Resistance (Ilyon Chronicles Book 1) (31 page)

Giving in to the voice of condemnation and surrender, Jace stopped fighting. Caught between the brothers, he took the full impact of Brody’s next blow just under the ribs. He doubled over with a gasp. Behind him, Tyra snarled and charged toward them.

“No, Tyra, back,” he ground out. “Stay back!”

All his bulky weight behind the swing, Brody delivered another blow to Jace’s jaw. Pain lanced through his skull and his blood burned hotter, but he refused to act on it this time.

Brody took full advantage of the lack of struggle. Jace’s breaths soon came in short pants as the air was forced from his lungs by fist blows. Blood flowed down his chin from his nose and lips. Despite his surrender to the unrelenting attack, some small seed of stubbornness remained, and he stayed on his feet longer than most would have. But, eventually, his legs buckled underneath him, and he found himself on his back in the leaves, mind foggy, squinting up at the hazy figures.

Brody’s face appeared only a foot away from his own, and the young man’s knee pressed hard into his battered chest. Jace gasped, unable to draw more than small, painful breaths. Brody grabbed his collar.

“You don’t come back, half-blood. Understand?”

He pushed up and away. Searing pain knifed through Jace’s chest as Brody gave him one final kick in the ribs. He grasped at his side and a small groan escaped him. With sneers and cruel laughter echoing in their wake, the Korvic brothers wandered off. Jace lay still as his mind faded in and out. The burning in his blood abandoned him now to pulsing waves of pain. He struggled for air and choked on the blood trickling down the back of his throat. Why couldn’t his body just die?

Leaves crunched near his head. He forced his eyes open. A black shape filled his vision, and a wet nose nudged his chin.

“Tyra,” he breathed, though his lips barely moved.

She faded away again, and he lost all sense. He had no knowledge of how much time passed or if he even remained conscious, but sometime later, he opened his eyes and things cleared. Life still clung to him, though he didn’t welcome it. Every breath came with a protest from his throbbing ribs. He winced, his face tight and swollen, and tipped his head to his left and right. The area was abandoned. Only the trees witnessed his struggle.

Slowly, he pushed himself upright and locked his teeth together to keep from groaning. He wrapped his arms around his bruised ribs and
took another look around.

“Tyra,” he called, but his voice only croaked.

He grimaced at the unpleasant thickness of blood in his mouth. He spit into the leaves, which caused his lip to bleed again. The faint trickling of water whispered to him from somewhere nearby.

He gathered his strength and pushed to his feet. His legs wobbled at first, and he almost went back to his knees, head swimming. But the dizziness cleared, and he staggered toward the sound of water. After stumbling a few yards, he reached a small stream and collapsed to his knees on the mossy bank. In his quivering reflection, he took in his bloodied face and the bruises darkening under his eyes. He reached into the stream and brought cold water to his face. It ignited pain in his nerves, and he sucked in his breath, but once it died away, the water soothed the pulsating cuts and swelling.

“Jace!”

He looked over his shoulder. Rayad, Warin, and Trask rushed toward him. Tyra led the way. She arrived first and nosed his dripping face. He lifted his hand to pet her head wearily.

Rayad reached him a moment later and knelt on his other side. At first, Jace tried to hide his face, but one glance at Rayad provided enough for the older man to see everything.

“What happened?”

Jace shook his head. “Nothing.”

Rayad’s voice was rough, just as it had been that day in Kinnim’s jailhouse. “Don’t tell me ‘nothing.’”

Jace pushed back to his feet, though his legs wobbled. Rayad gripped his arm to steady him, but Jace pulled away and came face to face with Warin and Trask. They both winced at the sight of his injuries, and Trask asked, “Who did this?”

Jace moved away from them. What did it matter who did it?
There were an endless number of men who would have liked to do the same thing. There always would be.

“Was it Holden?”

Jace glanced over his shoulder. “No.”

Silence fell behind him. Rayad was the first to move as he came to his side.

“Let’s get you back to camp and make sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine.”

“You could have broken ribs or something.”

“I don’t,” Jace said through his teeth. He didn’t want to be
fussed over, or pitied, or pressed for answers. He could take care of himself and his own affairs. But Rayad’s frustrated sigh made him pause.

“Let’s at least get you cleaned up.”

Jace touched his still-bleeding lip and reluctantly followed him to camp. It was the last place he wanted to be, but he couldn’t refuse Rayad completely. When they arrived, whispers and murmurs of his condition spread ahead of them, though it was hard to tell if they held more than surprise.

Warin went to get water, and Rayad set up a small stool just outside their tent. Jace sank down slowly and let his breath seep
out. He glanced around camp at the many eyes watching him and turned his face away. It had been a mistake to come back. He’d been the object of an audience enough times already. He almost pushed up to walk away, but Rayad spoke first.

“Jace, we need to know what happened.”

Jace looked up at him, setting his teeth stubbornly, and winced at the pain that shot through his jaw. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? What would it change to talk about it?

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” Trask stressed. “I will not tolerate this sort of thing in camp.”

But Jace remained silent.

Trask clenched his fists, and a tremor passed through his forearm. So much for his sense of pride this morning. He’d expected his men to see the error in their ways, but they’d only let him down further, and enough was enough. To have them beat a man under his protection was unacceptable, and he would get to the bottom of it one way or another.

He turned and strode into the center of camp, his voice rising with his tension. “Everyone gather up, now.”

The men assembled around him and passed looks back and forth. In all these months, he’d never had reason to address them like this, and he loathed the need. They were good men who had let preconceived notions and fears get the best of them. But this couldn’t continue or happen again if they were going to succeed here. He turned slowly in a circle and let silence reign for a moment as the men fidgeted under his gaze.

“One or more of you is responsible for beating up Jace. I don’t know who yet, but I will find out, I guarantee it.” He shook his head. “I’m ashamed this has happened. This isn’t who we are, men,” he said, hoarse with disappointment, “or what we stand for. This isn’t what we believe. What I’ve witnessed here in the last few days is shameful. This camp is supposed to be a refuge. A place of safety and aid. I thought you all agreed with me, but here you are shunning and bullying one of our own. Well, I’ll have no more of it.
If any of you still wishes harm on Jace or anyone else who comes into this camp…
you can leave.”

He paused to let the weight of these words sink in and make sure every man fully understood his position. Most had their heads bowed in shame. He caught Mick’s eye, and the other man jerked his head to the right. Trask’s gaze landed on Brody. The young man faced slightly away from him, but not enough to conceal the redness under one eye.

“Brody!”

The young man glanced up and confirmed Trask’s observations. He marched up to him and demanded, “What happened to your eye?”

Brody opened his mouth. “I…” He glanced at his brothers.

“That’s what I thought,” Trask said in a low voice before Brody could come up with an excuse. “I’m ashamed of you three. Obviously, you’re bored. Very bored.”

Brody tried to protest, but Trask spoke over him.

“Fortunately, I know just how to counter that. We need a well. I want you to dig one. And after that, we need cabins.
Lots of cabins. You will help with the one going up now. Then you will get to work on the next one, and after that, the next one, and the next one, until I decide we have enough. Do you understand?”

“But what about hunting?” Brody scrambled for a way out. “The men need to eat.”

Of course they would want to avoid manual labor and spend all day in the woods. He wondered how much time they had actually spent in search of game.

“I’ll worry about the hunting. Now get to work on that well.”

Brody hesitated. The rebellious light in his eyes warned of an argument, but Trask wouldn’t have it.

“You will follow my orders or you will leave camp.”

Grumbling, Brody turned with his brothers and trudged off to get to work. Trask glared after them with no intention of letting them off easily for what they’d done. Not them or anyone else. He turned and his gaze encompassed the rest of the men.

“Remember what I’ve said.”

With a nod to Mick, he walked back to Jace and Rayad as the group dispersed behind him.

“I’m sorry about Brody and his brothers,” he told them, though Jace didn’t look up. “They’ve always been trouble. Personally, I’d rather not have them in camp, but I allow it for their mother’s sake. In the village, it would only be a matter of time before Goler arrested them for one reason or another.”

However, if they continued to act up, he might have no choice but to send them away. Such maliciousness would only poison camp and destroy his vision for providing a place of refuge.

By evening, Jace’s whole body ached as though a herd of horses had trampled over him. He hadn’t taken such a beating in years. He passed the afternoon on the outskirts of camp, resting, but never able to relax. No matter where he went, he sensed someone watching him. It seemed he’d become even more of a spectacle now that he was injured. When night fell and he’d forced down the supper Rayad offered him, he ducked into the tent. He hissed out a breath as he bent over and gathered up his bedroll. Just outside, Rayad met him with a questioning look.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to sleep in the forest. I’ll just wake everyone up again if I stay here.” The dreams were escalating, and he wouldn’t risk waking camp with another outcry. He’d suffered enough humiliation for one day.

“You don’t know that.”

Jace just stared at him. He had no reason to hope for the best.

“Then I’ll go with you,” Rayad decided. “There’s probably an extra tent we can use.”

“No,” Jace said abruptly, but winced at the harshness of his own voice. He softened his tone. “I’ll be fine.”

He set off into the trees before Rayad could respond.

The shadowed forest engulfed him until the light from camp had disappeared and he came to the stream he’d found earlier. On the bank, he dropped his bedroll, but did not spread it out. He sank down next to it, and Tyra lay beside him. He glanced at his reflection in the water. His dark features were shadowed except for his eyes. They shone bright blue, absorbing the moonlight.
Unnatural
. They were animal eyes.