Rebel's Blade (The Aermian Feuds Book 1)

by Frost Kay

  A knock sounded at his chamber door, interrupting his thoughts. “Enter,” he called.

  Sam and Gav entered looking just as ragged as he did. “Get anything out of her?” Tehl asked, exhausted.

  They traded looks before responding. Not a good sign. Sam sat on the corner of Tehl’s dresser and propped a leg up. “You first, Gav. I feel like I’ve talked enough today. Your turn.”

  Gav grimaced, brushing imaginary lint from his sleeve.

  “Not well?” Tehl guessed.

  “Your brother used his usual charm, and she played right into him.” Gav’s expression remained solemn. “She fought us the entire way afterward, and we had to chain her. She’d taken neither food nor water, as per your orders, so Sam offered my ester cider, which she wanted not as she assumed it to be poisoned, but long story short: Sam tried it first, and she was thirsty enough to drink the whole cup.”

  “You used the serum then? And how did it go? Did it work?” Excitement raced through him. The serum Gav created was a stroke of genius; they’d managed to get even the toughest of men to blubber out their life stories with it.

  “Well…” Gavriel seemed unwilling to continue so Sam interrupted:

  “It didn’t work.”

  Gav glared at his cousin. “Hey! What happened to me telling the story?”

  Sam shrugged. “You were taking too long.”

  “Wait,” Tehl cut in. “What do you mean ‘it didn’t work’? It’s worked on everyone we’ve tested it on so far.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to inform you it didn’t work on Miss Ruby.” Sam pulled a face. “I drugged her out of her mind but she never once stumbled or slipped.”

  “Then what was her story?”

  “She said her mother named her Ruby after some necklace she’d stolen. Later, her mum threw her out on the street where she’s been supposedly living ever since. She also said her mother is dead and that her brothers are now pirates, and she stole the dagger from a random man about six months ago,” Sam finished with a strong dose of skepticism.

  “So, why don’t you believe her, Sam?” Tehl asked.

  Sam stood and began pacing. “First, she doesn’t look like a ‘Ruby’. I mean she’s not even a redhead!”

  Sometimes he couldn’t follow his brother’s logic. Tehl glanced to Gav and his cousin rolled his eyes. “What does red hair have to do with it?”

  Sam tossed his hands in the air. “Everything and nothing. I guess that’s beside the point so let’s leave it for now. Did either of you notice how her words would change as she spoke? She constantly shifts from proper, educated speech to slang. When I spoke of how the ester was distilled she had no difficulty following. A child who grew up on the streets, uneducated, would’ve had more questions and general confusion.” Sam paused, considering. “I also found it interesting that she didn’t divulge information unless prompted. Generally, after administering the ester, we can’t get them to shut up, but not so with this girl. Not once did I have to redirect the conversation.”

  Tehl looked to Gav for confirmation. “Do you agree?”

  “Unfortunately, I do. I’ve no idea how she lied to us, but I’m certain she did,” Gav bit out.

  The room fell silent as each contemplated the implications of this.

  “How long was your interrogation?” Tehl

  “Until she lost consciousness,” Sam deadpanned.

  “Why the hell did she pass out?” Tehl growled. “That’s not even supposed to happen.”

  “Ask our brooding alchemist.”

  Tehl arched a midnight eyebrow at his cousin. Gav folded his arms and returned their looks with a scowl. “It was a bit of an overdose. I made adjustments for her smaller size, but somehow it was still too much.” Shrugging, he added, “She’s slept the rest of the day but at least she didn’t die or anything.”

  “I am greatly pleased to hear you didn’t kill our solitary tie to the resistance,” Tehl said dryly. “So, what now?”

  Gav glanced between the two brothers. “It pains me to say this, but I think there may be continued benefit in restrictions on food and water. I’m not interested in hurting the woman, however, I’m also hoping two days of isolation might provide the incentive for her to be more forthcoming.”

  Tehl looked to Sam. “What do you think? This is, after all, your area or expertise.”

  Sam shook his head. “Honestly? She’ll be a problem no matter what, but I believe Gav’s suggestion has merit. She seems to come alive with company so isolation may just do the trick.”

  “It’s settled then. Keep an eye on her but without her knowledge, stay out of sight. First, though, go and rest, both of you. You’re dead on your feet.”

  Mumbling their farewells, each departed for his own chamber as Tehl watched the flames dance in the hearth, soothed by the comforting sounds of crackling wood. After a moment, he stripped himself of any remaining clothing and fell into bed with a sigh. Tomorrow would be a better day.

  It was too much to hope this day would be an improvement from the last. He’d barely finished breakfast, and he already had a list of issues demanding his attention. When he said he didn’t care how the festival came together it seemed no one listened. Who gave a rat’s ass if the linens were white or ivory? He certainly didn’t. And who knew that the colors in his theme had the potential to either elevate or offend various nobles? What a crock. If a color scheme offended you then you really had no business representing a kingdom.

  In addition to this, it seemed every invitation required his personal signature. After the first hundred, his hand cramped. Shaking it out, he glared at the sea of invitations still taunting him. Groaning he laid his head on the desk. Was this what his life had come to? Picking colors and signing invitations? He would complete the invitations, and with efficiency, but he briefly allowed himself a moment to indulge in a bit of wallowing.

  Suddenly, his door burst open. The noise startled him enough that the pen in his hand scratched a hole in one of his pristine invitations.

  “Damn it,” he growled, glaring up at the intruder. “Ever heard of knocking? Look what you made me do!” Tehl waved the ink-marred invitation before his brother. “It’s ruined. Now I’ll have to sign another of these stupid things. I’m going to be here forever.”

  Oddly enough, Sam had not interrupted his invitation tirade and allowed him to finish before speaking.

  “I am sorry, my prince, but I have urgent news.”

  Tehl sat up taller. His brother rarely used his title and usually only to tease him or when addressing him on matters of great importance. “What is it?”

  “I’ve just received word that the Scythians have broken their borders and attacked. This time, however, they did not return to their own borders, but have instead set up camp in Silva.”

  All color drained from Tehl’s face. “What of the people?”

  “They took care of anyone capable of resisting and enslaved the rest. If those captives cross their border, there’s no chance of recovery. As Silva’s a farming community, no garrison is stationed there. What would you have me do?”

  Tehl’s fists clenched, his voice hard. “It seems they’re looking for war. I will not allow my people to suffer and die in Scythia. What are the enemy numbers?”

  “My current information says around twenty-five soldiers.”

  “Gather a company from the Elite, and we can depart immediately.”

  Sam shook his head. “I believe we would be better off if you stayed. We ought not risk both of our country’s princes at once. If things go south, we need someone to handle things here.”

  Tehl shot up and placed both hands on the desk. “I understand your concerns, but these are my people and they need me. My place is not sitting here, waiting. I will fight for them, you know this.”

  Sam studied him and nodded. “I will ready the men.”

  “Please saddle Wraith.”

  “It will be done.”

  Spinning on his heel, Sam departed. Tehl stared after
him trying to calm the fury that had overtaken him. It was the Scythians. He loathed any dealing with the damned kingdom. They were barbaric warmongers. Dark eyes, dark hair, and olive skin characterized the entire nation, not because of some geographic isolation but rather owing to their disturbing practice of removing any born who did not fit the established standard. Even contemplating it had Tehl’s stomach turning sour.

  He strode to the armory, determined to strike fear into their dark hearts. No one attacked his people and got away with it.

  Thirteen

  TEHL

  As the company made their way to the border, Tehl observed the passing countryside with appreciation. The rolling fields had always enchanted him as a boy whenever they rode this way. The golden wheat gleamed and swayed in the wind, almost as if it waved a greeting as they galloped by.

  His eyes wandered to his brother riding beside him. He looked to be made of stone, his expression severe and his jaw set. It was hard to believe this was the same man with whom he’d joked and teased earlier that morning.

  “Are you going to stare at me the entire way?” Sam asked without even sparing a glance in Tehl’s direction.

  “I wasn’t staring at you,” he fibbed.

  “Sure you were.” Though he continued to scrutinize the landscape, the corners of Sam’s lips tipped ever so slightly heavenward.

  Mollified at having achieved at least a little reaction, Tehl changed the subject.

  “How long ’til we arrive?” It had been a long time since he was near Silva.

  Sam squinted at the sun and then to the forest. “We have a couple hours until we get into position, but it will be dark before we reach the trees. After that it will be slow going once we enter the forest.” Sam’s voice drifted over the thunder of hooves toward Tehl.

  Tehl nodded and focused back on the trail ahead.

  When they finally reached the forest boundary only a sliver of the sun remained over the western mountains. Sam slowed his mount and raised a fist, signaling all to slow their approach. The company followed at a trot as he led them to a small creek and dismounted, gesturing for the Elite to follow suit.

  As Tehl swung off Wraith, he was stopped short by a sharp pain in his calf.

  Damn leg cramps.

  Carefully, he flexed his foot back and forth until the pain subsided. Stepping from his horse Tehl stretched, clicking his neck and back.

  Sam, noticing Tehl’s discomfort, sauntered over with a grin. “Stiff, brother?”

  “I’m sure that’s what Daisy asked you last night,” Tehl shot back.

  Sam’s whistled. “Two innuendos in a week. I think I might finally be rubbing off on you.”

  “Let’s hope not,” Tehl retorted, attempting to gnaw a hunk of dried venison.

  Sam grimaced. “That’s disgusting! For God’s sake, close your mouth. Our tutors beat matters of etiquette into us, so how is it you’ve retained such an awful set of manners?”

  Tehl responded by opening his mouth and displaying more chewed food. “Does it look like there’s anyone to impress out here? I’m pretty sure the men and the horses don’t care so I’ll eat however I damn well please.” He finished his tirade by shooting a meat-filled grin in Sam’s direction and, though he obviously fought it, his brother’s lip still twitched. He loved that about Sam; no matter their situation, he never lost his sense of humor.

  Sam rifled through his saddlebags, eventually producing a canteen, which they shared, the cool water refreshing them after their hard ride. Tehl closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, enjoying the crispness of the evening air but paused when something familiar tickled his nose, stirring up childhood memories. Glancing around, he noticed the forest floor was littered with little herbs. With a soft smile, he bent down, skimming his fingers across the ruffled leaf. Lemon balm. His mum had always kept it in her solar, so wherever she went the scent clung to her skin and garments. Sam squatted next to him, mirroring his smile. Tehl broke off a leaf and passed it to his brother. Sam rubbed the leaf and brought it to his nose.

  “Smells like Mum.”

  Tehl nodded, no other words needed. He leaned back and stared at the night sky. A few stars had appeared, shining like diamonds on blue silk. In the distance, he could see the fields of wheat had softened from the brilliant gold of day to a soft silver in the waning light.

  Sam too peered up at the sky and muttered, “It’s time. I’d prefer to have the moon for a bit of light but we’d best head out now.” Standing, he commanded the company: “Prepare to depart.”

  Sam eyed his men with pride as they followed his orders with efficiency, each checking their tack and gear before mounting up. They were ready within moments.

  “Listen up,” Sam called. “You all know how many lives depend on the success of this mission so I’m sure I need not tell you how essential a soundless approach is. Be alert. It’s going to be a tedious few hours so prepare yourselves.”

  Sam then kneed his mount forward, approaching the tree line.

  Tehl noted that, in the faded light, the shadows of the forest seemed a bit sinister. As a boy, he always treasured this forest; the trees stretched their limbs over him like giant protectors. Tonight, though, they seemed more like reapers, limbs reaching to steal your life from your body.

  Sam raised a hand and motioned, signaling the company forward. Tehl directed Wraith beneath the leafy canopy and tried to shrug off the feeling of foreboding creeping over him. They would do their best and hopefully it’d be enough.

  Wraith sensed his unease and tossed his head, sidestepping, so Tehl forced himself to relax. Unclenching his hands, he tried to shake the tension from them and ran a soothing hand along Wraith’s glossy neck.

  Ahead, Sam stopped, raising a fist. Everyone froze, scanning the darkened woods around them. Silently, Sam dismounted.

  “The village is not far from here. The Scythians are camped out in the town’s center with the survivors being held slightly north in an old silo.” Sam’s eyes shifted to three men right of Tehl. “Jethro, Garreth, and Sethen: accompany the Crown and make your way toward the prisoners, but be cautious. The Scythians have already made it clear that if any step out of line, the silo will be burnt to the ground along with everyone inside.”

  Shocked, the Elite whispered curses of outrage to one another.

  “Be certain every Scythian is dealt with.” Sam looked each man in the eye. “Form your groups. I’ll lead from the east, Jaxon from the south and Luchas from the north. Stealth is our ally. Execute this both swiftly and silently, but await my signal to begin our strike on the square. Fight honorably for Aermia’s people, and I’ll see you all on the other side.”

  Tehl slipped from Wraith’s back and clasped his brother’s arm. Sam gave him a crooked grin. “Don’t die. I’d really hate to take your place, forced to sit for hours through all those bloody meetings.”

  Tehl mirrored his brother’s grin. “You don’t need to worry about me.” Releasing his brother, Tehl addressed Jethro, Garreth, and Sethen. “Let’s rid ourselves of these animals before they have a chance hurt anymore of our people.” Each nodded, exchanging feral grins, eyes lit in anticipation.

  “Let’s go.”

  Fourteen

  SAGE

  Sage blinked and rubbed her eyes, trying to clear the sleep from them though they felt like a bag of sand had been poured over them. Her tongue, thick and dry, stuck to the roof of her mouth. She lifted her head and surveyed herself but was surprised to see nothing was tying her down. Why weren’t her arms and legs moving? Squinting at the stone wall across from her, and she tried to remember what had happened. Slowly, little pieces of yesterday resurfaced in her mind. A cup full of apple cider…violet eyes…and blond curls.

  They’d drugged her, again.

  How long had she been out? Minutes? Hours? How much time had she lost? Her breathing picked up as her heart pounded. She was panicking, which was pointless.

  Calm down, you’re okay.

  The drugs were sti
ll in effect so it mustn’t have been long since they were administered. Hence, they’d likely wear off after a short time; she needed to be patient. Sage dropped her head back on the cot and began counting the gray stones in the ceiling to pass the time. At around stone one hundred and seventy, her eyes became heavy, and she finally dropped off.

  * * *

  Sage jerked awake and bolted upright, painfully jostling her ribs as she did so. The sudden movement also had the dark room spinning around her. Her entire body was sticky and over warm. Panting, she placed her fist to her mouth, wanting to retch from the various unsavory smells that seemed to be pressing in on her. Sage grimaced and leaned against the wall, the cool stone bringing relief to the heat in her feverish skin.

  Pale moonlight now shone through the bars of the small window. She’d slept quite a while but at least it meant the truth serum had worn off. She noticed a small tin cup glinting in the dim lighting, and she remembered how dry her throat was. With a groan, she hoisted herself off the bed and staggered a few steps to pick it up. Her legs shook, threatening to collapse. Sage tried not to spill a drop of the precious liquid as she stumbled back to the bed. She needed a healer.

  Just as she was about to bring the cup to her lips it occurred to her that something could be amiss with it. She sat, debating whether to drink it or not. She swirled the water in the cup and eyed it. Sage dipped one finger into the cup, tasted a drop and then waited.

  Nothing.

  She didn’t know how much time had passed since she drank the cider, but she was definitely suffering the effects of dehydration. She needed to drink this. But was it worth taking the chance of being drugged again? She’d never been helpless before yesterday, and it wasn’t a feeling she relished. This time, Sage sniffed the cup, just to see if she detected anything out of the ordinary, but she smelled nothing. Her tests so far didn’t mean it was safe to drink but she couldn’t survive without water so she’d have to take the chance. Sage brought the cup to her parched lips, and she took a small sip, letting it wet her mouth and soothe her dry throat. She took another small sip, trying not to gulp it all down at once. She decided it was enough for now and hid the now half-empty cup beneath her cot. Who knew when she would receive more?