to hide in the walls of brush all around them.

They had met resistance the first day, but they had quickly driven the enemies away with one of Magnai’s explosive arrows, ripping a large black hole in the trees and undergrowth in front of them. Since then, they had only contacted with a few scouts, either killing them or taking them captive. Moving at a decent pace they were now a mile in front of the wall of moving troops as they combed the jungle behind the sorties locating and destroying any enemy structure or personnel.

At first, they moved slowly as they began to press forward, letting the dawn light shield their advance. After an hour of moving down a narrow game trail, they emerged out onto a wide bend of a stream. Its murky brown water swirling around the many branches and roots that reached down into its depths like gnarled grasping fingers.

Easing himself down into the cold water, Magnai moved away from the shore and began to move through chest-deep water, his bow flat above the surface of the water ready to fire should he spot any movement along the shore. When his entire team had taken their places scattered randomly in the water, he drew his long, skinny bollock dagger, holding it in his draw hand to protect him or to clear brush as he moved.

Every sound was amplified in the tree choked corridor as they floated along, causing his men to grow cautious again. As the stream grew deeper, they eased themselves out of the mud and onto the firmer stony bottom of the river channel, allowing them to maneuver more freely. After a sharp bend in the river, the current began to grow stronger, pushing them towards a larger river that they could see shimmering in the distance. A sharp snap of twigs caused Magnai to slow his team with a quick hand gesture before moving up against one of the tree roots and sinking his body beneath the water until only his face and bow were visible with the waterproofed string drawn back to the tip of his nose. For several minutes they held their positions, moving forward enough to keep the water from forming roostertails around them, giving their positions away.

As the sounds drew closer, Magnai reached a finger up and disengaged the explosive component of his bow and strained to see what was coming. When the first man emerged from the brush wall just feet from the bank where the soldiers were hidden, he glanced around quickly before stooping to drink from the river using his cloth-covered half helm as a cup. Moving with the current, Magnai moved across the now large stream, positioning himself against a fallen tree on the far bank so as to better take aim.

The two Nonov Guards in his royal escort moved to join him, each taking up a protected firing position behind the barren limbs of the massive dead cathedral fig tree. His other men took up positions on the upstream side or floated past carefully to cut off any retreat downstream. After a few moments, the first man gave a whistle similar to birds they had heard earlier causing eight more men to emerge, cautiously drinking at first, then becoming more open as they drank.

When four more joined the small crowd, Magnai reached up and made sure that he had disengaged the explosive chemical holder on the front of his bow. Trying to not get too excited, he began to realize that they had hit the jackpot. He needed to make sure that this group was not completely destroyed and that his men wouldn’t be hit by the blast that would come from his explosive arrows. When he was sure that he was good to shoot, he quickly pulled back and let an arrow fly, catching the man in the center in the dead center of his throat.

Before the soldiers had a chance to react, five more arrows were in the air killing their targets instantly. Magnai loosed a second arrow striking the second target in the thigh, before loosing a third hitting him in the eye. When every man had fallen Niall and Ringean moved in, quickly silencing the one man left alive.

Rising slowly from the water, making as little sound as possible, the team moved up onto the bank and took up positions just inside the brush. When the prisoner was bound and gagged, he was pulled into the brush as well to be tied to a tree before they could continue. Quickly locating where the enemy soldiers trail had trampled the brush, Magnai gave the signal for his soldiers to follow before disappearing into the brush beside the trail.

Moving deeper into the brush beyond the river, the strike team followed the trail the enemy soldiers had used to reach the stream. Instead of moving down the trail, the soldiers moved through the brush on either side staying just out of sight, but close enough that they could easily eliminate any target that should appear. Leaving two men just inside the brush on either side of the path to protect their exit they pressed even deeper, following the sounds of men in the distance.

After creeping through the brush for about ten minutes they emerged at the edge of a large marsh lake, with a wood palisade guarded town at its center. Magnai held his tongue, resisting an urge to dance and scream as he spotted the army of men moving in and out and the Venom Guard banners flying from the ramparts. They had been looking for this fabled castle for weeks and now it stood in front of them, unaware that they had been found.

With a quick flick of his hand, he signaled for his men to retreat, leaving two of them to cover their retreat and to spy on the enemy’s movement. Waiting for Gaziz and Vaclav to move up into the nearest trees and take their positions in the canopy, the other quickly slipped back down the edges of the trail. This time they reached the river in less than three minutes, knowing where they were going from the first trip.

Still saying nothing he signaled his men to lash the man to some poles to form a crude raft and gag him so that they could carry him easily back to their camp. When the prisoner was ready, they slipped back into the stream, moving as quietly as possible against the current. Using pieces of bark and chunks of wood to break the current in a less violent manner, as they used the stream as a trail they made their way back to the main road that had been cut through the jungle where his command center stood surrounded by walls of pikes and a clearing that had been cut back to provide a range of fire from his archers.

With the sun finishing it’s climb to the peak of the sky; the party emerged around a bend and came face to face with their advancing lines. Before they could react or announce their arrival, twenty arrows and spears appeared to face them as they rose from the water and moved up the bank of the stream. Supplying the signal to the nearest soldier, Magnai worked his way through the camp to find his commanders to relay findings.

Moving through the camp, he began to be confused by the lack of officers in the camp and on the lines. He needed his status reports and information but couldn’t find anyone who could provide information. Finally, he found a young lieutenant organizing one of the next sorties near the armory who was able to provide some of the information he needed and give him the location of his key officers that weren’t out on their own scouting.

Bursting through the flaps of the blue and gold officers pavilion, Magnai found several of his missing commanders lounging out of the heat of the day as their men moved through some of the deadliest lands in the world. Magnai’s patience evaporated at the sight, enraging him to a righteous fury at the blatant laziness. Drawing his knife to cut down the hammocks full of sleeping lords that had been tied to the poles that made up the pavilion, letting the men slap loudly against the moist ground. Without a word his guard drew their knives and followed suit, slashing the cords on the top of the hammock dropping every sleeping lord on his head and let their ironclad boots fall roughly on the downed men.

As the lords began to rise groggily, Trocall and his guards joined him in the tent, clad similarly in the greens and browns of the jungle that still dripped from the river where they had just come from. With a quick nod of approval, Magnai acknowledged his brother-in-law and returned to the absent-minded lords that had been left to manage the affairs of the camp as it moved and maintain the status of readiness that befits an imperial army. Giving the lords who were starting to rise a firm glare. He turned and stormed back out into the heat of the day to find a way to organize his army for the coming battle.

His captains that had been hard at work or out on sourty all moved to join him from their various locations as they returned or finished the tasks they had been given. Seeing the depleted numbers of men, he could trust, he felt the exhaustion settle causing him to drop under a large banana tree, picking one of the ripening purple fruits. Taking a bite of the sweet fruit that became visible after he had peeled back the purple skin, he glanced around studying his officers and their preparedness. Calling each of the men forward that were clad in the proper camouflage and battle gear, he asked them to stand on his right, leaving only the unprepared lords adorned in the bright colors of castles and southern battlefields to stand on his left.

When the last of the lords had staggered to join him, Magnai rose to his feet and addressed the men who had been doing their job.

"I come with good news. We have located the fabled floating city of Osse Nalore. It sits in the middle of a jungle lake with no open waterway in or out during the low tide season. This gives us the ability to completely surround them and take them by surprise so that we could finish this fight in a single day. To accomplish this attack, one force will need to move through the center of the deep jungle, while the other swings down the stream to where it joins with the Trede River.

"Those who go down the stream will have to move through neck-deep water the entire time and will have to move silently with the current, but they will arrive first and cut off the city from the river and stream. The force moving through the deep brush will draw the interest of the city and will serve as a distraction as well as the last two sides of the bracket. From what I see here, the two forces are already in place.

Lord Ualli will lead the force into the jungle and every lord to my left will join him. Clearly, being obvious falls right into all of your wheelhouse. The lords and captains on my right will lead their forces down the river. We move in one hour, so get ready quickly and leave anything that would get in your way as you march, a small, hand-picked reserve will remain behind to protect the camp.

With that he rose and pushed through the crowd of lords and commanders before barking orders to the soldiers that were hard at work, ordering them to collapse everything and to prepare to move out. Slipping off into the brush to get away from everyone, he let his frustration boil over with those he commanded. He had always told his men that he would be beside them, but that is hard to believe when the men who were supposed to be his intermediaries were as arrogant and useless as fish in a desert.

A soft rustle startled him and made him grasp for his dagger before the fiery red hair of his wife became visible through the holes in the brush. Quickly sheathing his dagger, he moved towards her, knowing that if anyone could help calm him, she could. Moving a palm frawn aside he found her standing just inches from him.

Before her surprise could break, he swept her up in his arms and kissed her as he spun her for several seconds before settling her back down on the ground in front of him. Nearly falling to the ground as she began to laugh, she pulled him over to sit under an elm tree that stood at the center of the small clearing they were in. Settling onto the soft damp earth, they held each other close for a few minutes, before Giorsal spoke.

I heard about the orders for the army to charge into the brush before I even knew you were back. I was worried that something had gone wrong, and we were going to have to rush to save Trocall from some ambush. What is actually happening?

Holding her a little tighter, he sighed as he realized that his frustration with his fewer willing lords had caused her some unforeseen and unnecessary