The Redwood Rebel (The Redwood War Book 1)

by Lorna George

  ‘You will be escorted to the stables, where a horse and supplies are waiting.’ Cygnus interrupted her dark musings and she blinked in surprise. ‘You will then be taken to the city limits, and only then will you have access to weapons. A bow and quiver, and a small dagger, for the sake of hunting.’

  ‘That’s incredibly generous of you.’ she frowned, suspecting a trick, though not understanding how it might be.

  ‘I was very impressed with your performance last night, my dear.’ he smirked and she didn’t miss the lecherous wink he gave the two guards as he said it. Well, that made sense. He certainly wouldn’t want everyone knowing who she had really been with last night, but the thought of Cygnus touching her like that made her feel physically ill.

  ‘I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of our agreement?’ he continued. ‘If you return, you will be killed on sight.’

  She nodded curtly, but said nothing. She supposed it was the same as lying outright, but she wasn’t sure how she could trust herself to keep a blank expression. If Cygnus suspected any foul play on her part, he would likely kill her on the spot anyway. That was what she would do, at least. Then again, if she were in their situation she would never have allowed such a threat to survive as long as they had let her in the first place.

  ‘Are we done?’ she asked flatly.

  ‘Yes, we’re done,’ he replied, that cold smile twisting his face. ‘Good luck on your travels. I hope you make the best use of this opportunity.’

  She turned away and began to walk ahead of her escort. Her face was set as she muttered to herself, ‘I will.’

  Chapter Four

  After all that had passed, Naomi had been sure she was incapable of further heartbreak. There had been times in that dark abyss of a cell she had believed herself to be completely without feeling at all. She had lost so much, suffered in ways she had never imagined, and had thought her eyes dry of tears forever, but here she was, trying to fight them off for the second time today.

  It had been at the guard’s insistence that she pull the hood of her cloak up to hide her features, and at the time she had wanted to rebel. Now she was glad for the cover. She kept her head down, eyes stinging and throat painfully tight, watching her booted feet walk down the dusty streets, flanked by the two guards Cygnus had deployed with her. One of them led the horse and supplies that were for her, and the other was conspicuously keeping a crossbow aimed at her back. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of her tears, nor that she was afraid to go against the guards; neither were exactly sober, and she wondered how foolish Cygnus was to leave only two to escort her. She had never thought of him as stupid, but when she had first left the castle and seen that there were to be no further guards, she had almost taken it as a challenge. Then the castle gates had opened, and she had seen for the first time in four years what had become of the capital city.

  It felt like an arrow shot between her ribs and directly into the heart she had begun to think lost. Naomi stopped, rooted to the spot in horror, and it had only been the sharp reminder in her back that caused her to move again.

  Ffion had never been a particularly wealthy or grand country. She had seen the palaces of Tsumetai and knew that Chloris Castle was plain by comparison. Their country was mostly farmers, and the architecture reflected that. It was humble but strong, like the folk, and it had been home. What they had lacked in riches they had more than made up for in pride of a job well done, no matter how small, and a deep sense of duty. They were each of them people of the land, pleased by simple, beautiful things. It was in their blood, and in hers, too. Gruff, but happy. Sturdy. Yes, that was exactly the word for Ffion. Sturdy trees, sturdy homes, sturdy people. Or they had been once.

  Now the buildings were crumbling, thatched roofs caved in or shoddily fixed with low-grade supplies. Most had boarded windows and beaten-down doors, the darkness inside hiding gods knew what. The animal pens were all empty, with signs of fire and forced entry. There was the occasional starved dog, cowering pitifully as they passed, but it was the people that broke her.

  Her sturdy people, now gaunt and tired, most withered almost as much as she was, all happiness beaten from their deadened eyes. The forest was full of rich dyes from plants and berries, and as such garments had always been bright and hearty, but even that was gone. Everything was dusty, grey, and broken. There was no beauty to find joy in, no laughter from any corner of the soft wind that toyed with her cloak, not even a sign of the markets that had once filled these wide streets. Adrienne had squeezed those she was supposed to protect, taken all they had and left them with nothing. Her people suffered, and even should her plans succeed, they would suffer for seasons to come.

  It was more than Naomi could stand to walk amongst them like this, to walk away while they were in such need. She bit her lip until she tasted blood, nails digging into her palm, and rage swept through her sorrow. It was hard not to turn tail immediately, scale the castle walls if she had to, and end it all by killing Adrienne with her own two hands. With her emotions in such a mess, it seemed like a flawless plan. Kill the traitor, free the people. It kept flying around her head with dizzying speed, but right in the middle her common sense sat like a stone. Naomi was physically depleted, her body upright by stubbornness alone. She was frankly amazed she had managed this long. Adrienne was well-guarded, too. Even if she could make it past all the guards to her adversary, there was Cygnus, and now Arun.

  Something powerful blasted through her body, and shocked by the force of it, Naomi stumbled and fell to her hands and knees. Now dizzy and disoriented, it took a moment for the ringing in her ears to clear enough that she could hear the guard with the crossbow barking at her to get up. Sweat beaded her brow and she heaved air into her quaking body. She tried to force herself back up to her feet, but even as she mustered the strength to do it, the guard lost patience with her.

  ‘You hear me, slut?’ He kicked into her gut, and her elbows gave out under her. ‘I say get up or I’ll shoot you!’

  Naomi could feel her muscles quivering under her skin as though she were with fever, her stomach heaving silently from the force of the blow. Rage again swelled even as her face was pressed into the dusty, broken cobbles.

  ‘I’ll shoot you, woman! Don’t think I won’t do it!’

  She was sure he would, but she couldn’t seem to push herself back up. The crossbow clicked as he removed the safety catch. Her senses sharpened enough for her to then hear the scuff of his boot again leaving the ground to kick her a second time. This time she was ready.

  The boot swung into her, but faster than she might have believed herself capable of, she turned and caught the offending foot with both hands. Twisting quickly and yanking it towards herself, she floored him with an almighty crash. The crossbow didn’t go off, despite the sudden move, and swiftly she snatched it out of his temporarily slack hand and rolled up into a standing position.

  The first guard lay on the floor, winded and bewildered, even as the second one fumbled with his own crossbow, not yet loaded at all. Naomi, very charitably in her opinion, waited for him to finish. He was sweating, his eyes blown wide in panic and far too much alcohol for someone coping with this situation.

  ‘You’ve only got one bolt,’ he stammered, aiming his crossbow at her and indicating his groaning, fallen comrade and the quiver of arrows at his hip. ‘Stand down.’

  That interested her. His choice of language made him sound almost like a real soldier, despite the slight slur to his words. Not just a thug then, this one. The one she had floored shifted and took in the situation hazily. Then he snorted in amusement.

  ‘You can’t shoot us both, you stupid slut.’

  Naomi’s brows rose fractionally as she looked down at him. ‘No, I guess not.’

  Without one iota of hesitation, she shot him through the eye, deep into his skull. He gurgled sickeningly, but she only had eyes for his shocked companion now. Throwing the useless crossbow to the floor with a clatter, she lowered her hands down to her sid
es. There were spectators now. She could see them closing in around the hapless guardsman’s back.

  ‘Do you want to die?’ he cried, horrified by her actions, and probably her complete lack of care. She cocked her head to one side, never breaking eye contact.

  ‘Do you want to kill me?’

  His face seemed to crumple and he began to blubber. ‘I never wanted to kill anyone! Not like this! Not like you just did!’

  ‘Like what?’ she asked, taking a small step towards him. ‘Without mercy? While they were unarmed? Before they even realised they were dead?’

  She took another step. The crossbow lowered fractionally in his hands as he tilted his head back and squeezed his eyes closed. ‘I never wanted to… My Lady, forgive me… I never meant…’

  He recognised her, then. That was certainty enough that he had served as a soldier before Adrienne’s coup. She took another step.

  ‘But you did do it. You’ve killed the defenceless, without mercy. The innocent, the loyal, the brave. Why?’

  It was a question that had been burning inside her since Adrienne and Cygnus had taken the Redwood Throne. She had returned from war, and the information she had gathered before her own capture had been fragmented. Most of the fiefs had already been burned, and a large percentage, larger than she could ever have imagined in her worst nightmares before this, had turned to a new mistress. They had killed at her whim, those they had once served beside and those they had sworn to protect. It had plagued her in the all-consuming darkness. Eaten her alive. Why? Why had so many turned?

  From under her hood, she watched the guard search for an answer, and from behind him saw that the people gathered in the street were looking at her now. She lowered her head further, partly in shame for their predicament, but also to throw her face into deeper shadow. She should never have left Ffion. She shouldn’t have gone to Tsumetai to help her kin in their war, but stayed here, where she belonged. It was true that she could never have expected Adrienne to attempt such a thing as to overthrow her own uncle, but Naomi could have made such a difference just by being in the right place at the right time. She would never forgive herself, but she would never forgive those that had turned traitor, either.

  ‘Answer me!’ she barked, losing patience with his drunken snivelling. ‘Tell me why!’

  ‘I was afraid!’ he burst out. ‘There were so many of them, I knew we were lost! They killed everyone in their path, fire everywhere… They would have killed me too if I hadn’t turned!’

  Naomi’s face twisted into a disgusted sneer. ‘You took an oath. An oath to the people!’

  ‘My commanding officer turned first!’ he tried to placate her, the crossbow now forgotten in his hands. ‘He ordered us! He said if we didn’t do as we were ordered, he would kill us as traitors! He…he said there was a new Queen and we had to obey her.’

  ‘Don’t play stupid with me. Adrienne wasn’t next in line to the throne, even if the King and Queen were dead.’

  ‘I was just doing as I was told!’ he insisted. ‘Following orders, that’s the life of a soldier, right?’

  Naomi took a deep, shuddering breath. Perhaps she’d never know the answer; this certainly wasn’t it. She realised that in her anger and despair, she was holding one person accountable for the atrocities of many. It wasn’t going to get her anywhere.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he continued piteously. ‘What was I supposed to do?’

  ‘You were supposed to do the right thing,’ she muttered, turning away from him. Looking down to the dead man on the ground, she made a decision. She knelt, and viciously ripped the Redwood emblem from his tunic, where it rested over his heart. It made her sick to see it worn by such scum, remembering how hard she had worked to get her own uniform, and how proud she had been to wear it.

  “Honour and Duty” was the Redwood motto. It had meant something back then, or at least it had to some of them. Briefly, her mind wandered to those she had served with, and couldn’t imagine a single one of them ever turning to Adrienne to save their own skins. Of course, that probably meant they were all dead now, and that pained her, but not as much as the idea of them raising their blades to the innocent. She held the embroidered crest gently between her fingers and ran the pad of her thumb over it.

  Overwhelmed by a sudden swell of emotions, she sucked her now-bloody lip until it hurt and took another steadying breath. Turning back to the guard and the watchful people, she lifted her chin for the first time since leaving the confinement of the castle. Her eyes flicked to the closed gates, judging the distance, then back to the pale, sweating guardsman. It was his turn to lower his head in shame. Stepping back over the body of the other, she held out her hand.

  ‘Give me your weapon,’ she commanded and watched as he gripped the crossbow tightly, clearly trying to decide whether to shoot her or not. She held his gaze steadily. ‘You said you were sorry, didn’t you? So prove it.’

  He still didn’t look convinced and began to shiver violently as his breathing became laboured. Naomi saw the civilians start to close ranks behind him, and while she felt proud of them for still standing together, clearly unwilling to let this man get away with shooting her, she didn’t want the blame levied at any one of them. She looked back at the guard.

  ‘That’s an order, soldier,’ she said firmly, and she immediately saw the fight go out of him. His shoulders slumped and he all but swung the crossbow into her waiting hand. Holding the weapon carefully, she lowered it to point down at the ground, then gave him the blood-stained Redwood crest from his comrades’ uniform. He took it with shaking hands and an expression of confusion.

  ‘You go back to the castle, and you take that to Lord Cygnus.’ She nodded down to the patch of embroidery.

  The guard licked his dry lips carefully, starting to appear calmer now he knew she was letting him go. ‘Is there, uh, any message?’

  ‘That is the message.’ She smirked to herself, then motioned for him to leave. He hesitated only a breath before he was running fearfully down the main street to the castle gates. Naomi didn’t watch him go, but turned back to the gathered people, most of which looked fit to give chase. It was good to see there was still fight in them. Their tribulations weren’t over yet.

  She suddenly had the urge to speak to them, but no idea what to say. She remembered that Master Gerrard had always urged honesty and frankness, and took a deep breath as she decided what they needed to know. Her throat felt suddenly raw, but she forced the words out.

  ‘They’ll send soldiers through here shortly. I suggest you all return to your homes and point them truthfully in the direction I’m about to escape.’

  It wasn’t exactly what she’d wanted to say, but it was honest and frank. For now that would have to be enough. One man, who looked like he had been portly at some point in his life but was little more than loose skin now, stepped forward.

  ‘Who are you, lassie?’

  She hadn’t expected the directness of that, and for a moment she toyed with the idea of simply leaving without offering any answer. That thought was quickly tossed aside in disgust. She had no idea how to respond, it was true, but they deserved better. They deserved hope.

  ‘For now I’m nobody. Just a ghost that’s about to disappear.’ She looked back at the guard and saw him reach the gates, pounding hard to be allowed entry. ‘But one day I’ll come back to life. I’ll return here to be the vengeance for all you have suffered. I swear it.’

  The heavy gate began to creak open, and raising the crossbow, she took aim carefully, and fired. Her shot didn’t miss its target, and with the arrow protruding out the back of his neck, the guardsman fell, probably lifeless, to the ground. Naomi felt nothing but a faint satisfaction that her aim was still good, and dropped the crossbow carelessly. There was a longbow and arrows slung across the waiting horse’s saddle, which she much preferred.

  As she climbed up onto the horse, listening to the sounds of the shouting guards at the castle gate in the distance, she looked down at the
shocked people. She could understand the fear in their eyes at her ruthless actions, but she had meant it when she called herself their vengeance. Those who had turned would learn soon that excuses and apologies weren’t ever going to absolve them. They were as much to blame for the suffering and decline of Ffion as Adrienne and Cygnus were. She had no mercy for them.

  ‘Go back to your homes,’ she repeated again, pulling the reins of her horse to begin her flight into the forest and out of Ffion. ‘And know that the one who calls herself Queen is on borrowed time.’

  Not waiting for a response, she nudged the horse forwards and into a gallop. She was light and the horse was fast, leaving her confident that she could outstrip any pursuers to the city gates and lose them in the woods. Right now, all she could do for anyone, including herself, was get to Tsumetai and find refuge to recover and make plans.

  Chapter Five

  Something was wrong. Something aside from the raging hangover that was tearing his brain to pieces.

  Arun tried to open his heavy, sleep-crusted eyes, but quickly shut them again as the blinding sunshine poured in, causing his head to pound painfully. After a moment of rubbing his face and attempting to sightlessly work out where he was, he tried again. Blinking and ignoring the throbbing of his head and his aching muscles, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. His mouth tasted like something had died in there and his stomach churned precariously as he tried to take stock of where he was.

  He looked down at the woman sleeping next to him with a small frown. It was Adrienne, but somehow it felt wrong. Looking at her buxom form with confused eyes, he felt almost certain she had seemed a lot smaller in his arms the night before. She had been light and fragile, offering no difficulties whenever he had lifted her or supported her weight during their joining, but looking at her now, he was surprised. He didn't think her breasts had felt that large under his hands, her hips that wide....