Resistance (Ilyon Chronicles Book 1) (66 page)

 

 

Trask stepped forward with the soldiers, his eyes traveling over the faces of the villagers, most of whom he knew by name. Old childhood friends he had run off to the woods
with, and the older women who’d treated him so kindly after his mother died. Goler was a beast for making them watch this.

He looked over at the captain and glared at him, tempted to throw his shackled hands around his throat. He still hadn’t decided if he wanted to go out with dignified acceptance or die fighting.

His gaze returned to the people. Some aching part of him wished to find Anne among them, just to see her face once more, but he didn’t want her here. Not for this. He lifted his eyes to his father, who sat on his horse at the edge of the crowd with a handful of soldiers hovering suspiciously around him. Seeing his father’s ashen face and ill-concealed emotions turned Trask’s stomach inside out. He gave the barest shake of his head. If his father tried anything, then Goler would win, and the people would suffer. They would need his leadership now more than ever. And for this reason, in the end, Trask would not fight, because if he fought, his father would too.

Goler stepped up beside him and locked his shoulder in a painful grip. Leaning closely, he murmured in his ear, “Time to watch you die.”

He kicked Trask’s legs, sending him to his knees. A hushed whimper came from more than one person in the crowd. Trask looked out at them again. If only he could leave them a few words of encouragement, but that would just further mark them as potential rebels. Right now, the more removed he was from them, the better, though it hurt worse than Goler’s torture.

The captain’s hand gripped the back of his neck and forced him down against the block. He swallowed roughly against the wood. The sensation of it pressed to his throat shot icy jolts through his nerves. His heart took up an irregular beat while beside him, the executioner’s sword slid out of the scabbard. When he tried to swallow again, his throat was too tight. He closed his eyes and whispered, “I’m ready to meet You, Lord.”

 

 

Jace scrambled up the ladder into the barn loft and sprinted across the straw-littered floor. Grabbing his bow, he pushed open the loft door, and the sight below him stole his breath. The executioner stood over Trask with his sword raised. Jace’s hand flew to his quiver. He nocked, drew, and released without even pausing to contemplate a miss. The arrow sliced the air and slammed into the executioner’s chest. The man gave a loud grunt and toppled off the wagon.

Half a second of stillness, and then pandemonium. Shouts and screams rose from the crowd as the soldiers unsheathed their swords. Goler looked about, and his eyes landed on Jace. Teeth bared, he whipped out his sword and swung at Trask. But Jace had a second arrow on the way. It plunged high into Goler’s left shoulder and halted his attack. He screamed, grabbing at the wound, but blinding anger overcame the pain. He raised his sword again. This time, Trask rolled off the wagon before the blade could find him.

In the mass of confusion and scurrying villagers, someone grabbed Trask from the ground and dragged him up. Warin. Jace scanned the panicking crowd. The rest of the men worked their way toward escape, but the soldiers were on to them.

He spun around and climbed down the ladder. On the ground again, he put his bow over his head and shoulder and yanked out his sword. Metal clashed close by and echoed amongst shouts and cries. Jace dashed out of the barn and nearly collided with a soldier. The man swung at his head. Jace ducked and sliced the soldier’s legs, leaving him writhing and cursing while he rushed into the fray.

The villagers had scattered for cover, while most in the rescue group found themselves embroiled in battle with Goler’s men. Jace threw down another soldier who blocked his path and ran to Rayad, who was with Warin and Trask. Warin called out to the men and motioned them toward their escape. They were close now, if they could just break away and get to the horses.

Then someone fell.

Holden crashed to the ground, his shoulder oozing blood and his sword out of reach. He tried to rise, but the soldier kicked him back down and raised his sword. Jace broke from the group and sprinted back to help. He threw his sword blade into the path of the soldier’s. Metal shrieked on impact, driving Jace’s sword into the ground, but both blades missed Holden.

The soldier was quick. His sword came up in an instant, straight for Jace’s throat. As Jace jumped back, the tip of the blade narrowly missed his neck and nicked his shoulder. Fire pulsed
through his limbs, but a swift and powerful counterstrike left the soldier unarmed and bleeding heavily from a deep wound to his arm.

Jace grabbed Holden by the jerkin, hauled him to his feet, and guided him toward the others. They were the last two to join their group. The soldiers converged to cut off their escape, but they dashed through the narrow gap and raced away from the village. When Jace glanced back, a couple of soldiers were in pursuit, but most scrambled for their horses. They reached their own mounts without a second to spare. Hoof beats pounded behind them as Jace swung up onto Niton’s back.

The group sent their horses into a gallop, riding hard across country, but the soldiers kept pace. Jace looked back again. This chase would be the doom of their rescue. Already tired from the ride to the village, their horses would never outlast the soldiers’ fresher mounts. Niton’s deep, snorting pants confirmed this. They couldn’t keep the pace long, let alone widen the gap to make an escape. If Goler were to capture all of them, there would be no one left at camp to lead it as Trask intended. It could all fall apart. Then Kyrin would have no place to go. Not unless something slowed the soldiers.

A steady rise lay ahead of them. Eyes set on it, Jace lifted his bow from his shoulder. If he failed, he would become the first to fall back into Goler’s hands, but
a calm settled inside him. Regardless of what happened to him, the others needed this chance.

At the top of the rise, he pulled Niton to a skidding halt and spun the stallion around. Dropping the reins, he reached for an arrow. The first soldier up the hill took the projectile to the chest and toppled out of the saddle. Fitting a second arrow, Jace fired in a rush with another rider almost upon him. It grazed the man’s side. He jerked on the reins, and his horse lost its footing, rolling over on top of him and almost taking out the third rider. Jace set his sights on him with a third arrow already drawn. The soldier stopped a few feet below him while the other eleven pranced at the bottom of the hill.

Their eyes locked. The soldier slowly raised his hand, his expression one of pleading. The bowstring slipped a little, but Jace held it. Backing down a couple of steps, the soldier turned his horse in a hasty retreat. The others followed his example. Jace held his bow until his arm started to shake and then lowered it. By now, the fleeing hoof beats were fading away into the distance.

Quiet settled around him. He sank back in his saddle with a sigh and hung his head, catching his breath. Taking up the reins again, he turned Niton around and rode on to catch up with the others.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

K
yrin carefully cleaned the deep cut to Kaden’s finger and wrapped a thin strip of bandages around it. He barely seemed to notice, intent on devouring the plate of rolls and cheese wedges Lenae had set before him. Kyrin looked across the table where the other woman was bandaging Trev’s badly bruised chest. She winced, but at least he could rest now and give his ribs a chance to mend. Her eyes shifted to Tane, who stood at the door peering out at camp. She drew a nervous breath. Her heavily thumping heart kept tricking her into thinking she heard horses.

“I’m sure they’ll be all right.”

Her attention returned to her brother and his encouraging half smile. If they weren’t both sitting, she’d hug him again. She attempted a small smile of her own, but every minute of waiting was torture. Praying with all her might, she finished up with Kaden’s injuries.

Ten minutes later, Tane’s voice sent a jolt of energy through her. “They’re here.”

She froze, not quite prepared for what news might await. But the desperation to know propelled her to her feet, and she dashed out of the cabin after Tane. The riders gathered near the corral, and Kyrin did a rapid head count. The moment she saw Trask and realized that no one was missing, her breath rushed out of her lungs, and she ran the remaining distance.

Most of the men had dismounted by now. Trask climbed out of the saddle slowly, but very much alive, and
Warin assisted Holden, whose sleeve and side were stained with blood. Kyrin caught a glimpse of red on Jace’s shoulder, but everyone else appeared unharmed.

“You made it,” she breathed.

Trask turned to her with a weary, yet bright smile. “We did.” He nodded over his shoulder. “Thanks to Jace.”

Her eyes shifted to him, as did a few others. He looked at them in surprise, but then ducked his head and focused on Niton. A slow smile feathered across Kyrin’s lips.

Warin came up behind Trask and put his hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get those chains off you and get you and Holden inside to Lenae.”

The three of them walked toward the cabin while the rest of the men cared for the horses. Kyrin lingered behind and approached Jace, running her hand down Niton’s face as she watched him loosen the saddle.

“You’ll have to tell me what you did.”

He glanced at her and shook his head. “It was nothing.”

She traded a look with Rayad as he passed by. Maybe Jace wouldn’t tell her, but Rayad would. Her focus drifted over to Lenae’s cabin. The woman had come out and had just released Trask from her embrace with a beautiful smile on her face. Kaden stood in the cabin doorway behind her. The sight brought an instant rush of moisture to Kyrin’s eyes, and she struggled for a full breath.

“Are you all right?”

She turned her head around. Jace’s brilliant blue eyes regarded her with almost grave concern. With a wobbly smile, her lungs freed up a bit.

“It just hit me
…it’s over. Kaden’s here, and for now…we’re all safe.”

 

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