‘He can’t die from old age or sickness. Only if he’s wounded.’
Altor watched her for a long moment. Every second he spent with her, he admired her courage more. Taking a breath, he thought about his silent vow never to get involved in other people’s problems. Gods, he never usually wanted anything to do with anyone else unless they were offering him a drink or a warm bed at night. However, something drove him to speak.
‘How,’ he asked softly, watching her face, ‘can you love someone so blindly, when everything in the world points to the fact that you shouldn’t?’
Startled, she looked into his eyes. ‘I don’t...’
He smiled without any humour and covered her hand gently with his. ‘Do you want to head back now?’
She sighed, shaking her head. ‘How long are you going to stay here, Al?’
He shrugged. ‘I haven’t thought about it.’
‘Isn’t there anything you need to go home for? Any
one?
’
Altor smiled darkly. ‘I’ve made sure that there isn’t.’
‘Why?’
‘Is that question truly so difficult?’
She met his eyes as she realised the answer. ‘You distance yourself from everyone because you’ll be gone soon, is that it?’
Altor smiled coldly. ‘You’ve put it more bluntly than anyone has ever dared. Thank you for the refreshing honesty.’
‘There must be a way to stop this, Altor,’ she said, her eyes blazing. ‘I’ll help you find it, I promise.’
‘Don’t waste your breath with promises. I’m more than happy to be gone from this miserable place sooner than the rest of you.’
‘That’s a horrible thing to say, and I don’t believe a word of it.’
‘Suit yourself,’ he shrugged, looking away from her.
‘Do you get the feeling that there’s something wrong?’ she said after a pause.
Altor smiled bitterly. ‘Only one thing?’
‘Stop, Al. I mean in Paragor. Something unusual.’
‘Well the Valkyries...’
‘I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about ... everything. It all just seems to be going downhill.’
‘Cornelius is old and senile.’
‘But it’s not just him! Where was Accolon when all this was happening? Has he set up a proper defence force? And what is he doing about this slave trade I’ve been hearing about? It just seems to me like there is an awful lot of chaos, and no one is doing anything.’
Altor stared at the figures below, his mind whirling. She was right. And he’d never given it a thought.
He swallowed. This girl was not about make him start caring about things that had nothing to do with him.
Altor shrugged. ‘Well I can’t think of anyone more suited to changing things than the mighty Bright Ones.’
Jane sighed. ‘Ah. That’s right. The expectations. That’s one thing I could gladly live without.’
‘Trust me. I know what you’re talking about.’
‘The curse of royalty,’ she sighed.
He grinned. ‘And the prophesised.’ Jane laughed softly. ‘Tell me how you know me,’ he said suddenly. ‘Tell me how it’s possible for you to miss someone you don’t know. What are you hiding from me, Jane?’
The smile was still at her lips ‘I know it’s hard,’ she murmured, ‘not understanding why we have a connection, but you aren’t ready to know just yet. I promise I’ll explain one day.’
Altor sighed grumpily and her smile widened.
Without realising, because her eyes always seemed to gravitate back to him, she glanced down into the arena and saw Fern, his arms wrapped around Athena, kissing her passionately on the lips. It caused a kind of chasm in her chest. Like everything inside her was dropping away and there was nothing left except an aching wound.
She stepped back away from the edge. Altor saw what she had been looking at, and his own body ached for her.
‘Jane, hey, it’s okay,’ he tried, but she kept backing away.
She’d not yet cried, hadn’t shed a single tear over Fern, had told herself that she never would. But now, unstoppable tears streamed down her pale face.
‘It’s never going to stop hurting,’ she said and Altor’s own face creased in pain. He wanted to hold her, but he didn’t know if he should, nor how to. ‘And now that I’ve started I’m never going to be able to stop crying,’ she said shakily, trying to laugh. ‘I spend every night willing myself not to shed a tear,’ she whispered, wiping her eyes. ‘How ridiculous is that?’
Altor stepped towards her, but Jane just shook her head and walked down the steps, out of his reach.
There was going to be a raid. Bayard’s knights had been ordered on another mission against Followers in a bar in Luglio, a town on the coast between Torr and Karangul. Luckily it had dream protectors, or else Bayard would have never agreed to go there at night. All were to be captured and taken to the dock, where they would be dropped into the hands of the men running the secret detention camps for Followers.
If only Bayard knew the truth. It was no mission to stop those who wished to rebel in the name of Leostrial. It was a raid for the slave trade, and Vezzet was going to get a substantial amount of coin for the delivery.
Vezzet sat behind his desk and polished the wooden hand he’d lost to the snake of a woman, Satine. He smiled to himself. It was all too easy. He had control of one of the world’s best army generals. Bayard was doing all his dirty work, completely unawares. And if Accolon ever decided he needed to involve himself in the affairs of Cynis Witron, well then, Vezzet had an entire army to fight for him, an entire army of men who thought they were fighting for their country. It was delicious.
Soon, Vezzet would have enough money to start paying his mercenaries more, and then all the men in the world would want to join Karangul. Then, once he’d destroyed the Valkyries, he would take control of Paragor with laughable ease.
Bayard was giving his knights the brief. ‘We enter and surround the men—they need to be secured before the women. Tie each person and make sure they’re a good body-length apart from each other. Don’t manhandle the women unless it is necessary—it will anger the men and cause more work. No speaking to any of them—they will try to convince you of their innocence. Do not forget these people are scum.’ There was an expression of disgust on Bayard’s face. ‘We want to take them cleanly this time. There will be no orders to kill. Get armoured and be ready in an hour.’
His men were ready in under an hour so they rode early, the Captain on his stunning black mare, and his knights with their fierce hearts.
It was evening by the time they arrived at Luglio and stopped outside the bar. One man, Evan, scouted the inside and came out again quickly.
‘About thirty people inside. Mostly men. A few serving women.’
Bayard nodded. He looked at each of his knights. Thirty men meant more than a few weapons. So the knights would be relying on their skill, and the element of surprise. He had confidence, but there were no guarantees they would all come out alive.
Captain Adon Bayard grinned, his teeth flashing in the darkness. He looked into the sky, and then he spoke the same words he used each time they set off on a mission, the words that never failed to send shivers of excitement down the spines of his men.
‘It’s a nice night to die, boys.’
And with that he led them inside, swords raised. Screams and the sound of steel on steel sliced through the air; chaos, but that was to be expected.
It had barely begun, however, before Bayard stopped, his sword raised. Something caught his eye, a glimpse
of the side of a face. His knights halted behind him, waiting to see what he was doing, and the entire tavern seemed to freeze, breaths held, not understanding what was happening.
‘Adon?’ a woman gasped, standing up from her seat.
‘Ria? What are you doing here?’ Bayard rasped.
‘I am eating with my friend! What are you doing here?’ She looked with horror at his sword.
‘I...’ the captain tried, but chaos broke loose once more. Bayard leapt towards Ria, thinking to drag her away from danger. He failed to see the flash of movement, right before something slammed into his body.
The breath was knocked out of him as he was pummelled to the ground. The next thing that happened astounded him. Bayard was a big man—solid and muscular—but whoever had driven him to the floor was now lifting him up by his shirt collar and carrying him outside as if he was naught but a child. The man threw him to the ground, placing a heavy boot on Bayard’s neck, holding him in place.
The captain looked up, sucking air into his lungs and trying to understand how someone could have such strength. In the darkness it was hard to make out the man’s face; plus he seemed to be wearing a hood.
‘What in hell are you doing?’ Bayard spat.
‘It would be far more appropriate to be asking you the same thing, scum,’ the man told him calmly. Bayard had heard that voice before.
Ria came running outside and was looking between the two men. ‘What’s going on?’ she exclaimed. ‘Luca—don’t hurt him!’
Luca. The Bright One. All the air left Bayard’s lungs again, like a tidal wave rushing from his body.
If this was a Bright One, then there was no chance that this could be a Follower’s bar.
‘Tell me what you’re doing here,’ Luca ordered, and there was that same eerie calm in his voice.
‘We at Karangul had word that this was a Follower’s bar. And we came to eradicate it. I must have been very mistaken...’
‘Indeed,’ Luca murmured, his voice whispering out of the cloak. ‘Vezzet sent you on those grounds? Followers?’
‘Yes, my lord. We were to take everyone here to a detention centre for correction,’ he said with a growl. Luca looked at him a moment longer and then removed his foot. Bayard winced, rubbing his neck and climbing to his feet.
‘There were no Followers at the last three bars you have raided,’ Luca said. ‘There is no use in lying, Captain. I know you have been selling your victims into the slave trade.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
Luca drew back his hood and gave him a measured stare, his eyes hauntingly empty. ‘Captain, each one of your raids has been in the name of slavery. The men and women have been sold over the seas. There is no such correction centre, and your master, Vezzet, is the last person in the world who would be funding such activities—he is a Follower himself, and always has been. How you could be so ignorant to the ways of the world? Unless, of course, you’re a little slow.’
Bayard was silent. Finally, after running his hand through his hair several times, he looked at the Stranger ‘Maybe I am. For I certainly did not know that I have been raiding innocent people for the slave trade. If I had known the truth—’
‘You are quick to trust someone you’ve met once,’ Luca said, eyebrows raised.
‘You are a Bright One,’ Bayard said simply. If there is
anyone in this world more set against Followers, I have not heard of them. There was once a time when I was suspicious of my own actions, but Vezzet assured me what I was doing was right. I was a fool to be netted by such lies.’
‘You are not the only one Vezzet has caught,’ Luca conceded, less harshly. ‘He’s a master of deceit. You need to call off your men and let these people go.’
Bayard’s jaw clenched tightly as he nodded.
‘Come with us, Adon,’ Ria said. ‘You don’t need to go back to him. You could serve the king instead.’
Ria had told him, when they first met, that she did not trust Vezzet. He hadn’t listened to her.
‘It is with deepest regret that I must return to him,’ Bayard said heavily.
‘What?’ Ria exclaimed. ‘He lied! He’s betrayed you!’
‘Yes, and he will pay dearly for that. But I made a deal with him a long time ago, and I cannot go back on my word. There is something ... you can have no knowledge of, something that happened a very long time ago, and it will not allow me to leave. But it may be the very thing that enables me to change him, if anyone can.’
‘Change him?’ Ria spat. ‘How could you be so naïve? He will never change!’
They didn’t understand. But it didn’t matter. He had his own reasons, and he certainly had his fair share of guilt. It would be his actions alone that could save him now. He said softly, his voice deadly. ‘I swear on the soul of my dead father, I will make this right.’
Luca nodded before disappearing back into the tavern, and Bayard sensed that the young man had looked into the words, and beyond them. Shivering slightly, the captain turned and walked away.
She had said his name without thinking of the implications. A kind of knee-jerk reaction, a cry torn from her chest. Now Ria followed him from the tavern, wreathed in confusion, into the strangely fresh night. The cold air of late winter felt wrong against her skin—it was too calming after what had happened. She was very aware that she and Luca had come close to dying inside. It made her feel off balance, like she was walking through air thick with uncertainty.
He was standing next to his beautiful horse, running his hands slowly through her mane. He looked subdued, or perhaps even sad. He turned to her in the dark and she could only make out his silhouette, plus a hint of the red in his hair, glinting in the moonlight.
‘What the hell is going on?’ she asked, hot with anger. When he spoke, she knew she had been wrong. He was not sad, or subdued—he was furious.
‘You heard what was said,’ he growled.
‘I told you he was not to be trusted!’ she said, barely keeping her voice from a scream. ‘But you refused to listen! I don’t understand, Adon. Why work for him?’
‘I have to.’ he snapped. ‘Just leave it, Ria. You’re better off not knowing me.’ He turned back to mount his horse.
‘Perhaps that’s true!’ she yelled after him.
Ria del Torr stood in the dark street outside the tavern, watching the horse disappear into the dark. A thought flashed unbidden to her mind, of how neither she nor Luca had ever tried to find each other after the battle. They had given up, and look where that had led.
Ria clenched her teeth and ran around the tavern to her horse. She and Luca had ridden to Luglio for a simple meal—little did she expect for this to happen! Gripping the reins, she charged up the cobblestones and into the darkness.
Glancing into the sky, she knew it wasn’t far to the edge of the dream protectors, but she was certain Adon wouldn’t go beyond them at night.
Ria pushed on down the road in the direction of Karangul, a kind of madness overtaking her as she headed fast towards the glittering threads. She was not at all prepared for him to be standing on the side of the road, just inside the dream protectors, staring up at the night sky. She almost charged straight past him, but something made her look down in that last instant to see his eyes shining up at her.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked, reigning her horse hard.
‘What are
you
doing?’ he asked, anger still clear in his voice.
‘Looking for you! Honestly, Adon, this is stupid!’ She dismounted from the agitated horse and stopped in front of him. They were in a field filled with wild flowers, unploughed and beautiful, with soft grass as high as their waists. The two moons were bright in the sky, and music was drifting from the town behind them. The music capitol of the world, she knew.
The threads were awfully close, and through the twinkle of the moonlight they could both make out the flickering shadows trying to get in.
‘I didn’t know the man well, Adon,’ she said, taking a breath, ‘I only spoke with him once or twice. But what Vezzet did was so awful that I can hate him for all the others. Why can’t you do the same?’
‘You cannot bend everyone to your will, Ria,’ Adon said through clenched teeth.
‘I’m not trying to—I just don’t understand! I can’t let you ride away and leave this as it is,’ she tried, her anger waning. ‘I know there’s something going on beyond what I understand.’
It was so dark, away from the lights of the town. The blue moon, Jael, passed behind a cloud, so that Lindel shone even brighter and they were wreathed in an eerie red mist. Bayard lowered his head and looked at his horse.
‘I’ve seen that horse somewhere,’ Ria murmured, distracted.
‘She had a life before me,’ he said quietly, stroking her mane. His red hair was even brighter in the moonlight. ‘Perhaps you met her.’
Bayard mounted up again. ‘I was waiting for my men,’ he said briskly, ‘but I suppose I must fetch them.’
‘They’ll come,’ she said firmly. ‘You have a moment to listen to me. I want you to know that I hate what you’re doing. I hate that man, and I hate what he stands for but I do not hate ... you.’
‘You do not hate me?’ he asked slowly. ‘In the name of Freyja, what a confession!’ he growled.
‘Look, Adon. I’ve done this before with a man I cared for. We just let go. I don’t want that to happen now.’
He looked at her, expressionless. ‘That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You don’t want the same thing to happen again, because it would mean that you’ve failed twice. You’ve been comparing me to him the whole time. Do not bother lying—I see it at every turn. Every look you give him—you’re like an open book.’
Ria felt sick. Why was he saying these things? And how had this turned from a question of who Bayard worked for, into how Ria felt about Luca? ‘You’re wrong,’ she said, her voice breaking slightly.
‘Prove it. Make me believe you,’ he said, unwavering in his severity.
‘I came out here to tell you I don’t want to just give up. I was going to ride out of the protectors to find you! Isn’t that proof enough?’
‘It’s proof only that you have fevered blood running through your veins—something I have known all along. Explain to me what you do not want to give up.’
Ria shook her head, flushed. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘I’m leaving right now unless you speak something worth the breath it takes to say!’ He was almost shouting now, and she was shocked by the suddenness of his temper.
‘It’s not so easy for me. What more do you want from me?’ she asked as a sudden urge to cry came upon her.
The night seemed very still as he considered the question. Eventually Adon shrugged and sighed. ‘I don’t know. I’ve a foolish, greedy heart.’ He shook his head dismissively. ‘Listen, Ria. I don’t know what this is, nor what you want it to be, but it just cannot work. Not after what has happened, after what I’ve learnt. I have to focus my energy on other things. You know that.’
She looked at him and felt a sudden pain in her chest. Not because she was reminded of another man. But because when she looked at Adon, she thought about
him,
and the simple closeness of him made her happy.
In all the names of the gods, how had she let this happen
again?