The Rebel's Vision Page 2

  “You look good. No injuries, and you didn’t have to shift this fight. I’m glad.”

  “Yeah, it went pretty well,” he said softly.

  There were dark bags under his eyes that upset her, but she didn’t comment on those. Alchan would get a piece of her mind later, but she would leave it until the mission was over. Rain was a young male who needed rest to continue healing his wings, which were progressing slower than she liked. It didn’t help they had to continuously cut the edges of the holes and slowly sew them closed every couple of weeks. They were in a war group, and that probably slowed it down further.

  “Have you seen my father?”

  “He’s fine. Barely a scratch on him, don’t worry. I checked him myself.” She dared to ask the question plaguing her. “When do you think you’ll be airborne again?”

  “I should have been after the last procedure with Leshaun and the healer this week, but with everything going on, Alchan and I decided it would be best to wait for this mission to be over before continuing the process. At this rate, I should be flying a little again by winter.” He shrugged. “We haven’t needed our wings. That was the reason we thought it safe to wait. There’s no reason to risk infection on the road. I can wait to get back to base like so many others with wing injuries.”

  She bit back a growl. “I’m glad you know where you are in the healing. Keep me posted, please.”

  “Can do, big sister.” He smiled wearily. “Thanks for the information on my father. I’ll find him later. I’ve got to get clean water from the stream and—”

  “Go,” she ordered, waving him along. He jogged off, leaving her alone in the camp. Even with all the warriors wandering around, tending small injuries from the day’s events, she was alone. She stood out from the rest, her position and her past keeping her separate, as it always did.

  “Um…Champion?” a male called quietly from behind her. She turned to see the young male holding a bandaged arm, but it didn’t seem serious.

  “What can I help you with?” she asked, eyeing him with curiosity. She didn’t know his name, and that wasn’t unusual. She knew very few names of the warriors in camp. There were several dozen of them and only one of her.

  “Do you know if we’ll be breaking down camp tonight to travel, or tomorrow morning?”

  “I don’t know, actually. His Majesty is with some of the rescued hostages right now. I’m sure once he’s done debriefing them, he’ll send word.”

  The young warrior nodded and scurried away before she could ask if there was anything else he needed, like a hand with his gear. An injured arm slowed a good warrior down.

  “Did he just run away from you?” Mat asked, stepping up to her.

  She shrugged indifferently, not betraying the deep sadness she felt. “Yeah, that keeps happening. Honestly, I think our people are more scared of me than they are of Alchan.”

  “Possibly. Come on, let’s get something to eat and celebrate how perfectly this mission went.”

  “Do you know when we’re packing up to leave?”

  “We march out tomorrow morning,” he answered. “Nevyn and Varon took the lead on that when they got back to camp. Most people will be packing non-essentials all night before camp is officially broken down.”

  “Good.” Mave crossed her arms and took in the camp around her. Another day, another mission, another blood splattered set of armor, and more Elvasi left dead in their wake. “How many did we free over the last three weeks?”

  “Two hundred. Those big farms have a lot of Andinna ready to run if given the opportunity. It was a good couple of hits.” Mat wrapped an arm around her waist. “But it’s only step one.”

  “It’s a damn good step.” She smiled to herself as she watched warriors wander around the camp, packing away things they wouldn’t need for one more night of camping. “Now, let’s help them so we can get home. Maybe tonight Leshaun and Alchan will have word from Bryn.”

  “Let’s hope,” Mat agreed, kissing her temple.

  It took most of the evening, but eventually, Mave felt like she had done enough and found a seat, listening to warriors whoop and holler at their victorious day. The energy of the camp was high, even if they were tired and hungry.

  “Are you going to party?” Zayden asked as he sat next to her. “Sen and the boys have been asking for you to join them in celebrating. They’ve convinced Alchan to let them stay up late tonight.”

  “I take it you found Rain, and he passed along this news?” She lifted an eyebrow as Matesh sat down on her other side.

  “You’re right—”

  Suddenly, drums began playing, a loud beating rhythm from the other side of the camp. A second set quickly joined in, then a third.

  “Ah, the females are having a good time,” Mat said lightly, elbowing her. “Should teach you the drums.”

  “Only if you convince Bryn to dance for me,” she reminded him. That was their deal. Until then, she knew how to play the flute and enjoyed it.

  “Kind of hard to convince him since he’s not here,” Mat retorted. “But I’ll get back on him once we see him again.”

  “There she is!” Sen yelled over the ruckus going on around the camp. She laughed as the mutt ran over and wrapped his arms around her. “I’ve heard one of your men is off on some important mission. Does that mean there’s an opening for a salty sailor who needs some love?”

  “That means I miss him, but salty sailors who are going to leave for months on end are not my type,” she answered, hugging him back. “But it’s really good to see you. In the rush of that night, I didn’t even have a chance to consider how to save any of you. None of us did, but I’m glad we have you now.”

  “Ah, well, it’s fine,” Sen said, pulling back a little. His hands held her shoulders as he looked her over again.

  “How bad is it, really?” she demanded softly.

  “Lost half my crew in the water that night. Lost a few others after we were captured. Poor dwarves lost Bodie, the patriarch of their branch. The twins and their mother are still alive.”

  “Damn. I’m sorry—”

  “No need to apologize. Alchan’s done that enough, and even so, we knew what we were signing up for. I knew who I supported and the possibilities.” Sen patted her cheek. “You look good.”

  “You look like shit. Have you eaten?” She smiled as he coughed at her bluntness. “Really, sit down and eat something. Mat, Zayden, do we have anything?”

  “I can find someone with some wild stew going. I’ll be back,” Zayden offered and jumped up to find them something to eat.

  “So, this rebellion, huh?” Sen sat in the place Zayden left open. Mave took her seat back, leaning into Matesh as the Elvasi-human mutt spoke. “Seriously?”

  “Mostly we’ve been setting up in the Spine and preparing for the coming winter,” she explained. “Alchan probably said all of this.”

  “No, I didn’t give him a chance. Told him all about what me and the boys went through, then left him to figure it all out. Anyway, you’ll tell me more than he ever will.”

  “Yeah.” She chuckled. “So, we’ve been hiding out on the northern edge of the Dragon Spine, making a home. We’ve been on the road for weeks now, preparing for this. We freed around two hundred Andinna east of here, in an effort to distract everyone from our real objective—getting you back. It worked, and here we are.”

  “What’s this secret mission Brynec is on? Where’s your little lover?” He frowned at her, and she could see the concern in his eyes. “It’s not often I see the Company split up. Kian ain’t here, either. He still angry with everyone?”

  “No, he’s maintained control over home with Luykas, and we decided he needed more time to settle after Senri was taken from him. Even with her back…let’s say, they had some things they needed to work through,” she explained. “I know, we’re completely split up right now. It’s not comfortable, but we have you, and now, we’re heading back.”

  “And Bryn?” Sen didn’t drop it.


  She’d been trying to skip it, but the captain was beginning to look like a hunting dog on a scent. Her chest tightened painfully as she thought of the weeks since she had last seen her rogue lover—his lean form, bathing in a hot spring, his careful dedication to keeping their home clean, his blue zircon eyes, the same color as the summer sky.

  Skies, I miss you, Bryn. Please be safe out there.

  “He’s scouting north of us, looking over Anden to see what the best strike locations might be and how to drive the Elvasi out of our homeland,” she finally answered, giving in to his stare. “He’s been gone for six weeks now, and Alchan has banned me from asking for reports from him or Leshaun. He’s got one of Leshaun’s books.”

  “Ah. I threw mine into the sea when I realized the ship was going down. A lot of important things are kept in those books.”

  “So I’ve heard. Oh, here’s food.” She saw Zayden bringing a large, heavy pot their way. Mat ran over to help him, and they got it settled over the fire. As bowls were filled, she continued. “So, this was the first real thing we’ve done as a rebellion. Without getting you back, we would have been dead in the water.”

  “Well, I’m glad to be of service,” he declared, taking his bowl. “Let’s get this rebellion moving!”

  “Let’s get back to the village first,” Matesh said, chuckling.

  Sen thought about it for a minute and eyed her.

  “Please,” she added. “We’ve been on the road at a rough pace for three weeks, and half the unit is wounded to some degree.”

  “Fine! Then we’re going to get this rebellion fuckin’ moving!” Sen grinned, all that charming sailor attitude on display.

  “Perfect,” she agreed, smiling in return.

  2

  Brynec

  Brynec climbed the side of the cliff, enjoying the physical activity more than flying to his destination, which he had been doing for weeks.. Anden was covered in mountains, most of them long dead volcanos, and towns naturally formed around them and the rivers that flowed from them. He was weeks from home and tired, but he had to keep looking, had to keep learning. He had one mission—to see what was left of their homeland and who was currently living in it.

  He’d done the western coastline first, seeing how the Elvasi held a few strongholds on the water, but as he traveled back inland, even small homesteads became rare as the weather turned bitterly cold and the terrain became precarious.

  Ain’t nobody livin’ out here. Alchan is goin’ to be happy.

  Another village, devoid of anyone. The only thing he saw now when it came to the Elvasi were the irregular military units that patrolled the country and the more frequent but less dangerous hunters. Anden was always a wild country, everyone knew it, but it made Bryn confused to see the emptiness. Even if the Elvasi were having a hard time, they could have used the homes and towns built by the Andinna. Not everything was on a cliffside. There were a number of towns based in valleys along the roads, safer than any of the mountain towns and villages, but even they were deserted.

  “Nothin’ makes any sense anymore,” he muttered aloud. “They hold all their strength on the coast, and we could never break through. Every Andinna I’ve ever met had been certain Anden was completely colonized, but…it’s not.” He huffed, shaking his head. “Did they really find it that hard to live here? There’s nah way. Elvasi are a long-lived race. They should have been able to tame and beat the land into submission after a thousand years and have an entire boomin’ culture.”

  Every day he asked himself the same questions, and every day, he had no answers. He couldn’t bring himself to send a report in for two weeks because he was confused by the lack of Elvasi in the heart of Anden. He was certain he would find something of worth to report, eventually, and if he found nothing, he could report a large, empty area with few threats. He pulled out the small leather book from his pack and flipped it open.

  The last thing Leshaun had to tell him was that they were proceeding with the mission to save Sen and the others lost during their attack on Ellantia. He’d had no word since, but maybe that was just because of their business. Freeing hostages wasn’t an easy mission, but he knew why they were doing it. They needed Sen and his sailors, and they owed it to the Hornbuckles. None of them would have been captured if they hadn’t been friends of the Andinna and helping them. With Sen and the boys back in the fold, they would have transport out of the continent if they needed it. They would just need to capture a new ship, something they had done enough now, it should prove an easy task.

  They’re off savin’ friends, and I’m here, dickin’ around in the middle of Anden with no one and no real objective anymore. I was supposed to be finding out the best places to attack to chase them out of our borders, but there ain’t no one to chase off.

  Fuck, I just want to get back to the mountains and see them. It’s fuckin’ lonely out here.

  He couldn’t report that, so he tucked the book away and started climbing again. This mountain had a village at the base, but he was interested in what lay at the top—a temple to Kristanya, their dragon goddess of war, death, and darkness. For some reason, he wanted to be there, wanted to see it. He’d never had the chance to visit any temples when he was young, before the war was lost. He remembered his childhood, then slavery. This was his first chance to explore something so important to his people, and it felt like the right goddess to pray to. They were trying to find footing to start one of the greatest fights for their people of all time.

  He grew tired halfway up, and the sun was beginning to dip. He didn’t want to rely on flying because he was tired of it, but he gave in, knowing he wouldn’t reach the temple before nightfall without it. If he’d flown originally, he would have been up in only moments.

  He stopped on a small cliff and jumped, letting his wings catch the wind. With only a few flaps, he was gaining altitude quickly and found a warm updraft, letting it help him soar even higher. Andinna temples were once renowned for their construction. Climbing to them was considered impossible, and most times, it was. As he rose, he saw that he was about to reach a smooth cliffside rising up over three hundred feet. He would have been stopped there, with nowhere to go except down if he didn’t have wings.

  He continued up, higher and higher until finally, he saw it.

  A large hole was blown out of the mountain and carved into something beautiful. Pillars made of the mountain stone reached to the ceiling and sculptures were carved into the sides. He landed and took in the master work—dragon sculptures, weaving in and out of each other, breathing fire, but not battling each other. The vicious nature of the sculptures was pointed outward, imposing to all who entered the temple. A warning, even a challenge if one was brave enough. To tread in this temple was to tread in the eyes of Kristanya, and she was always ready for war.

  He stepped inside, leaving the foreboding landing behind him. As he traveled into the temple, his breath was quiet as he felt like he walked on sacred ground.

  He’d taken the scouting mission for a lot of reasons, the most important being only he could do it well and safely. But privately, he remembered thinking about how nice it would be to see Anden and everything in it without the disturbance of others. If Mave and Matesh had come, so would half the Company, believing they needed to be a group to be protected. He was glad he could just stand in the silence of the deserted temple, even though his heart squeezed with longing for his little family.

  They’re fine. Mave and Matesh wouldn’t let anything kill them before I could see them again. Hopefully, they’re missing me as much as I’m missing them.

  Bryn walked deeper into the temple toward the main altar. For such an extravagant entrance, the main altar was simple in design—a sacrificial table with a clay bowl on it, all covered in a thick layer of dust. It made the black marble seem gray, but he figured that was also because of the light. He frowned and realized he couldn’t go any further until he dealt with it.

  Rushing back out of the temple, he found s
craps of wood and tinder. He needed a fire if he planned on spending his night in the temple so high on the mountain. Luckily, the vegetation of Anden was used to altitude and snow, and trees grew high up on the mountains with ease, providing him with everything he needed. He approached the main altar again, deciding he would use it as his main room. He could search the numerous backrooms and quarters of the temple later.

  He built his fire quickly, letting it grow to a blaze, lighting the entire room. From the main altar, he only had to turn around to see the entrance, a convenient design for those who wished to say their prayers and leave again. It was a large, open space, but it was sheltered from outside light. The fire was definitely needed to see the rest of the temple.

  He took a moment to take in the artwork over the altar. Sculpted with a thin layer of paint was a mural of Kristanya, the black dragon, standing on a mountain peak with several Andinna flying around her. Legends said she never took another dragon as her lover, instead showing love and receiving it from the bravest and most true warriors of their people. There was an interesting thing about her design captured on the mural.

  She had no wings.

  So, the priests took that literally, eh? The reason Andinna have black wings was that Kristanya decided no warrior of hers would ever long for the love of the sky. Ownership of the sky made her great, and she would see her people great. She gave us her wings.

  He chuckled as he remembered learning that from his grandmother as a little boy. She drilled him in all the ancient lore of their people and made sure he knew how to show respect for each of their gods and goddesses. Never disrespect the sky, she said. That was where their gods were the most watchful. The Andinna and the wyverns only had the claim of supremacy over the expansive sky thanks to their gods.

  Too bad my grandmother never got to see Elvasi riding gryphons. Our claim is being challenged.

  It was yet another reason he chose Kristanya’s temple to pray during his mission. He didn’t have the time or resources to get to a temple for every member of the dragon pantheon, but he could make it to one. He had to make it count.