The thin, pale youth kept standing still. "Yes, my lord," he whispered.
Beras grunted and walked on. He paused before another girl, licked his lips, and ogled her.
"And you," he said, "you are soft and rounded. You're made for a brothel, not a barracks." He spat at her feet. "I bet two coppers you end up in one. I'll be there to break you in."
He kept moving and stopped before a tall, broad youth with black hair. Tilla recognized him as Jem Chandler, the lazy lout who spent days drunk at the Old Wheel—the youth Mae pined for.
"You!" Beras barked. "You've got some meat on you. Big lad. You think you can be a soldier?"
Jem stood so stiffly it looked like his bones could shatter. He managed to nod.
"Yes, my lord."
Beras spat at his feet. "I'm not a lord, boy. And you're not a soldier and never will be. What did you do back at that cesspool you call a city?"
Jem held his head high, the veins straining in his neck. "I'm a chandler."
"Chandler!" Beras rumbled. "What the Abyss is that—you rolled over in a whorehouse for sailors?"
"I… I made candles, my—" Jem bit his lip. "I just made candles. But I can be a soldier. I can fight. I'm strong."
Beras snorted. "Are you now? We will see. Fight me." He tossed his torch down; it crackled upon the earth. "Come on. Show me how you fight, boy."
Jem looked aside nervously and licked his lips.
"I—"
Beras drove his fist into Jem's belly.
Tilla winced, clenched her jaw, and held her breath.
Jem doubled over, gasping for breath. Standing before the youth, Beras changed—his eyes burned with wildfire, his lips pulled back from his yellow teeth, and drool ran down his chin. He was like a rabid beast. He swung, and his fist cracked against Jem's head.
At Tilla's side, Mae whimpered.
"Hush!" Tilla whispered to the girl. Her fists trembled. "Don't make a sound!"
Jem lay on the ground, hacking and coughing blood. Beras laughed and kicked him, again and again, as the youth mewled.
"See the mighty candlemaker!" Beras announced, arms raised and fists bloodied. "See the boy who thought himself a soldier!"
With a laugh, Beras kicked hard. The steel-tipped boot drove into Jem's head. The youth's neck snapped, and Tilla closed her eyes and struggled not to gag, not to faint.
Stars, oh stars. Her eyes stung and the world spun around her. Another death.
"You lot are nothing but maggots!" Beras shouted. "You think you can be soldiers? You can be dead! You will be fed to the cannons, and your flesh will rot in the fields. You are nothing! You will be nothing. You are worms and if any of you doubts it, I will crush you."
Tilla opened her eyes and looked at Mae. The girl was trembling. She bit her lip so hard blood trickled down her chin. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she whimpered.
"Hush!" Tilla warned. "Mae, you—"
"What's this?" Beras demanded. His boots thumped. Tilla turned to see him marching toward her, fists at his sides. Blood splashed his boots.
Tilla fell silent and straightened, standing as stiff as she could.
The stench of sweat and blood flared as Beras came to stand before her. Tilla was the tallest girl here, and taller than half the boys, but Beras towered above her; he made her feel small as a child. He thrust his head close, scrutinizing her, and his lips peeled back. His teeth were rotten, and his breath assailed her, scented of corpses.
"Well, well," the brute said. "Look at what we've got here. My, you're a tall one." He reached out. With rough fingers, he grabbed her throat and squeezed. Pain shot through her; it took all her will to suppress a gasp. "I like tall women."
Tilla dared not look into his eyes, but she stared at his forehead with all the strength she had in her. His fingers squeezed her tighter. She could barely wheeze. She managed to whisper through the pain.
"Shari Cadigus liked me too." Her breath rasped, but she kept staring at the spot between his eyes. "You remember. You were there."
Beras kept his hand around her throat, crushing her, and glared. He hissed and his breath blasted her face, and she nearly gagged at its rot. His beady eyes burned.
"Yes," he hissed. "I remember. You're that whore I grabbed in my claws. The Abyss knows what Shari saw in you. You look like nothing but a cheap harlot to me." He spat onto her boot. "Shari isn't here. You remember that. You remember that well. Over here, on this road, you are mine. What's your name?"
"Tilla Roper," she whispered, voice raspy.
He leaned closer. He whispered into her ear. "I'll be watching you, Roper. You are trouble. You make one wrong move, and you will envy that boy whose misery I ended. You I would not kill so quickly."
He released her, turned around, and kept trundling down the lines. Tilla allowed herself to gasp with pain. She sucked in air. Her throat ached and her head spun, and she could still smell his rot.
"Now get to bed!" Beras shouted. "We keep moving at dawn. Get some sleep, and if I see any worms crawl, I crush them."
With that, the brute stepped into a cart and slammed the door shut. One soldier began dragging Jem's body into the woods; the others entered the other carts, leaving the recruits outside in the clearing.
Nobody dared speak. Nobody even dared whimper or cry. Six hundred recruits lay down, glanced around, and huddled together.
Tilla lay on the hard, cold earth. The wind moaned and chilled her, and rain began to fall. She shivered and her belly ached; she had not eaten all day, and she didn't know when she'd eat next. The forest creaked around them, and the wolves kept howling.
Another death, Tilla thought, the blood dancing before her eyes. Another memory that will haunt me. Oh Rune. If you knew how bad it was, you'd have hid me under your tavern's floor with your old books.
Mae curled up at her side, and tears streamed down her cheeks. Though she had vowed to be strong, Tilla felt her own eyes dampen. Perhaps it was the death she had seen. Perhaps it was the cold, the hunger, or pain. Perhaps she simply missed home. But her own tears fell, and her own lips trembled. Here, in the dark night, she did not feel like a soldier, only like a young and frightened girl.
"Jem," Mae whispered at her side and shook, sobbing quietly.
Tilla wriggled closer to the girl. The rain fell upon them. Lying in the mud, Tilla embraced the baker's daughter. Mae wept against her shoulder, and Tilla shed her own silent tears. They held each other as rain fell, wolves howled, and the night wrapped around them like claws.
RUNE
They ran through the forest as the sky burned.
Smoke blazed in Rune's lungs. His chest ached from where Kaelyn's claws had clutched him. Branches slapped him and roots snagged at his feet. A green dragon, Kaelyn had crashed through the treetops a mile back; they had been running in human forms since, side by side.
A hundred dragons screamed above, soaring and swooping and tearing at trees. Their flames blazed across the sky in crisscrossing lines. Rain fell and smoke blew above the forest.
"Find them!" rose a shriek above. The blue dragon soared—Shari Cadigus blowing fire. "Bring them to me alive, or bring me their charred corpses, but find them!"
Rune snarled and kept running. His lungs blazed, his knees throbbed, and his chest felt ready to collapse. He looked at Kaelyn, who ran at his side. Sweat dampened her mane of golden hair, and mud covered her clothes. She ran with bared teeth, her eyes narrowed. Her sword clanked at her side, and her bow bounced across her back.
Rune looked up. The forest canopy was thick; he could barely glimpse the dragons between the branches. For now they were hidden, but how long would that last?
"Kaelyn, they will burn down the forest," he said. "You can't possibly outrun a hundred dragons, they—"
She glared at him. "They will not burn their empire. This is Shari Cadigus, and these are her lands; she still loves Requiem in her twisted way." She panted and wiped sweat off her brow, but kept running. "Keep your voice low."
&nbs
p; She scuttled over a boulder, climbing as deftly as a squirrel. Rune cursed and scrambled after her; she had to grab his wrist and pull him over. They ran down a hillside bumpy with roots. Vines tangled around Rune's feet, and a dragon swooped so low that he cursed and fell into the mud.
The dragon shrieked and roared fire skyward. Claws uprooted a tree. Rune cursed and ran aside, scurrying under the cover of an oak. Kaelyn ran at his side, and they raced between more trees. Fallen leaves and moss flew from under their boots.
"Tear down the trees!" Shari screamed above. Rune could not see her, but he heard her wings thud, and the trees bent as in a storm. "I can smell them. They cower below."
Rune cursed and panted. Sweat drenched him. He had been running for so long. He could run no longer. Perhaps he should surrender, should explain to Princess Shari that this was all a mistake; surely she was mistaking him for somebody else. He had nothing to do with Kaelyn or the Resistance. He was just Rune Brewer, and Kaelyn had tried to kidnap him, and he just wanted to go home.
Only there is no home anymore, he remembered, and his eyes stung. Shari burned it down. And she killed my father. And like it or not, I'm stuck with Kaelyn now.
"Kaelyn," he whispered between pants. "Kaelyn, where are—"
Her eyes lit up and she flashed a grin. "Here!"
She darted toward a mossy, twisting oak. Rune paused from running, and as soon as his legs stilled, pain bolted up them. His head spun and his chest felt full of fire.
Had Kaelyn gone mad? Rune had expected a camp full of warriors, or a hidden castle, or… not just a tree.
"Kaelyn!" he said and glanced skyward. Dragons streamed above the branches, dipping down to uproot trees. One beast grabbed a pine so close, Rune cursed and ducked. The roots yanked up, raining dirt and moss, less than a hundred feet away.
He looked back at Kaelyn. The young woman was scrambling around the tree, muttering curses and kicking the earth. She got down on her knees and began rummaging through the leaves.
"Stars damn it!" she said. "Come on, where are you—"
A dragon swooped fifty yards away. Another tree was uprooted and howls rose. The blue dragon dived above, wings bending the trees, and blew fire across the sky.
"They're near!" Shari howled. "I smell them. They're close! Tear up every tree."
Rune ducked and grasped a rock, as if tossing it could defeat dragons. He snarled and prepared to die.
"There!" Kaelyn whispered in triumph. She straightened, holding a rope that rose from the fallen leaves.
"Kaelyn, we need an army, not a rope—"
Before Rune could finish his sentence, Kaelyn yanked the rope, and a trapdoor opened upon the forest floor. Leaves and grass covered its top; below, a stairway led into darkness.
"Well, go on!" Kaelyn said. "Close your mouth and get down there."
Rune dutifully closed his mouth. Just as another dragon dived, he rushed forward, passed under the trapdoor, and leaped onto the staircase. Kaelyn jumped down beside him and tugged the trapdoor shut.
Before Rune could examine his new surroundings or even take another breath, thuds sounded in the forest above. Even through the trapdoor, Rune knew that sound: dragon claws landing in the forest. Flames crackled outside, wings flapped, and dragons screeched.
"They were here." Shari's shrill voice rose above. "I smell them. I see their prints. They ran here moments ago."
Great nostrils sniffed above, loud as a bellows. Kaelyn cursed and gripped her sword. With her other hand, she drew her dagger from her boot. For an instant, Rune thought she'd threaten him with the blade again. Then he saw that she was holding its hilt outward, offering it to him. Rune took the dagger and gripped it.
Shari screamed above, a sound of fury like storms and mountains cracking.
"Uproot every tree!" she cried. "Spread across this forest and find them. If you cannot, I will decimate you. Spread out! Find the whore and the boy."
With that, wings beat, fire crackled, and Shari's shrieks faded into the distance. The other dragons seemed to follow her.
Rune let out a shaky breath. He lowered his head, breathed raggedly, and tried to calm his thrashing heart. His muscles cramped, his breath sawed at his throat, and his skull felt too tight.
At his side, Kaelyn too breathed in relief. She wiped her brow again, only smearing sweat and mud across it. She released her grip on her sword.
"Come, Rune," she said. "Down the stairs and into the darkness. We're safe—for now." She managed a weak glare. "No thanks to you; you almost got us killed. You're more trouble than you're worth, if you ask me. From now on, you listen to me, and you follow my every order—no questions. Is that clear?"
He grumbled under his breath. "You sure have a way with people. But I'll listen to you for now, at least until I can rest and eat. You do have some food and drink squirreled away down here, right?"
She gave him a withering stare, then turned and began walking downstairs. He followed. The steps were dug into soil and rock, reinforced with planks of wood. Roots thrust out from the walls, and a family of mice huddled in a hole. The air was colder down here, and the place smelled of moss and soil.
After descending twenty steps, Kaelyn reached into an alcove dug into a wall. She produced two candles and a tinderbox.
"Here," she said and passed him a candle. "Hold this and do try not to set yourself on fire."
She opened the tinderbox and rubbed flint against steel. Sparks flew and Kaelyn lit their candles. The orange light flickered, and they kept descending.
The stairway led into a narrow tunnel. A wooden framework held the walls and ceiling; the floor was mere soil. The tunnel was so narrow it pushed against Rune's elbows. Kaelyn walked ahead and he followed silently. He wanted to pester Kaelyn for answers, but her talk of fire reminded him of that morning. The Old Wheel burning. The charred corpse of his father. Rune lowered his head and walked silently, candle in hand.
The tunnel took them to a round chamber; it was roughly the size of Rune's bedroom back at the Old Wheel. Kaelyn moved about the room, lighting more candles in alcoves. The light fell upon casks of wine, shelves of preserves and sausages, a rack of swords and bows, and chests of tunics and cloaks.
"Do you live here?" Rune asked.
"I live nowhere," she replied, not turning to look at him. "This is what we call a gopher hole. Stop—don't go looking around for gophers, you won't find any. It's just what we call these hideouts. They're safe places we can use when traveling."
She rummaged through a chest and produced some bandages. She closed the lid, sat upon it, and peeled back the rents on her legging. Grimacing, she examined the cut along her hip.
Rune knelt before her and reached for the bandages.
"Let me take a look," he said. "I know a bit of healing; I stitched a wound on Scraggles once."
She gave him a sidelong glance. "Scraggles?"
"You met him." He gave her a wan smile. "He barked at you."
She yanked the bandages away from him. "I will tend to my own wound, thank you. You go… go look at the swords or something. I hope you know how to use one." She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Of course you don't know how to use one. You were an innkeeper. I suppose that if Emperor Cadigus ever attacks us with a mug, you'll know how to clean it."
She began to tend to her wound, wincing. Rune grumbled and paced the chamber, this "gopher hole". He felt less like a gopher here and more like a trapped dragon; fire fumed inside him. His boots thumped against the earthen floor.
"You're right," he said. "You're right, Kaelyn, I'm no warrior. I don't know how to use a sword. And I've cleaned a lot of mugs in my day. I am an innkeeper and a brewer; that's all I want to be. You're the one who dragged me here at dagger-point. You're the one who got me into this mess." He stomped toward her, grabbed her shoulders, and glared at her. "Why, Kaelyn? Whatever feud you have with the Cadigus family, why did you drag me into it?"
She looked up from her wound and laughed mirthlessly. "Feud with the Cadigu
s family? Boy, did you not hear Shari call me her sister? I am the Cadigus family."
He frowned. He gave her a piercing stare, taking in her golden mane of hair, her feline features, and her sharp hazel eyes. Then he barked a laugh.
"You?" he said. "You are nothing like Shari Cadigus. Shari is… well, first of all, she's much taller than you. And she has dark hair and dark eyes. And, well… she's more of a warrior. You're kind of small and sneaky. Aren't the Cadiguses supposed to be big and tough and scary?"
Kaelyn glared at him. "I didn't say she was my twin sister. I have one twin already, a madman of a brother, and pray you never meet him. And no, I'm not like Shari. I'm not big, or tough, or particularly cruel." She sighed. "Why do you think I ran away?"
Rune stared at her with narrowed eyes.
Stars, he thought, she's serious.
He clutched his head.
This is bad.
He had heard of Kaelyn Cadigus, of course—the princess who had escaped the palace and joined the Resistance. But Kaelyn was a popular name, and somehow—with all the fire, running, and blood—Rune had not pieced things together.
His head spun.
"This is bad," he muttered. "Oh stars, this is bad." He pointed at her. "You are Kaelyn Cadigus."
She raised her hands to the heavens. "Stars bless us, he can be taught! What gave it away?"
Rune resumed pacing the room, tugging at his hair. He remembered that winter two years ago, the winter Kaelyn Cadigus was said to have escaped the capital, flown into the forest, and joined the rebellion against her father. Soldiers had stormed through every city, town, and farm in Requiem that season, tearing through homes, burning farms, torturing and killing and seeking the girl in every last hovel. They had never found her, but some whispered that Kaelyn Cadigus had risen high in the Resistance, ranking second only to Valien Eleison himself, the uprising's leader.
"Oh bloody stars," Rune said. "I'm here with Kaelyn Cadigus. No wonder they were hunting me. They must have seen you sneak into my tavern. Stars, woman, you're the most wanted soul in Requiem, do you know that?"
She gave him a wry smile. "No, Rune, I'm not the most wanted soul in Requiem—maybe second or third. Most wanted? My dear boy, that honorable distinction goes to you."
A Legacy of Light (The Dragon War, Book 1) Page 7
