by Dele Daniel
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, wondering why he was even bothering to speak to these guards. But then it occurred to me that he was probably trying to keep their attention off Zane, especially considering that Zane wasn’t doing a very good job in being inconspicuous about the bag he was clutching.
Remington needed to keep their attention off me too, for that matter. After all, I’d had to kill that guard because he had recognized me; by no means did I want to risk being identified for a second time in the same night.
“Can we help you with anything?” Remington said, attempting to keep the guards’ focus on him.
One of them smirked, although the look of it was far more sinister than friendly. “Where do you three think you’re going at this time of night?” he asked, dismounting his horse.
“We were just coming from hunting, that’s all,” Remington said. His voice was still calm on the surface, but I knew him well enough to detect the slight nervousness that had crept into it. “We’re on our way back home now. So if you’ll excuse us, we’ll just get going. Like you said, it’s pretty late. We don’t want to risk stumbling across anyone from other tribes and all, you know, considering the king’s new travel ban.”
Remington was rambling, and it didn’t take me long to understand why. The other guard was staring far too attentively at Zane—or at the bag he was holding, more accurately.
“Good day to you, gentleman,” Remington said, and then he gave Onyx a kick to the sides.
The guard who’d been staring at Zane quickly maneuvered his horse to block Remington’s path. Onyx neighed, frightened.
“Hold on,” the guard said, glaring at Remington. “What’s in your friend’s bag?” He slowly turned his gaze back to Zane. The guard who had dismounted his horse turned around to face Zane as well, noticing the bag for the first time.
“It’s just the game we caught,” Zane said. But he couldn’t even utter the lie in a convincing fashion; anyone could tell that bag most definitely did not contain any game. It was too noticeably absent of the telltale animal-carcass scent, not to mention the bloodstains that would have inevitably seeped through after recent kills.
I closed my eyes for a second in disbelief.
This was not happening. Our good luck couldn’t be over so quickly. It just couldn’t.
Think, think, I chanted to myself, desperately trying to come up with a way out of our predicament. I stared at the side of Zane’s head as if I could telepathically tell him to not let the guards look into the bag, no matter what.
“That doesn’t look like no game to me,” the guard on foot said, approaching Zane. “Matter of fact, that bag looks awfully familiar, doesn’t it?” he added to his partner.
“Yeah, it does,” the other guard said. In a quick gesture, he leapt down from his horse, and not before long, both guards were standing on either side of Zane.
“Climb down and hand it over,” the first guard demanded, moving closer to Zane and making his horse visibly nervous.
At the guard’s belt, I noticed that he carried a gun of his own. I looked toward Remington, wondering if he had noticed. I couldn’t tell though; Remington’s expression was too blank, which let me know that he, too, was frantically trying to figure out an escape plan.
But as Zane swallowed and dismounted his horse, keeping a careful grip on the bag, things didn’t look good for us.
My heart began to race faster, as I was all too aware that this could very well be the end for us. We’d come this far, only to get captured and killed by a couple of nosy guards right at the last minute.
We’d failed the Hawks. We’d failed the rebellion. I’d failed my brother.
“It’s nothing, guys, really,” Zane said, trying to sound nonchalant despite the way he clutched the bag for dear life.
“Oh yeah?” said the guard closest to him, the one with a gun of his own. “Well, if that’s the case, you’ll have no problem handing it over. Let us see what kind of game you scored tonight.”
Zane cast a glance at me, and then to Remington. Seeing no way out, he held up the bag, his hand trembling. I held my breath, prepared for things to immediately go from bad to worst.
What I didn’t expect at all was for Zane to suddenly kick the guard in front of him. It happened so fast that I had a hard time processing it. The guard cried out in pain and surprise as Zane’s heavy foot landed right at his hip. Something thumped on the ground, and Zane kicked at it, screaming, “TAKE IT, GENESIS! TAKE THE GUN!”
I blinked in disbelief, and then it finally dawned on me what had happened. Zane had knocked the guard’s gun off his hip and then kicked it in my direction.
The horses around us neighed, pawing the ground and rearing onto their hind legs. And perhaps noticing my delayed reaction, Remington sprung into action instead, attempting to get the gun himself. But before he could reach it, the other guard seized him. “Don’t you move!” the guard yelled as he pulled out a knife on Remington.
My heart stuttered.
All the while, Zane still yelled at me as the other guard began to tackle him. The two of them fell to the ground, exchanging kicks and punches.
Adrenaline coursing through me, I finally went for the gun. It glistened on the ground in the faint moonlight seeping between the trees. I retrieved it right before Zane’s horse nearly stepped on both it and my hand.
Trembling, I clutched the cold metal, hoping I could figure out what to do with it. Was it really as simple as pulling the trigger? I stared down at it, confused, listening to the sounds of the escalating tussles around me. I looked up to see the guard on top of Zane, punching him as he struggled to get from underneath him. As for Remington, he was wrestling with the other guard, grunting and panting as he attempted to get the knife out of his hand while simultaneously trying to avoid being stabbed by it.
I turned the gun around in my hands, my fingers desperately searching for a way to fire it, although I still wasn’t sure of my target. Did I actually want to shoot the guards, or just fire into the sky to scare them away?
But what good was trying to scare them? If we managed to scare them just long enough to make an escape, they would only come after us later to seek their revenge. And then Remington and Zane would become wanted criminals, just like me. It also didn’t help that Zane had such distinguishing features, given the scar that ran down his face; he would have to seriously go into hiding if we made it out of this.
My blood turned cold when I heard Remington’s yell ring through the air. Yet, when my eyes landed on him, I breathed a sigh of relief, seeing that he had managed to get the upper hand. He had knocked the guard fighting him to the ground and quickly overpowered him.
But then, something went terribly wrong.
Remington’s cry, which had momentarily been one of victory, turned into one of pain. He clenched his teeth and stumbled off to the side. Catching a glimpse of the ground below him, I saw something thick and black spilling to the soil. Had it been daylight, I knew the black liquid would have revealed itself to really be red . . .
Blood. Remington’s blood.
The knife glistened in the guard’s hand, letting me know that he had stabbed Remington. I felt my own blood draining from my face as my eyes frantically searched Remington, trying to see where the knife had pierced him, hoping and praying to the gods that it wasn’t in a fatal spot.
I couldn’t lose Remington too.
I’d experienced my fair share of fear lately, but nothing could have prepared me for the utter terror I felt when the guard positioned himself over Remington, knife in hand, determined to finish him off. The guard fixed Remington with a deranged sneer, spit on him, and then held the knife high, ready to bring it down right over Remington’s chest.
I tossed the gun in my hand to the ground, my body instinctively reacting with a mind of its own as it reached for my bow and arrow. Fury and panic coursed through my veins at once and my hands moved with a quickness I would have never been able to achieve if I’d bee
n thinking clearly. In a flash, my arrow was sent soaring through the air, meeting the guard square in the back. He gasped and the knife fell from his hand, with Remington rolling out of harm’s way just in the nick of time—the knife landed on the ground precisely where his abdomen would have been. The guard fell dead on top of it, the arrow protruding from his back and the knife disappearing under him.
Beside him, Remington grimaced, gripping his leg. He’d been stabbed in the leg.
I let out a sigh of relief that was extremely short-lived once I realized that a leg wound wasn’t exactly harmless; it all depended on where he’d been stabbed in the leg. If it was a major artery, we were in trouble. Plus, losing too much blood from anywhere was a cause for concern, especially with the lack of help and the long journey we had before us.
I rushed over to him.
“It’s okay,” he panted, still gripping his leg as I knelt down to him. “It’s just a scratch, really . . .”
I stared down, seeing that he’d been stabbed on the thigh. And though the blood pouring from the wound certainly looked frightening, the flow was already slowing down. Confident that he was going to be okay, I turned my gaze to Zane. He had managed to pin the other guard to the ground beneath him. Both of them had clearly gotten several good hits on each other, but Zane had overpowered the guard. He struggled beneath him, trying to free himself from Zane’s heavy clutch.
I stood while Remington struggled to climb to his feet. “Hold on,” I said to him. “I got this.”
I approached Zane and the guard, thoughts spinning in my head.
“Hurry, Genesis,” Zane said, quickly running out of breath as he held the guard in place. “Genesis, eh?” the guard said over a swollen lip. “I know some people who would be
very interested in your whereabouts. Oh, you guys are going—”
But his words were cut short when Zane punched him in the mouth. He then looked toward me again, his expression both eager and frustrated, wanting me to put an end to the guard already.
“Well, give me the knife then,” Zane said when I didn’t react quickly enough, nodding toward the weapon the other guard had used on Remington.
But I shook my head, looking from Zane and then back to Remington. “We can’t kill him,” I said. My words were met with stunned silence, even from the guard. “We’re going to make him show us how to use those guns.”
CHAPTER 14
Accepting that there were three against one, not to mention that we were armed while he wasn’t, the guard had no choice but to surrender to us. We tied him with ropes Remington had packed, and draped him over his own horse, tying the reins to Zane’s horse.
“What to do with the other?” I said, nodding to the dead guard’s horse. Zane’s jaw clenched.
“There’s nothing we can do,” Remington said, shrugging his shoulders but grimacing all the same. “We can’t steal a royal guard’s horse. Someone will find them. And we preferably better not still be in the area when they do. It’s not going to look good for us if we’re connected to a trail of dead guards.”
Knowing Remington was right, we left the other horse standing beside his dead owner and began our journey back to my father’s safehouse.
***
It took us two days, but we finally made it. Not wanting to run into more trouble, we had opted to take the long route back, going through little-known forest paths to avoid being seen.
Reaching my father’s safehouse, we were tired and hungry but grateful to have gotten back, which made everything we’d dealt with along the way feel worth it.
Several Hawk members outside serving as lookouts spotted us approaching. They stood and stared, their expressions hovering between relief and confusion as they noticed the unexpected guest and extra horse returning with us.
Not before long, my parents and Prince were there, rushing toward us.
“Oh my gods,” Mother said, holding her hand out and helping me dismount Dolly. “I was so worried.” She threw her arms around me in a hug. Over her shoulder, I saw Father staring at Remington, looking relieved but also full of questions. Prince stood beside him, his expression rather unreadable. I stared back at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking, but my concentration was broken when Remington spoke.
“We had to take the long way back to avoid getting caught,” Remington explained, looking at my father. Remington then held his mouth open for a second, and I knew he was contemplating whether or not to disclose the problems we’d run into, or the fact that I’d led him and Zane off without initially having a real plan.
I stiffened in Mother’s arms, wondering if Remington would really sell me out like that. But before he could say anything else, Father clasped Remington’s hand firmly, looking him right in the eyes. “No worries,” he said. “You brought my daughter back just like I asked you to. That’s all that matters.”
Remington closed his mouth and nodded.
“Who is this?”
“What’s going on?”
“Is that a guard—a royal guard?”
Mother released me and I saw just how many Hawk members had begun to surround us. They all stared at Zane, watching as he pulled the guard off his horse. The guard looked disgusted but said nothing.
“We have good news,” Remington said, glancing around. “But let’s go inside to discuss it, though. Another meeting is in order. We’ll tell you everything.”
“You guys need food and rest first,” Mother interjected. “Come inside, sit down for a while, and have something to eat. Then we can have a meeting.”
“Yes,” Father agreed. He looked around at the surrounding Hawks. “Spread word that we’re gathering for a meeting in about an hour.”
Almost exactly an hour later, the guard’s horse had been put in the stable, the guard had been securely locked up with Hawks stationed around him, and Remington, Zane, and I had been fed and permitted time to rest for a while. After all of that, the meeting was called into session.
Once again, my father’s modest abode was filled to capacity as eager Hawk members waited to hear the news and learn of our next steps.
“Thank you for coming out again after such short notice,” Remington said to the room at large. “I know we’ve been gone for longer than expected, so I’ll spare you any more suspense and get straight to letting you all know what’s going on. Zane, Genesis, and I . . . well, we decided to take advantage of the guards in Black Forest instead of going all the way to King’s Port to meet up with Genesis’s Kingfisher friend.” He glanced sideways at me. I gave him a curt nod, thanking him for not shaming me like he could have. Quickly averting my gaze, I looked toward Prince. He listened silently, a stern look on his face as he stared at Remington. I swallowed, still feeling slightly guilty but also not regretting my actions if it meant sparing my little brother humiliation.
Light muttering had started to break out through the crowd. Remington cleared his throat, recapturing everyone’s attention and continuing. “No big deal,” he said. “The journey all the way to King’s Port would have been too long and too risky, especially considering the current state of things. Genesis agreed.”
“Right,” I said, feeling the need to speak up for myself. “We ran across a guard and decided to bring him back with us. You see, we ran into a group of guards and managed to secure a bag of guns from them. The guard is going to show us how to use Beam-41ks. Once we’re able to use these guns—let’s just say the rebellion will be taken up a notch. So we should unite with more Rowans who are interested in rebelling against King Henry with us, especially since they could help smuggle more weapons across the rivers.” I paused for a moment, taking in the reactions before me and pleased to see that a lot of people were nodding, liking the sound of what I’d said.
Remington gave me a nod of approval, and I smiled slightly in appreciation.
A thought coming to me, I scanned the crowd for a familiar face. Sentana’s, to be exact. “Where’s Sentana?” I asked out loud when I couldn’t find her
. “She might be able to find more Rowans interested in joining our cause. Has anyone seen her lately?”
The room fell uncomfortably silent, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Something was wrong, I could sense it. I looked toward Remington again, wondering if he had any idea what was wrong, but he looked just as caught off guard by the room’s sudden shift in the mood as I did.
“Sentana’s in the prison room.”
My eyes bulged at the sound of Father’s voice answering my question. “The prison room? What does that even mean? What prison room?” For a moment, I thought about where the guard was being held, wondering why on earth Sentana would be held there.
“I ordered her to be locked up.”
The silence in the room grew impossibly stronger. Slowly, I turned my head toward my little brother. I blinked. “To be locked up? Why would you do that?”
Prince clenched his jaw and stood to his full height. But it was yet another voice that responded.
“Because he is the chief! He can do whatever he wants!”
I turned again, although I already knew who I would find glaring at me this time. Leni.
I closed my eyes for a second and shook my head in disbelief. I then rounded toward my parents, who stood together, shooting grim expressions in Leni’s direction.
“Can someone please tell me what’s going on? What is all of this?” I said.
Father pressed his lips into a straight line and took a deep breath. “The new Right Hand of the Chief believes other tribes can no longer be trusted,” he said. “So Rowans and Ammirians are not allowed to be part of the Hawks anymore. All old members not of our tribe have been stripped of their memberships. From now on, no one outside of the Arnazuri tribe can be recruited for Hawk membership.”
I stared at Father, dumbfounded and trying to make sense of what I was hearing. I didn’t even feel capable of articulating all the questions suddenly springing into my head.
“Right Hand of the Chief? And what exactly is that?” Remington asked, giving voice to at least one of the inquiries dashing through my mind.
