by B. T. Narro
“There are many, though.” Rygen started to count off a list with her fingers. “We’d have to do everything the army tells us. They could send us to another city to train. They could separate us. They could even force us into battle, and execute us if we refuse!”
Andar appeared surprised. “You’ve thought about this before.”
She nodded. “And there’s another reason I’ll never join them.”
A heavy silence filled the room as they realized Rygen would not say it aloud.
Leo questioned his brother, “How do you expect her to join the people who murdered her mother?”
“Rygen, I will never agree with their methods. I will never be allegiant to them no matter what they make me swear. The way I expect you to join them after what they did to Verona is the same way Leo and I can join them even though they hunt for our father. In fact, this is the best way to go against them. We need to be stronger if we will ever have a chance of making a difference. This is the way.”
Leo’s hands became sweaty as he recognized his brother’s steadfast tone. Andar had already made his decision.
“When are you joining?” Leo asked as a great fear pulled his small voice back into his throat.
“Tomorrow,” Andar said. “And the two of you should come with me.”
Rygen fell into a chair and covered her face as she started to cry.
“This is for the best,” Andar said softly, then looked at Leo as if silently asking him to console her.
Leo sat beside Rygen and put his arm around her. She put considerable effort into stopping her crying, then dried her eyes.
“Are you joining as well?” she asked timidly.
“I don’t know yet.” Leo just wanted them all to be safe and together. There was a risk the army would separate them during training or for a later task. Perhaps they wouldn’t even train Leo and Rygen yet because they were too young. They might put them to work on horrible tasks like digging a hole deep into the Tisary, as Andar had done.
Rygen told Andar, “The army must have some kind of way to tell that you are loyal and not a rebel. They could catch you.”
“They only have questions and tasks,” Andar said. “My answers will be lies, and I can do whatever task they give me. You and Leo can as well. I know this is the best decision for all us. I haven’t brought up my age when trying to convince the two of you about anything before, but I must now. I am a lot older than you two. I know what’s best here.”
Rygen hung her head and didn’t speak.
Andar asked, “Leo? What do you think?”
“I think you’re right that it is best for us…right now,” he specified. “But we might realize later that it was not the best decision.”
“If you want to do something important with your life, then it is the right decision.”
Leo couldn’t bring himself to disagree with that. He had been yearning for a change earlier today, and this was it. Rygen looked up at him with imploring eyes. He could see that she could not be convinced.
Andar said, “You both can think about it for the rest of the night. I’m going to the recruitment office tomorrow to show them what I can do, and I expect both of you to come with me.”
“I don’t need time to think,” Rygen said, her cheeks crimson. A frightening look of anger sparked in her eyes. “I’m not going to join those people, ever.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A day had passed since Darren had successfully made it out of the city with a horse and carriage. He was not proud of maiming many of the soldiers who stood in his way, but at least he had not killed anyone. As he’d suspected, most of the men on the night watch in Jatn were not the best swordsmen. In fact, most of them on the day watch probably were just as unskilled. It was their sheer numbers that secured control over the Farmers’ Guild in the political battle for the city. The really fearsome army men were those still looking for Erisena and the other rebels like Darren.
Most everyone called him by his birth name now, DVend Quim. He was surprised when even the guards he beat somehow recognized him well enough to shout that DVend Quim was fleeing the city with a horse and carriage. Darren was certain hundreds of townsfolk must’ve heard as well, and the news had probably spread throughout the city the next day. He hoped his children knew he was uninjured and safe.
He met with his group of rebels outside the city. Darren had been charged with leading this smaller group after he’d convinced Erisena that Mavrim’s army wouldn’t suspect rebels to return to Jatn. This was the best city to gather supplies and an even better place to recruit. It was here that citizens had seen firsthand the destruction and negligence of the king’s army. As he rode over the hillside in the carriage, he could see by the swell of his group that they had grown by at least a few hundred. There were many horses with them now, while before they had none. There were even pigs and sheep. The recruiters had done well.
It was evening by the time he made it across the countryside and was greeted by Lane Writhe at the front of the group. Every day she appeared dirtier and more worried, but Darren couldn’t help but think she was more beautiful with each passing moment. He knew the attraction went both ways—he’d seen it many times in the looks she’d given him during the countless hours they’d traveled and planned together. But nothing would happen between them. Darren would make sure of it. This was not the time to open his heart to anyone, as there was only enough room in it for his children. He would return to see them again when he could, but his most optimistic plan for success told him that it would be years. He could easily let that get to him, for the fact felt like a terminal disease. It could cripple his spirit permanently if he let it, so instead he focused on each task at a time.
“Any trouble?” Lane asked. She had the dark eyes of a wise woman, which came as a contrast to the rest of her youthful face. She had light freckles across her cheeks. Her chin had a sharp and nearly flat curve beneath a thin mouth. She often looked as if someone had begun to tell her a joke to which she already knew the ending, and she did not find it amusing. But when she did smile, it was as if a storm had ended and a bright sun appeared in the sky.
“None,” Darren said. “What about here?”
“We saw no patrol.”
“Have any of the new recruits told us where the cavaliers are?” Darren asked.
“One. He worked in one of the army’s bathhouses before joining us and overheard talk of them traveling to Analyte land in expectation of Erisena heading there.”
“Do we know which city they’ll search first?”
“We don’t.”
Darren hoped Erisena would not be found. The Analyte woman was a marvel when it came to summoning and recruiting, but she was no battle strategist. Fortunately, she had a few people with her who Darren had grown to trust in times of need. He had taught them much of what he had learned as a captain in his father’s army.
Soon Darren had his group of nearly a thousand rebels walking southwest. With the cavaliers of the king’s army heading to Analyte territory to the east, Darren would take advantage by visiting the many cities and small towns located in the other direction. It would also bring them farther from the capital, which reduced the chances of them being found.
They hadn’t walked for more than an hour when they spotted a troubling sight to the north near Jatn. What looked to be a mass of men and horses appeared as silhouettes on the hillside.
“Perhaps the bathhouse worker was wrong,” Lane said.
“I don’t think that’s the cavaliers,” Darren said.
He feared any group led by the king or one of his commanders, but the infamous cavaliers were the most deadly. When the king’s army had come to Jatn, the cavaliers were the ones who’d chased down Erisena and the rebels. If it wasn’t for the massive beast she’d summoned, which had died fighting back the skilled men on horseback, everyone here would probably be dead as well.
The prized cavaliers of the king, however, had no reason to be near Jatn. Perhaps this was
another brigade, or could it be a group unrelated to the king’s army? Could it be more rebels who’d heard what happened and come to Jatn for battle?
“They’re coming this way,” Lane said nervously.
More and more of them swarmed over the hill at the horizon. There had to be thousands. It would take them an hour to reach the position of Darren’s group. He had a choice to make. He could tell his group to hurry and keep their distance from them, but Darren’s group was unlikely to lose them in this open terrain. There were no mountains or forests for many miles. He did not like that plan, so he was glad he trusted his instincts that these were not enemies.
“Give me the violet flag,” Darren said. Lane handed it to him, and he packed it into his bag. “Take everyone to the hills south of here. Watch for our sign. If you don’t see it, I’m dead or captured and you must take everyone southeast. You’ll try to lose them in the mountains, though expect the journey to take two weeks to get there.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, go now. They’re not an hour behind.”
Lane whistled for everyone’s attention. “Follow me, and hurry! We’re walking through the night. If you can’t keep up, you will be left behind.”
It was harsh but it was how the situation must be handled. All of these men and women had given up comfort and safety when joining the rebels. They would not complain.
Morning light peaked over the horizon as Darren chose which hill to use. He climbed around and hid himself on a ledge, then waited. He had his sword. He had his knife. He had their violet flag. If these men posed any threat to the rebels, Darren’s last act would be to destroy the flag so that it could not be used against them. If they were allies, the flag would be raised among this group when they rode to the rebels the next day.
There was little light left for him to make out the people as they walked past his hill. Very few had armor, but almost all carried swords on their belts. A surprising number of them were women, possibly even half. He saw no sigils, no flags. They seemed more prepared for a journey than Darren’s group was, however. Many animals were with them, along with carriages full of sacks and barrels. But they looked less like an army and more like denizens evacuating their town.
Darren climbed around and walked up the rest of the hill. When he made it to the top, he was surprised that it still didn’t seem as if he’d been noticed. How were these people not more aware of their surroundings?
“Halt!” he announced.
None appeared frightened as they stopped and looked up. A number of them asked who he was, but others were calling out a familiar name. Fa-lip soon was at the end of everyone’s beckoning call.
Darren could already tell this was not the king’s army, for none of them aimed arrows at him or ordered him to discard his weapons. Neither did any come behind to surround him.
“Who are you all?” Darren asked.
“We are with FLip Trange,” answered a few.
Others said, “He is KRenn reincarnated.”
Even more called him a prophet.
Darren had heard of FLip Trange, the grandson of KRenn. Did that mean FLip’s father was here as well?
“What about HSon Trange?”
A boy rode through the crowd. He was certainly older than Andar, but he didn’t appear a year over twenty. He was fair skinned and blond.
“My father was vanquished,” he said, “because he stood against us.”
“Are you FLip?” Darren asked.
“I am—KRenn reincarnated.”
At least he didn’t claim he was a prophet, yet.
“I heard you were imprisoned in the castle after your father refused to fight alongside the king.”
“I was, but the gods lifted me out of the castle.” He spoke as if it were a fact. “Are you with the group we see heading south?”
“What’s your purpose?” Darren asked, ignoring everything else FLip had said so far.
“We wish to provide aid to the rebels,” FLip answered without a care.
“You’re going to get yourself killed telling that to a man you just met.”
“I’m not,” he answered with pride. “The gods are with us. They have protected us thus far and will continue to do so as long as we speak only the truth. They have already lifted me out of the castle, guided me to my followers, and brought all of us here to you. Therefore, I know you are not a sign of our demise. You are a rebel. We have been searching for months and finally found you.”
The group of what Darren assumed to be religious folk let out a gospel cheer.
Darren wondered how FLip had really left the imprisonment of the king’s castle. Could this be a trap of some kind? No, the king’s army was too powerful and too numerous to need tricks. They massacred and had no fear.
“You do not believe me,” FLip presumed. “You need some proof before you take us to your rebels.” He rolled up his long white sleeve to expose the top of his right arm where a brown birthmark was visible. “I was born soon after KRenn disappeared, and I have the same birthmark at the same place on my body as he did.”
Darren was not convinced of anything. When Darren was a child, his father had met with KRenn several times. Darren had even spoken to the mage himself on more than one occasion. He remembered nothing about a birthmark, and there were certainly no other similarities between him and his grandson. FLip clearly assumed things he could not know, while KRenn had an adventurous mind eager to experiment. He was a master Ascendant and summoner, and yet he was humble. Before he disappeared, he’d told Darren’s father that he was traveling to Analyte land because he felt that something was amiss. He wanted to inform the Analyte king and investigate it himself.
News of his disappearance reached the human kingdom months later. According to the Analytes, KRenn had convinced the Analyte king to send a powerful mage with KRenn to investigate the disturbance he felt in the mountains north of the Analyte capital. When neither KRenn nor the mage returned, the Analytes sent more mages in hopes of uncovering what had happened. The Analyte mage’s body was found with deep gashes and broken bones. KRenn was nowhere to be seen. Nearby was a rift bigger than any ever recorded in history. It continued to grow as they watched it and still did many years later.
The Analytes blamed KRenn for this, believing he had done something on their land—an experiment of sorts—that had gone awry. They even assumed that the human king had sent him there for such a dangerous experiment, and now there was an ever-growing rift that would one day destroy the Analyte capital before sweeping across the entire Analyte kingdom, as well as making its way into human territory. They named it Jaktius Perl: World Destroyer.
“After you find the rebels, what is your purpose?” Darren asked. He needed to know if FLip planned to stop Jaktius Perl or if his intentions could divide the rebels.
“We wish to provide the rebels aid in their battle against the king. He is a greedy and malicious man who must be removed from the throne. I spent many years observing Mavrim Orello. He is a godless destroyer.”
“And then?” Darren asked.
FLip looked up in confusion for a moment. He didn’t answer the question, asking his own instead. “What else do you need to know before you take us to the rebels? Do not forget that we are here to help you.”
Darren supposed it did not matter what FLip intended after they killed Mavrim. If the rebels ended up trying to stop Jaktius Perl by themselves, then they would be in no worse situation than they were now.
At least they had the Analytes’ support. The Analytes had already tried so hard to at least stop the rift from growing, though. Erisena had informed Darren that they were out of ideas now. Their whole reason for betraying the Quim family and joining the king’s army against them was to acquire the king’s support in stopping Jaktius Perl. Mavrim Orello had promised many human “farmers” to the Analytes if the war was won. These farmers, Erisena said, were all dead now.
They had been sent to the rift with the Analyte army. Erisena was not aware
of all the experiments these humans were forced to participate in, but none of them made it back to the Analyte capital alive. Mavrim had known their lives would be lost when he sent them, but he had not cared. All of them had fought with the Quims against him. He would’ve murdered them himself had the Analytes not made use of them.
However, he did not send any other humans to Analyte territory afterward, even though the Analyte king had requested more men many times. In fact, Mavrim had done nothing to help stop Jaktius Perl. He would die of old age before it came within sight of his castle, and he was more worried about maintaining power over his own people than about what happened in Analyte land.
Darren wondered about the true nature of how FLip escaped Mavrim’s imprisonment. Perhaps someone had betrayed Mavrim, like Karlinda had in order to free Darren and his sister from prison. Perhaps one of these betrayers to Mavrim was here within FLip’s group, ready to lie to the others and claim that FLip was lifted free by the gods.
No matter what happened, Darren supposed allowing them to join his group of rebels would help. They might have enough strength to fend off a brigade of the army now, so long as it wasn’t the cavaliers, and any extra supplies would go a long way.
Erisena might decide to turn them away eventually when she finally met this “prophet.” But until then, Darren supposed he had more people to worry about now.
“I’ll take you to the rebels,” he said.
Many cheered. The news spread fast as they shouted to each other.
Darren came down the hill and shook FLip’s hand.
“Is DVend Quim with your group?” asked FLip, sounding more like a young boy with each passing moment. “I would very much like to meet him.”
Darren held in a grumble. “You just did.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Leo went with his brother to the army’s recruitment office in northern Jatn. He hadn’t agreed he would join yet, though. First he wanted to hear what the recruitment officer would tell them.
