The Rebel's Vision Page 3

  Could have picked Lariana. She’s the true creator of our race. She’s the one who led the dragons and claimed the male elementals as her husbands and…

  Bryn shook his head at the idea. He was a warrior. Kristanya was his to pray to. In the end, she had just as much a hand in their people as her twin sister did.

  He stared at the altar, pondering what he was going to ask for from the goddess. Victory was too much. The larger the request, the larger the payment. He had learned that lesson from Varon, who had dealt closely with this sort of offering before. He wouldn’t test the priest’s wisdom on the manner.

  He couldn’t ask to survive, for it was just as dangerous a request as victory. Who would die in his place if he was meant to die? He couldn’t tolerate the idea of Mave or Matesh or any Andinna dying for him.

  Help. He could ask for help. However the goddess decided to answer was her own business. He would take the smallest handout from her if she decided to answer his prayers.

  With resolve, he walked to the altar, ignoring the flickering shadows of the temple around him. He pulled out a rag and wiped down the bowl and marble altar, cleaning away the dust, doing his best to purify the sacred ground he stood on. Legend had it that temples were built where the dragons themselves once roosted. That made them precious, and he felt the need to do his part in keeping them maintained, even after so long.

  Once it was clean, he knew the ritual, buried deep in his memories, also learned from his grandmother if the time ever came when he felt the need to pray.

  There was only one gift their gods truly wanted when official prayers were made. He pulled a dagger from its sheath on his hip and lifted his left hand.

  “Kristanya, giver of wings and leader of war, hear me,” he recited, his voice echoing off the mountain stone and marble around him. “Kristanya, bringer of death and master of shadows, hear me.” He sliced a thin line on his palm and squeezed his hand shut, forcing blood to pour from the wound into the bowl. “Kristanya, your warrior needs you. Hear me.”

  He continued to squeeze the wound and closed his eyes, bowing his head. If she heard him, his head would be lowered in respect for the dominant female, the dominant being. He could only hope her eyes were turned in his direction.

  “I ask, for all the Andinna, help in the coming days. Our King has decided to begin a rebellion against the corrupt forces of the Elvasi. We have just begun this quest, and I hope you will see fit to aid us in any regard.”

  A strong wind blew into the temple, knocking him forward, sending him into the altar. Winds so strong weren’t uncommon at the altitude of the temple, and he groaned as he realized his blood was no longer going into the bowl. He felt a certain annoyance as the wind blew out the fire, which he hadn’t properly sheltered.

  “Of course,” he grumbled. “One time I try to do somethin’ good and proper, everythin’ is ruined by the wind.” He sighed, looking down at his offering. In the end, it wasn’t much, but he hoped it was heard.

  He cleaned himself and wrapped a piece of cloth around his left hand before getting back to his fire and starting it again in a better location behind a pillar. For some reason, he didn’t want to go deeper into the temple. Generally, only the priests and priestesses saw beyond the main altar of a temple, and anyone else had to be invited.

  He didn’t want to push his luck and disturb those old laws, even if no one would ever know he broke them.

  Later, when the only light he had was the fire, he pulled out the leather book and began to write a small report, only relaying he was safe and had not yet run into any serious threats. He didn’t give a location, in case anyone was compromised. Mave and Matesh deserved to know he was okay. They all did, his friends and family in the Company.

  For the first time in weeks, he felt secure enough to try to sleep properly. He’d spent weeks now perched on cliffs, barely getting enough sleep to function properly, but in the temple, he felt like he was protected. There was no way Elvasi, humans, or even wild animals would come for him here.

  Much later, his eyes flew open as something came down at him. His fire was out, and his eyes weren’t adjusted, but there was no mistaking steel swinging in the dark. He tried to jump up, only to get grabbed from behind. The sword stopped, angled perfectly to slit his throat in a second.

  “Your name?” a gruff male voice asked. It was too dark for him to see anything about his attacker or the blade in front of him. All he had was the dark and the voice.

  “Brynec Lorren,” he answered quickly. “Who—” A hand slammed over his mouth, and the blade pressed against his neck, nicking the scar he had from centuries of wearing a collar that wasn’t the proper fit.

  “Lorren? There are no Lorrens left,” the voice snarled. “Take him. We’ll question him later at home.”

  “Wait—” He tried to talk through the hand. He tried to pull out of the hold on him but couldn’t get free in time to dodge the hilt that slammed down on the back of his head.

  3

  Mave

  They rode into their village to a reception that was more extravagant than deserved. Mave bit back a groan as those they had left behind treated them as if they had just defeated the Empire. She didn’t cheer with the others, feeling dissatisfied. It had been months since they attacked Ellantia, and all they had to show for it was two hundred free Andinna and the friends they had lost during said attacks. She didn’t let her own mood show, though. Her position meant she had to remain optimistic to the crowd, even if she didn’t feel it.

  There was one thing that kept her from being completely pessimistic.

  They were home. A new home, not the one she loved and lost back in Olost, but home, nonetheless.

  “Alchan!” she called out over the cheering. “Do you need me for anything today?” It was only midday. There was always a chance he would want her for some meeting by nightfall.

  “No! We’ll get back to it tomorrow, so enjoy the evening off.” He even smiled at her, but she saw the shadow in his eyes. They were both thinking the same thing.

  Months since they dramatically told those around them they wanted to start a rebellion, and they were finally getting something to show for it. Others might be impressed, but they had both expected more, faster. Fall was quickly ending, and the only thing any of the Andinna were worried about was surviving the coming winter. She couldn’t blame them, but she wanted more. Freeing Sen and the others was only the beginning. It wasn’t enough to warrant the welcome they were given.

  “Wait!” he called as she turned her horse. “I’m going to need you after dinner with Leshaun. Since we’re back, may as well debrief on Bryn. Bring Matesh.”

  “I’ll be there!” she yelled back, the crowd now starting to separate them. Any update about Bryn was something she looked forward to. She’d begged and pleaded, even tried to throw rank around to keep him from going on the scouting mission alone. In the end, she lost. Mat, even if he had his worries, was willing to trust Bryn to go on his own, respecting their rogue would come back to them. It was a male thing. Alchan and Luykas believed her rogue to be the best for the task and the most trustworthy with the information he would learn and have to pass along.

  She knew all of them were right, but she wanted him back.

  “Mave!” someone shouted. “Over here!”

  She turned her horse around in two circles, trying to find the source of the voice. She was still scanning the crowd when someone grabbed the reins of her mare and held it, stopping Mave’s spinning.

  “Here!” the voice said again, laughing. Mave looked around her mare’s head and grinned.

  “Damn it, Senri! I couldn’t see you in this crowd!”

  “Let me lead you and this girl out of this mess. There’s got to be a young male around somewhere who’s willing to handle her.”

  Mave relinquished control as Senri started walking, forcing her mare to follow calmly. The mare and all of their other horses, were stolen from Elvasi soldiers. They were trained well to handle the bu
stle of crowds and battlefields, but Mave wasn’t the most confident rider. She preferred flying, but that was impractical for a war group like the one she had been a part of for the last nearly five weeks.

  Once they were out of the crowd, Senri whistled. Mave saw a young male guard watching the commotion turn to them in a snap. Everyone knew Senri’s sharp whistle.

  “You! Guard! Take this mare for the King’s Champion and see she’s taken care of!”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  Mave dismounted as the guard ran to them. She didn’t recognize him, giving him what must have been a strange look as he blushed in return.

  “I got here three weeks ago. I’m from the—” His warm eyes were a red-brown, bright and honest, and much too eager and excited for her. His black hair was cut short, but not short enough to stop it from falling over his eyes in a boyish way that screamed innocent.

  “Ah, a new face. I figured. Welcome.” She smiled but didn’t give him the chance to tell her his name. She had too many names to remember as it was and didn’t need a dozen more with every new group coming into the village. “We freed you at one of the farms. I hope you’re well. Now, Senri and I have much to discuss. Have a wonderful day.”

  “T-thank you, Champion,” he stuttered, bowing his head low.

  Senri grabbed her and began dragging her along. With no fight in her, Mave followed, sighing heavily.

  “I’m so awkward,” she declared as they left the crowd behind.

  “Platitudes don’t suit you,” Senri said, a forgiving note to the words. “You don’t do well with the attention. His name is Rydec, by the way. He’s three hundred and grew up in slavery, hearing the whispers across the Empire about what you could do in the Colosseum. Since we’ve arrived here, he and several other young males have talked nonstop about seeing you when you freed them last month. All born and raised on Elvasi farms. They talk about Alchan and Luykas, too, but they always thought you were more real than the Ivory Shadows.”

  “How many?” Mave asked softly. “How many of them have never been free a day in their lives?”

  “Over half,” Senri answered, shaking her head. “Apparently, young Andinna who have never known freedom are safer to keep on the farms because they don’t really know where to go or who to ask for help if they want to escape. If they were all over a thousand, they would know the taste of freedom and how to fight. It would be easy to escape. Many of them have been tending fields since they could walk and were trained young to fear the lash of a whip. At a young age—”

  “A whip can severely damage your wings,” she finished for her friend, cutting off Senri. “It’s a strong repellant to the thought of flying away. There are repercussions to trying beyond that, too.”

  Senri nodded. “If they were caught flying without permission or out of bounds, they were shot from the sky by the farm’s human archers. Then they were bound as punishment,” Senri explained further. “Convincing them they can fly here has been an ongoing process. Most, if not all, need exercise and practice. None of them were permanently bound like you or Brynec, but none of them could fly on a regular basis, either.”

  “Did you report all of this to Luykas?”

  “Of course, and he’ll report it all to Alchan the moment they sit down and get the chance.”

  “Then why are you telling me? In the end, I’m just another warrior with a special title to make sure there’s respect being shown to the females. I don’t handle logistics. That’s Alchan and Luykas.”

  “This is as much your rebellion as it is Alchan’s. Figured you needed to know more about those you’ve saved so far.”

  “You think I don’t know?” she demanded. Something about her friend’s words struck a nerve, giving Mave a nasty rush of red-hot temper. “Shit, Senri, I grew up in slavery just like them. I met farm boys when they came to the pits, strong bodied from days of hard labor but fresh and innocent in their own ways as if slavery hadn’t been so hard on them. Fucked a couple of them. Saw most of them die. Those who didn’t grew hard and cold as the older males, the trained warriors, who beat on them and taught them their place. They were fed stories about how their lives were terrible because of me, and eventually, they were just another gladiator I had to watch my back around.”

  She was breathing hard at the end of her rant. Rydec, for all his youthful, nervous stuttering, would have been one of those males. In a different life, she would have been intrigued and maybe needed to scratch an itch.

  A life she left behind just over a year ago.

  “Fuck. Sorry. I think I’m tired from the road.” She rubbed her temples, trying to forget the images running through her mind. Flashes of faces of young men who were kind to her for a moment until the others convinced them it was bad for their health. Centuries of it, seeing a one-night fling get killed for being with her. Another being beaten because he dared to be kind to her, not understanding the way the pits worked. A relentless cycle that was only broken when two dangerous warriors, better than the rest, walked in and refused to leave her alone because they were also ‘owned’ by Shadra.

  “I didn’t think. This is all new to me, hearing some of their stories. You’ve heard them all before.”

  Mave could only nod, trying to banish faces from her mind. So many hopeful warriors, young males who showed real promise, lost to the dirty politics and quiet war waged in the pits—her against all of them.

  “Why don’t you come check on the things I know you’ll want to see, then head off for a hot meal at the dining hall? Or you can come with me, and I’ll get Kian to cook you dinner.” Senri’s hand was gentle on her shoulder, pulling her to keep walking. “You’ve been on the hard road for a long time.”

  “I have been. Sorry for the outburst, Senri. Truly.” Mave wrapped an arm around her friend’s waist, and Senri moved her arm over Mave’s shoulders. Together, they walked in tandem, enjoying the friendly contact again. “How’re you and your males? How’s Kian?”

  “He’s less overprotective every day,” Senri answered. “I knew he would get over himself fast. Willem and Gentrin are wonderful, perfect husbands, as always. May they continue to set a good example for my warrior.” Senri chuckled. Mave knew her friend loved all three of her husbands, and they were all equal in her eyes, but the teasing relationship between Senri and Kian was unique to them. “How’re you and Matesh? What’s the news on Bryn?”

  “Matesh is great. He’s been my backbone since Bryn has been gone.” Mave sighed. “Alchan promised to tell me more about where Bryn is tonight, once everyone has settled down. I bothered him enough that I was banned from asking until we made it back to the safety of the village. Can you believe that? He asked me to meet him after dinner so I could finally know what was going on with my husband!”

  “Yes. I know you. If anything was happening to Bryn, and he needed you, you would have thrown aside all the work the war group was doing to save him. Alchan probably didn’t want you to worry, and you know he would have told you if something terrible happened to Brynec.” Senri squeezed her shoulders. “So, you have nothing to do until after dinner…perfect! You have to come see the females, including the new ones. I’m not going to put them on guard duty until I get your approval of their skills, and Allaina agrees with me. Then Kian and I can feed you and Matesh—”

  “And Zayden. Poor man is going to starve now that Rain is too busy for him,” Mave added. She wasn’t comfortable with him eating alone. Again. In a direct parallel to the situation Rain had once found her in, Matesh found Zayden eating alone one night. Now, the tables were turned, and he ate with her family.

  “Fine. Zayden too. Then you can go harass Alchan about Bryn, and everything will be fine.”

  “It will be,” Mave agreed, only half believing the words. “Let’s go see how the females have improved.” She gestured for Senri to start walking, and together, they wandered out of the village.

  Down the path, they took flight into the open air. It was risky to jump into the air in the village.
There were many Andinna, and everyone was trying to get somewhere quickly, leading to an increase in collisions. The rule of thumb was to take off outside or in a quiet area of the village and let others land in the busy areas if they needed to be somewhere.

  Mave spun in the open sky, enjoying the ability to fly freely again. South of the Dragon Spine flying wasn’t safe, and they only did so in emergencies. Once in the mountains, there were no rules about taking to the sky once the area was cleared of potential Elvasi spies in the nearby hills. Thanks to Senri’s dedication to the protection of their home base, everyone knew it was safe to fly at the village.

  They passed over a large river, and Mave looked down to see the training field she had claimed for the females. She didn’t want them to train in the village, keeping them out of the prying eyes of males and away from any potential distractions. She circled once, taking in the exercise they were doing, sparring in groups of four, three on one. When Allaina rang the bell, they rotated, and one of the three became the lone warrior. It was effective training for Andinna since they were so often outnumbered.

  She landed away from the training, out of the way, so she didn’t disturb them. Watching the fast, smooth movements of many of the females, she was glad to see the long days of training were paying off.

  “Some have complained they have things they need to do in the village, and we need to cut their training time down,” Senri said softly. “What do you think?”

  “I think if they want a day off, they need to be able to draw blood on me to prove they’ve learned what I can teach them,” Mave answered, cocking her head to the side. Some of the females weren’t smooth, and one even screamed and dropped her weapon when she was hit in the thigh. It would have been a nasty cut with real steel but would only bruise with wood.