Fawks (Dragons of Kratak Book 4)

by Ruth Anne Scott

  I was alone with Yurat in his office in the main building. Hatare was off somewhere with Manyr – a situation I knew Yurat had set up to give us some time alone to talk. Man to man. I had a feeling he was going to press me hard to join the rebellion.

  “Ever had Gort?” he asked me.

  “Once or twice.”

  He nodded as he poured us each about a quarter of the glass and raised it to me. I picked mine up and returned the toast, then each of us drank down the liquid. I wasn't overly fond of the stuff, and it hit me the same way every time – with a feeling like fire sliding down my throat just before a solid punch to the gut.

  With our glasses empty, Yurat refilled them. I picked mine up, but held it in my hands, not ready to down another one just yet. I didn't know why, but I felt like I needed to keep my wits about me.

  We'd been in Yurat's encampment for about a week. We'd talked to more people than I could remember – and all of them had been beyond excited to meet Hatare and I. Yurat and Manyr hadn't been kidding when they'd said we were celebrated within the rebellion – treated like conquering heroes. And yet, what had we conquered? What had we done to deserve such a warm and heroic reception?

  Nothing. We'd done nothing at all but run and hide as we tried to survive.

  It was for that reason – among many others – that I was so uncomfortable with all of the attention and praise we'd received since coming to Yurat's encampment. We didn't deserve it and to me, it felt really far over the top. So over the top that it bordered on the insincere – and almost like manipulation in a way.

  “So, what is it that's holding you back, Byr?”

  I shrugged. “Just not sure this is what I want,” I said. “I'm not much of a soldier.”

  Yurat looked at me. “Lot of us felt that way at first,” he replied. “Some of them have become my most trusted and valuable fighters.”

  “That's great for them,” I said. “I'm just not sure I have it in me.”

  “You might surprise yourself with what you find inside of you,” Yurat said as he took a sip of his drink.

  I stared down at the glass in my hand, watching the dark blue liquid as I swirled it around. Yurat poured himself another one before looking at my still-full glass and frowning.

  “Know what I did before I joined the rebellion?” he asked. “I was a farmer. I grew crops – or at least, tried to. There isn't much that grows out on the fringes, as I'm sure you know. And what I did manage to grow, the Ministry took half. My duty to help Unduthian society, they called it.”

  “That's terrible, Yurat,” I said. “And a story that's all too common on the fringes.”

  He nodded. “That it is, son,” he said. “And that's part of the problem, don't you see? This government thinks they can do whatever it is they want to us and then expect us to just lie down and take it.”

  I nodded. I agreed with what he was saying. Which, was part of the problem. I had absolutely no love for the Unduthian government. I thought they were oppressive, cruel, and downright evil. At least, to those of us not fortunate enough to be born into the right family.

  “I can see that you're afraid – ” Yurat began.

  “I'm not afraid to fight,” I said.

  “No, I didn't think that, son,” he said. “I can see there is a fire in your spirit. And I know you feel about the Ministry the same way we do. But I can see that something is holding you back. If I had to guess, I'm thinking it's Hatare.”

  “That's not true. Why would you say that?” I sounded a little too defensive, even to my own ears.

  His smile was gentle and kind. “Because a lot of us have gone through the same thing. Have felt exactly how you're feeling right now,” he said softly.

  “I doubt that.”

  Yurat looked at me evenly. “I had a wife,” he said. “Her name was Antul. Beautiful woman. We grew up together, knew each other all our lives. She was the only woman I've ever loved.”

  “What happened to her?”

  A shadow crossed over Yurat's face and I could see that he was holding his anger in check – though it appeared to be taking a tremendous effort on his part.

  “Ministry soldiers killed her,” he said. “Shot her right in front of me when I'd finally had enough and refused to let them take my crops.”

  A profound silence settled over the office as we both stared into our glasses. I didn't know what to say to that. But then, there didn't seem to be anything I could say. It did however, highlight the exact reason I wasn't running to join the fight –that was the last thing I wanted to see happen to Hatare. If she were to be killed because of my actions – or inactions – I didn't know how I was going to live with myself.

  “I chose to fight because of Antul,” he said. “Because I don't want anybody else enduring what I had to endure.”

  I shook my head. “I don't want anything happening to her.”

  “Of course you don't,” he said. “I can see that the two of you care about each other a lot. But ask yourself this – what kind of a world do you want to live in? And maybe more importantly, what kind of a life can you two have together if nothing ever changes here?”

  I didn't say a word and merely stared down into my glass. I didn't want to share what was going through my mind with him. But when I glanced up and saw the way he was looking at me, I had a feeling he already knew.

  “Unless of course, you were thinking of building a life with her somewhere other than Unduth,” he said.

  “Could you blame us?”

  “No, not at all,” he said. “Though, I won't lie and tell you that I wouldn't be a little bit disappointed.”

  “Disappointed?”

  Yurat nodded. “That you could turn your back on your people like that,” he said. “When your people need you the most.”

  I had no answer to that and so, I remained silent and simply stared down into the glass of liquor I was never going to drink.

  Chapter Three

  Hatare

  I walked through the encampment with Manyr, talking to people and receiving plenty of adoration – adoration I did not want or feel comfortable receiving. I knew what she and Yurat were up to. By splitting up Byr and me, it gave them each time alone with us to work on us about joining their rebellion.

  I wasn't sure if Manyr thought that having people heaping praise on me was going to win me over, but if that's what she thought, she was going to be in for a rude awakening.

  To her credit though, she didn't push her agenda or politics on me. In fact, we spent most of the afternoon just getting to know more about one another. She asked me all about my life in Kinray, wanting to know what it was like growing up as the daughter of one of the most powerful men on the planet. Having grown up on the fringes, she couldn't conceive of the world I'd grown up in – the world she now wanted to burn to the ground.

  Truth be told, she and I shared a vision about that – wanting to see Unduthian society shattered into a million little pieces.

  “So, this Academy,” she started, “they train you to be a wife?”

  We stopped beside a small stream that ran alongside the camp and sat down, enjoying a pleasantly cool afternoon. All around us, birdsong filled the air, as did the smell of cookfires burning within the encampment.

  “They train you to be a proper Unduthian woman,” I said. “Who is then fit to be the wife of a prominent man in society.”

  “That sounds – ”

  “Like a fate worse than death.” I finished for her.

  Manyr laughed and nodded. “Yes, that it does,” she said and then grew serious again. “Would you have really killed yourself?”

  “That was my plan,” I said quietly. “I didn't feel I had any other way out.”

  “So, what stopped you?”

  I gave her a soft smile. “A – friend of mine. She worked in our household, but she was always a friend to me,” I said. “She convinced me that taking my own life wasn't the way and that I should run. Run far away.”

  Manyr remaine
d silent a moment, trailing her fingertips in the cool water of the stream. Despite my earlier insecurities and petty jealousies, I was starting to grow quite fond of Manyr. I no longer thought she was trying to steal Byr from me. I just thought that she was a true believer in the cause she was fighting for and recognized him for the asset to that cause that he was. I could definitely see in her eyes that she was willing to do whatever it took to convince him to join them.

  Not that I could blame her for that. Byr was a big, strong man – and was highly intelligent. I had no doubts that he could be a real leader of their rebellion – and knew that people would follow him. Though he could be a little quiet at times, he was a compelling man. He had a forceful presence about him – a presence I didn't even think he realized he had.

  But as a person – and not the recruiter for the rebellion – I really liked Manyr.

  “Well, I think that for both you and Byr, your friend helped you make a wise decision,” she said. “After all, it allowed the both of you to find each other.”

  I nodded. “Yes, and for that I am thankful,” I said. “I never expected to find somebody I cared about, but – ”

  “Life has a strange way of intervening,” she said. “And helping us to see and find those things we might have otherwise missed out on.”

  “Absolutely,” I said. “What about you? Is there somebody in your life?”

  A look of profound sadness crossed her face – it was like a cloud covering the sun. She looked at me with eyes shimmering with tears she was refusing to let fall and her eye markings glowed faintly. She scrubbed at her eyes, wiping away the tears and clenched her jaw as she tried to compose herself.

  “His name was Puyt,” she said. “He lived a couple of villages over and I met him in the marketplace one day. He was a beautiful boy. Big, strong – in a lot of ways, Byr reminds me of him. I think that's why I had such a strong reaction when we met – and I apologize if it seemed like I was throwing myself at him or something. That was never my intent.”

  I reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She looked at me as a lone tear rolled down her cheek.

  “Anyway,” she said. “He and I joined this unit together. When we were younger, we talked a lot about helping build a better world and decided to do something about it. We were out on a raid together about a year ago now. The intel we had was bad and we walked into a trap. Gravus and his men were there waiting for us. Twenty of us went in and only three of us got out.”

  “Oh, Manyr,” I squeeze her hand tighter. “I'm so sorry.”

  Her smile was grim and rueful. “I remember seeing it happen like it was only yesterday,” she said. “We were in full retreat. We'd just gotten back to the transports and Puyt lifted me in – practically picked me up and threw me, actually. And when he grabbed on to the rail to climb in, I saw him take three shots to the back.”

  She sniffed loudly and didn't even bother trying to check the tears that were rolling down her face. I put my other hand on top of hers and held it there, trying to bring her some sense of comfort – an empty gesture, I was sure.

  “His eyes were on mine the whole time,” she said. “He hung on to that rail and I reached out to grab his hand. To try and pull him aboard. Two more shots hit him in the back and that was it. He fell off the back of the transport and we took off. That was the last time I saw him.”

  I wanted to pull her into an embrace, but hesitated. Though I was starting to really like her, the truth was, we still barely knew each other and I didn't know how she'd react. I didn't want to overstep my bounds – it was the Unduthian training still etched into my brain. I settled for tightening my grip on her hand, just to let her know she wasn't alone.

  “I can't even imagine how horrible that must have been for you,” I said softly. “I'm so sorry, Manyr. I truly am.”

  She looked at me and gave me a grim little smile – a smile that didn't come close to reaching her eyes.

  “It's not your fault,” she said. “I think, if there is any silver lining to be found, it's that after Puyt's death, I became a better soldier. A better fighter. It didn't take me long to go from foot soldier to where I am now – one of Yurat's lieutenants. But there isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish for Puyt to come back to me – even if I am never anything more than one of Yurat's trigger pullers. Of course, if I'm being really honest, there are days I wish Puyt and I had simply moved away somewhere together and started our lives together – somewhere there wasn't an armed civil war in progress.”

  I looked down and a small smile touched the corners of my mouth. I knew exactly how she was feeling. There were times I wished that Byr and I would simply go somewhere we could start a new life together. Somewhere far away from class warfare, strict cultural norms, and of course, the presence of a rebellion trying to overthrow the government.

  Somewhere we could just be free together and be free to love each other.

  “It's why I fight,” she said softly. “I don't want anybody to ever have to feel like I feel.”

  I understood exactly what she meant – and felt exactly the same way. I just didn't know that I could do what she was doing. I knew how to defend myself thanks to plenty of lessons – lessons I should never have had thanks to those rigid Unduthian societal rules – but I didn't consider myself to be much of a fighter.

  She scrubbed at her face with her hands, trying to wipe away the tears. “Anyway,” she said, “that's in the past. I need to keep my focus in a forward facing direction. Always forward.”

  That sounded like something straight out of Yurat’s playbook. And in thinking of Yurat, my mind immediately went to Byr. I wondered how he was doing – and how he was holding up under the pressure I knew Yurat was exerting on him to join. I knew that Byr already had plenty of sympathies with the rebels – who wouldn't, having endured what he had. Would Yurat find that piece of leverage he needed to pull Byr to their side?

  And if he did decide to throw in with the rebels, what would that mean for us? Would he expect me to join him? Would he insist that I stay away from the fighting? Was becoming a part of their fight something I wanted?

  I wanted Unduth to be a better place for all of us – regardless of what family we were born into. But I knew a war was going to kill a lot of people. They always did. I wanted Unduth to be a different, better place for everybody. I just wasn't sure what the right path to get there was.

  But I also wanted a life with Byr. A chance to build something special. Maybe one day, even a family. I'd come to care about him very deeply and I worried that if we decided to go to war with the rebels, one – or both – of us might not come out of it alive. That small, selfish part of me wanted to grab Byr and go somewhere far away – to another planet entirely, and build our life together.

  I'd never felt more conflicted about anything in my life.

  Chapter Four

  We sat together beside the stream for quite a while as Manyr gathered herself. When she finally felt composed enough, we got to our feet and walked back toward the encampment. By the time we got into camp, Manyr seemed more like herself again. She was a tough, strong woman and I had to believe that emotional outbursts like the one I'd witnessed were rare for her.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  She nodded. “I'm fine,” she said. “Thank you for asking.”

  And that was it – with those few words, she'd made it clear that she didn't want to speak about it again. Perhaps, it was that she was viewed as a leader within the rebellion and didn't want others to see her crying or upset about something. It was an impulse I could understand – there were more than a few times I'd had to stuff down everything I was feeling. That wasn't how a “proper” Unduthian lady behaved. A “proper” Unduthian lady bore her emotions with a stoic grace and never let others see them distraught or otherwise upset.

  Which wasn't the healthiest way to go about things.

  “So tell me,” I said. “When this grand rebellion of yours succeeds and the Ministry
falls, what then? What will you do?”

  She looked at me, her expression serious. “We will give the power back to the people,” she said. “Where it should have always been.”

  “And how will you do that?”

  “By electing a truly representative government,” she said. “Drawn from the people, who will work on behalf of the people to ensure that we all prosper. We will do away with things like the Academy – because no young woman should ever have to endure something as terrible as that. The people will be free to build their own lives in the manner of their choosing – not because of the family they happened to be born into.”

  It was a little speech that really spoke to me. Really tugged at my heart. I agreed with the goals of the rebellion – I just wasn't sure how I felt about the methods they were using to achieve them. Terrorism? Bombing government buildings and possibly killing innocent people? I didn't know that I could ever be on board with that.

  “Do you really believe it's possible?” I asked. “That we can have a government that truly does work on behalf of the people?”

  “I wouldn't be fighting this war if I didn't believe that, Hatare,” she said.

  A young girl ran up to us and threw her arms around Manyr. She couldn't have been much older than Pysh and in some ways, reminded me of my little sister. The girl had long white hair shot through with streaks of light blue, a pale blue skin tone, and dark eye markings. She was a pretty girl and had that air of innocence, sweetness and vulnerability that my sister had. It was as if living in an armed encampment, surrounded by war, hadn't diminished the light inside of her one bit.

  And it made me smile.

  She looked up at Manyr with something like reverence in her eyes. It was clear that she worshiped the woman. Not that it was surprising that a young girl would look up to Manyr – she was a woman well worth being admired. But when the girl looked at me, her eyes widened and her smile grew even broader.

  “Vyla,” Manyr said. “This is Ha – ”

  “Hatare,” the girl finished. “I know who she is. I mean, who doesn't?”

  Manyr laughed and I could feel the heat rushing into my face. I didn't like being the object of so much attention. Living in my father's home, I had always managed to exist on the outskirts, never calling attention to myself, content to be left alone. The only time their attention was on me, was when I was being groomed to go to the Academy and boost the prestige of my family.