Silent Kingdom (21 page)

“I’m sorry,” Jennah whispered. “You have to understand that I am particular about whom I permit to attend our meetings.”

I offered her a small smile. “I understand.”

After the meal, Kam took the girls to bed, and I helped Jennah clear the table and wash the dishes.

“You’ll want to get some sleep,” Jennah said as she handed me a final plate to dry. “We hold our meetings in the middle of the night. I’ll draw water for a bath so you can wash before bed.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, already imagining the hot water massaging my tired legs and feet.

After bathing and changing into the clean nightgown Jennah had left for me, I tried my best to curl up under the blankets in her daughters’ narrow bed, but found myself staring at the ceiling. After two restless nights in a tent, I was sure a comfortable mattress would afford me rest, but my thoughts and worries would not.

Giver of Gifts, how can my words be a gift…? What am I supposed to do? You saved my life; you gave me these words and visions…but what am I supposed to do with them?

I wondered if Jennah fully trusted me, what she thought of a teenager traveling through Evren Forest to Misroth City on her own. Several times I considered abandoning my plan of anonymity and revealing who I was to the rebellion during the meeting. But why would they believe me, unless they recognized me, and why would they trust me more as their princess, the daughter of their enemy, than as an ordinary girl? Besides, despite my faith in Marke and my hopes for the rebellion, I couldn’t fully trust any of the rebels any more than they could trust me. No, I would keep my original plan and conceal my identity, at least a while longer.

At last I drifted off, but it seemed only a few minutes later there were soft knocks on my door. Jennah peered in, and seeing me sitting up in bed, whispered, “It’s time. Come join us.”

Once I’d dressed, I grasped my bow and slung my quiver on my back out of habit before following her downstairs, through the shadowy shop, and through the back room. Standing at the head of the stairway, she turned to me, the light of the candle dancing on her face and illuminating dark circles under her eyes, ones I hadn’t noticed in the daylight. She glanced down at my bow, but made no comment about it. “I don’t know what someone as young as you has to do with the movement against the king, but for now, I’d advise you to stay quiet.”

Biting my lip, I nodded.
That is what I am good at.

Jennah turned and led me down the steps, a faint scent of mildew mixed with the rich aroma of dirt enveloping us as we descended. In the crammed cellar, with dim light from a single candle illuminating their faces, four men huddled around the table. “Here she is,” Jennah announced. “Her name is Elena.”

Standing beside Jennah before the table, I held my breath, but none of the men showed any signs of knowing who I was. Sighing, I almost allowed myself to relax.

For my benefit, Jennah gestured to each man as she introduced him.

“This is Gare.” She pointed to a man with dark skin, a short brown beard, and shaggy hair brushing his broad shoulders. He grunted a greeting to me, barely interested in my presence. “He is a former soldier who trained during our years of peace, but do not underestimate his abilities. Even a peacetime soldier is skilled, and Gare is as strong and fierce as they come.” She flashed him a smile.

“Here is Benor, a merchant from Argelon. He resides here in the city for most of each winter and helps spread word of the king’s actions and our plans to those loyal to our cause outside of the capital.” Jennah nodded to a thin middle-aged man, his face as white as porcelain and his head nearly bald.

“And why is she here?” a voice interrupted. A young man of eighteen, with sharp features and piercing blue eyes, studied me with a frown furrowing his brow.

“That is Layk,” Jennah muttered to me. “Don’t let him trouble you. He serves as a patrol guard for the city, and since he has also served as our eyes and ears amongst the king’s loyal men, he tends to be the most suspicious of us all.” She glared at Layk, who leaned back with a sigh but held his tongue.

Jennah turned to the last member of the group, an elderly, clean-shaven man with snow white hair and a friendly smile. “This is Ellok. He is another grocer, with a shop near the main square, and being at the heart of the city, he sees and hears much.”

Layk scowled at me. “I think my question warrants an answer. This meeting is no tea party. Why would you share all of this information with a strange girl?”

I met his gaze without wavering. “I live in Evren, the town Marke is staying in as he recovers. On his way to trade with us, he was attacked by one of the sedwa in Evren Forest. I came bringing this news and seeking to join your cause.”

Layk’s face was grave. “How did you hear about us?”

I relaxed my hands when I realized they were balled into fists at my sides. “Marke told me about your meetings. He wanted the people of Evren to know why the sedwa are attacking them.”

The men turned to each other, sharing doubtful looks. Gare and Layk leaned in close, muttering under their breath to one another and shooting me dark glances.

“Why would he trust you?” Gare said.

“Perhaps she is lying about meeting Marke,” Ellok suggested. “Maybe she was sent by the enemy.”

Layk set his jaw. “If the king’s men already know about us, they wouldn’t have sent a girl to gather information. They’d be torturing us in dungeons or beheading us by now.”

“I’m sure she’s no threat,” Benor intervened, waving off the other men’s concerns.

Jennah lifted her chin defiantly and ignored Benor’s comment. “Marke has a gift for discernment. If he trusted Elena with information about us, then I trust her as well.”

“You truly believe those old tales about an Alrenian god granting us gifts?” Layk cocked an eyebrow at her.

My heart pounded. If Marke had a gift from the Life-Giver, perhaps Jennah would know more about my own gift. I bit back my questions, knowing now was not the time to satiate my curiosity.

Jennah crossed her arms, her eyes flashing at Layk. “Does my heritage trouble you?” She drew in a sharp breath. “Yes, I believe the stories. Some of you have even witnessed how his gift works.”

“Discerning as he may be, I still think he could make a mistake,” Gare said, and glanced around the table. “Who here trusts all of his comrades, beyond a shadow of a doubt?”

Layk shifted in his seat. “If I did not trust everyone here, I would be more reserved in sharing the information I acquire while on duty.”

“It has taken time for us to build trust, and we still are cautious amongst one another, and especially other members of the rebellion, meeting in other locations,” Jennah said. “The only way we can truly know she is trustworthy is to see her in action, to watch her carefully. She already knew of our meetings and where to search for us. Would you have had me send her away? Whether you trust her or not, you have to agree it’s safer to keep her near, where we can watch her.”

The men sank back into their seats, glancing at one another with milder expressions before looking back at Jennah and nodding slowly, thoughtfully.

“Well put,” Benor said, rubbing his beard. “But why would Marke share news with a child in the first place? What can she do for our movement?”

“Don’t be so quick to scoff at help when it is offered,” Jennah said.

“Help?” Layk’s eyes took in my slender frame almost with disgust. “How can she offer us help?” His gaze paused on my bow. I could almost see him trying to decide whether I knew how to wield it or not.

Ellok raised his eyebrows. “She made the journey through Evren Forest alone…and lived to tell the tale. Marke himself was gravely injured in his attempt, if her news is true. She seems to be more than she appears.”

I stood taller, trying to keep my face stern and confident.

Gare gestured to my bow. “Well…if you want to help, prove to us that you can. Let me see you use that bow.”

“Really, Gare…” Jennah began, but Layk raised his hand and she stopped.

“Yes, let’s see,” Layk agreed. He pointed. “Aim for that dent in the beam above us…do you see it?”

In the darkness, I could just make out the flaw in the wood he was talking about. Nodding, I strung an arrow to my bow and aimed for the beam. My hands trembled slightly, so I gulped in some air and released it slowly to steady them, and fired. The arrow struck the dent, embedding itself deep into the wood.

“That was a good shot,” Ellok said. “A strong one.” He glanced around at his companions.

“Not bad,” Layk conceded. “Your aim is accurate, though the distance here wasn’t that great. But what else can you do for us? There are hundreds of others who can fire an arrow.”

I wanted to protest.
Isn’t it enough that you have another person on your side? Isn’t that what you want, more numbers?
But I realized that they couldn’t accept just anyone. I had yet to earn their trust, let alone their confidence and respect. They had to ensure I was worth the risk of bringing into their activities against the king, that I wouldn’t weaken their efforts and put their lives in danger.

My heart pounded.
Do I share who I am to convince them?
No…I couldn’t risk it. But what could I say instead? I couldn’t lie, and they wouldn’t believe the truth.

Perhaps part of the truth would do.

“I grew up in the palace, and I’m familiar with its layout,” I said. “I believe I could offer you valuable input in your plans for rebellion.”

A heavy silence fell. The candles on the table spluttered in their own wax and cast eerie shadows across the men’s faces. I tried to read their faces, but their expressions were inscrutable.

If they say no, I’m on my own.

I squeezed my hands into fists again as I awaited their decision.

“You seem to have proven your mettle in your travels from Evren to Misroth already.” To my surprise, it was Gare who interrupted my thoughts. He scanned his comrades’ faces, then turned back to me. “If you are committed to this cause, you must realize you’re responsible for your own fate.”

“You must also realize you are not the only one in our numbers with knowledge of the palace,” Ellok said, tugging at his beard. “We have others already on the inside, though we could always use more. And the risk is great.”

Layk drew a rolled parchment from a sack hanging from the back of his chair. “We have a more pressing matter at the moment. There isn’t much time, but we do have a plan you can play a part in—if, as Gare said, you are truly committed to this cause.” Hard and unyielding, his eyes met mine.

Once again, I refused to look away. “I will die for it.”

The men exchanged looks again.

“In that case…” Gare cracked his knuckles. “Let’s explain. In case the laws have not affected those outside Misroth City much, you should know…the king’s decrees have grown increasingly restrictive of priests. After all, they teach against hate, cruelty, greed, and lust for power—many have actively spoken against the new laws restricting the people’s freedoms and ability to worship; others have cried out for the bloodshed to end, perhaps not convinced that everyone the king has executed is as guilty as he claims. Many have already died. Recently, another of our priests has been condemned to death, and he is to be publicly beheaded at sunset, three days from now. We plan to stop it.”

“That’s an ambitious mission,” I blurted out. “King Zarev has an impressive array of guards at his disposal.”

“It’s a fool’s mission,” Benor agreed. “It will end in executions for all of us.”

“We
cannot
sit by as innocent men die!” Gare slammed his fist on the table, knocking over the candle. The light snuffed out and the room became even dimmer than before, lit only by the candle Jennah still held aloft.

“Gare is right,” Jennah said softly. “We need to find a public way to stand up to the king’s tyranny.”

“If we plan carefully enough, there is a possibility we can escape before we are arrested. It’s bold, but it’s possible,” Layk added. “Besides, a public showing of rebellion might be the push the people need to align with the rebellion. It’ll give them courage—a cause to stand behind.”

“Is it courage the people of Misroth lack, or the truth?” Benor asked. “So many believe the king’s lies. Few believe the truth.”

Layk shifted in his seat. “Maybe Misroth needs to see a few rebels take risks to wake up to the need for a rebellion. If they know we are willing to risk our lives…”

“Arguing is a waste of time,” Gare said. “If Benor doubts, he can stay behind. But we need to plan. Enough hiding in cellars and cowering in shadows. It’s time for action!”

Jennah extended her hand to offer me a seat at the table as she sank into another empty chair. “Then let’s plan our actions. We haven’t much time.”

I seated myself beside her, my heart pulsing with anticipation even as I bit back my fear. There would be no more cowering, no more hiding. From now on, I would live—or die—for Misroth.

CHAPTER 13

M
uffled voices from the shop below snatched me from my sleep. I stared at the ceiling, listening to Jennah attempt to appease a disgruntled old man.

“My deliveryman is a day late due to poor weather. If you return tomorrow, we will have more…”

Tomorrow. Tomorrow we would attempt the rescue mission we had painstakingly worked out in the early morning hours of careful meetings; in casual trips to the main square in daylight hours; in moments of staring out of Ellok’s shop windows at the surrounding shops, at the patrol guards’ movements, at the vacant executioner’s stand waiting for the next scheduled death. The days had passed slowly, and yet, the day I anticipated and dreaded was already almost here and I wasn’t sure I was prepared.

If I die tomorrow, will anyone miss me?
I let my mind wander to memories of Lyanna, Rev, and my friends in Evren. Did Avrik miss me at all?
Stop thinking
, I ordered myself, before I became overwhelmed with the grief of missing them.

Rolling out of bed, I went to the dresser and poured water into the basin. As I washed my face, I refused to look at my reflection and see my mother’s eyes staring back at me. Instead, I concentrated on how refreshing the water felt against my skin and braced myself for the day ahead. While I repacked my belongings, my hand touched the dagger Avrik had given me and I closed my eyes to block out memories of him. Over and over, I told myself not to miss the loved ones I’d left behind in Evren, or the ones I’d abandoned long ago here in Misroth.

But no matter how hard I tried, guilt settled over me like a weight. It seeped through my entire being, making it hard to move and even harder to smile as I joined Kam and the girls for a late lunch. Even when I tried to distract myself while I helped Jennah in the shop that afternoon, my thoughts wandered.

In my exhaustion, I dropped a sack of flour as I hauled it from the storeroom to restock the front. Sighing, I paused to wipe my brow.
I should have come back long ago. Why did I abandon my people like this? My family? If I’d returned sooner, maybe I could have prevented this war and kept Gillen safe
. As I lifted the sack, my trembling fingers nearly slipped and dropped it again.

The bell attached to the shop’s front door rang out and a stocky middle-aged man stepped inside, glancing about at the shelves. I lowered my head immediately, my heart thudding against my chest.

Don’t recognize me
, I prayed.

“Good afternoon,” Jennah greeted.

I fumbled with the sack, slinging it over my shoulder and shuffling quietly toward the shelves. As soon as I set it in its place, I slipped toward the storeroom. I sat on an unopened crate, relishing the safety of the shadows enveloping me even as I hated myself for retreating when customers entered Jennah’s store.

Why was I being a coward? The answer came easily:
Because I feel powerless. Even with a group of rebels at my side, I can’t even trust them with the truth
.

That night, I tossed in my bed. Doubt, fear, and worry consumed me. Was I leading these rebels in a suicide mission? Was it right for me to encourage them to attempt to save the priest, or to associate with me before or after I entered the palace?

I pulled my old journal from my pack to read the words I’d written during my mute years. It was filled with messages to the people in my life—fragments of another place and time in which I’d felt secure. The pages afforded glimpses into my soul where I’d hidden it, behind masks of paper and ink.

I fell asleep to dreams of Gillen surrounded by enemies in battle. Storm clouds raged overhead and blood soaked the ground. Then the dream shifted to the king’s guard slaughtering citizens at the execution, and finally turning to my band of rebels to finish them off too.

When morning light spilled into the room, I squirmed awake. I felt as drained as if I had spent the entire night in battle at Gillen’s side. My body was heavy and anxiety clustered in my throat until it became difficult to swallow.
It’s your fault he is in danger
.
You could have prevented this war. You could have prevented everything, and your family and your people would be safe
.

Where was Gillen now? Was he in the middle of battle right at this moment? I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to block out the feelings raging inside.

Disentangling myself from my sheets and nightmares, I stumbled to the window to gaze out at my city. The streets basked in the cold white light of a snowy winter day. Fluffy clouds loomed on the horizon, promising more snow to come, while a lazy sun eased its way into the sky overhead. Everywhere there were people bustling along on business and guards making their rounds through the streets. Anger flared inside me as I watched the men that should be protecting my people glare at passersby. Children stumbled past them in fear and awe while adults averted their gazes.

Turning away from the window, I sighed. Knowing what the rebels and I had planned, Kam and the girls were somber at breakfast. I ate what I could manage to force down of the eggs and bread before me, and joined Jennah in the shop.

The hours slipped by too quickly. I ate about as much for lunch as I did for breakfast, forcing the food down only because I knew I needed my strength. Before long, I watched the shadows outside grow longer, the afternoon light begin to fade, and the sun sink low behind the buildings across from the shop.

The men filed in one at a time, as if they were last-minute customers eager to make purchases before Jennah closed her doors. My stomach churned at the sight of them: only Gare and Layk looked fit to undertake a life-threatening mission. Benor, though not the oldest, had surely seen healthier days in his prime, and Ellok looked like he should be sitting by a fire telling stories to his grandchildren.

Jennah locked the door, and we all looked to Gare.

“Earlier we asked Elena how committed she was to our cause,” Gare said, glancing around at them all. “Now I ask each of you the same: are you willing to die?”

Layk raised his eyebrows. “Do you think any of us would be here if we were not?”

The others nodded a silent assent.

“Then that is settled. Whether you live or die, your fate is in your hands.” Gare glanced pointedly at me, and I squared my shoulders in response. “Let’s prepare to leave.”

Jennah pulled her apron over her head. “I can be ready in five minutes.”

“I still think you should stay with your daughters,” Ellok said, scratching at his beard like it made him uncomfortable. “They are young and afraid, and their father isn’t here. They need you.”

“And I told you, I will not,” Jennah replied. “I would rather die fighting for them to have a safe future, than sit back doing nothing. If I die, I die fighting for them. If I stay here and live, I live allowing them to grow up in oppression.” Her eyes sparked. “I’m not afraid.” None of the men had a response. Gare cleared his throat, Benor shuffled awkwardly on his feet, and Layk bit his lip to hide a smile.

“Now that that’s settled, let’s stop wasting time,” Jennah said, crossing her arms. “We already made our plans. Elena and I will be back in a few minutes.”

She and I went upstairs to retrieve our weapons. I swung my quiver over my shoulder and attached my bow to its sling on my back. Sliding my dagger into my belt, I pulled on my cloak and set my shoulders. I couldn’t hide my bow, but I had managed to slip into the city without any guards stopping me. The king had not yet outlawed weapons in the hands of his people, but Layk had shared that guards often stopped armed citizens for questioning.

I imagined a guard forcing me to a halt to ask questions and catching a glimpse of my face beneath my hood, recognizing who I was and possibly putting my comrades in even greater danger. If that happened, I would pray the distraction of my arrest would work in their favor, and not against them. I lowered my gaze, hoping they didn’t see the fear in my eyes.

Jennah met me in the hallway, armed with her husband’s sword and a traveling cloak to help conceal it. Sharing a quick smile, we dashed downstairs to meet the men.

“I still don’t like this,” Benor growled.

Gare set a hand on Benor’s shoulder. “But at least we are doing something!”

One by one, we slipped out into the evening. We followed Layk’s lead as he struck out on a winding path through quiet side streets and alleys. Away from the crowd and the patrol guards’ posts, we were inconspicuous, but not invisible. I kept my eyes low and my strides short in hopes that no one would give a girl armed with a bow extra attention.

As we approached the heart of the capital, I noticed the crowd thickening along the main street. The road fairly buzzed with excitement as the people chattered and jostled one another in their attempts to travel faster.

Sooner than I expected, we reached an old brick building bordering the main square.

“Here we are,” Layk whispered. He turned to me. “As we said, you’ll have good visibility here, and most of the guards will have trouble seeing you. Only a few are posted on the other rooftops, and they will be focused on the execution stand until you fire. If you move fast enough…”

I cut him off. “No need to worry. We’ve gone over this plan many times. I’ll be all right.”

“She’s right,” Gare said. “We don’t have time to waste.” He shot one last glance at me. “Our hopes rest on you. Don’t let us down.” He turned to the others. “Let’s get into our positions.”

With a nod, Layk turned away to lead the rest of the rebels to their positions, all set at random points throughout the square. Armed with a bow and sword, Gare would be in the corner closest to me in order to act as my defense. Layk and Ellok had positions nearer the stand in case my shot went awry, and Benor and Jennah, armed with weapons only suitable for hand-to-hand combat, would remain at the edges of the square in the hope that they could hinder the guards’ pursuit once I fired my bow and began my escape. I rolled my shoulders as I prepared to climb. It was a desperate plan, formed by a small band with few resources and grand hopes, but it was a plan and I had agreed to follow it.

My arms trembled as I pulled myself up along the crumbling wall, finding cracks in the mortar and gaps from missing bricks to use as hand and footholds. According to Layk, the rooftop was caving in, which meant no guards would be posted on this building and few, if any, would suspect anyone to climb it. But that was because their anticipated suspects were men, large and muscular. I was a girl, shorter and smaller than any of the other rebels, light enough for even the collapsing building to carry my weight if I was cautious. Gare was right: though Layk was also armed with a bow, I had the best position to make the shot swiftly and accurately.

When I reached the top, I peered over the edge. The rooftop was flat and square, which would make it easy to scale, and it was indeed clear of guards; but there was a hole near the middle where the entire roof had begun collapsing inward. Steeling my nerves, I pulled myself up and crept along the edge to give the hole a wide berth, testing my weight on each tile before I fully trusted it. Though the air was chilly, the setting sun was warm on my back and my palms were already growing clammy within my shooting gloves.

I chose a perch on a few solid tiles on the opposite end of the roof and drew an arrow. Kneeling, I rolled my shoulders a second time to ease the tension in my neck and studied my surroundings. Overhead the sky was clear, the eastern horizon tinged purple with the first stars springing into view, while behind me, the dying sun spilled its last rays of light, washing the world in a blood-red hue. Though the nearby shops were closed and the booths shut up or rolled away, the scent of freshly baked bread and roasting meat was still heavy in the air. Every inch of the square below me was packed full of citizens gathering around the stand, set close to the statue of King Eldon, who watched the proceedings with a chiseled, stern countenance.

As I scanned the people, I could pick out Gare’s large form in the corner of the square closest to me. He stood in the shadows, his eyes alert while he watched every movement of the guards stationed near him. The sight was a comforting reminder that I was not alone; in their various positions throughout the main square, my friends were watching and waiting too.

I turned my attention to my task: the execution stand. Several of the king’s guards stood on and around it to keep the flood of people a safe distance from the prisoner. At the far corner, the executioner rested his double-bladed axe on his shoulder and awaited his signal. He was cloaked and hooded in black to hide his features from all but the man he was about to kill. Nearby, the condemned priest, bound and held by two guards, bowed his head as if in prayer.

Shrouded in his captain’s cloak, Narek stood near the edge of the platform. My heart jolted at the sight, and fear and rage curled in my stomach. I bit my lip and forced myself to control my ragged breathing.
Focus
. I wiped a sweaty palm on the skirt of my dress.
Stop the execution. Let Narek taste defeat.

His voice echoed through the square as he finished a speech to the people. “…to witness the execution of this man”—he gestured toward the prisoner—“for his treasonous actions against the king.”

The two guards on either side of the priest shoved him to his knees and forced his neck onto the chopping block. They stepped back and a hush fell over the crowd. My stomach churned. What was worse: being thrown to the sea to drown or being publicly beheaded before family and friends?

Time was short. Familiar fear rattled my heart; I had to move swiftly, and I could not fail. But something else touched it too: the memory of the Life-Giver and the purpose that had urged me forward. Reaching back, I drew an arrow from my quiver and notched it to my bow. I drew a deep breath as I pulled the string and focused on keeping my arm steady. An urge to let the arrow soar straight into Narek’s heart gnawed at my mind, but I nudged the thought away. I had time for one shot, one chance to save an innocent man. Narek would face justice another day.

I closed one eye and stared at my target as he lumbered toward the chopping block. Years of archery lessons and practice flashed through my brain, but it wasn’t Avrik’s voice I heard in my head, but Gillen’s.
Stay calm and you will remain steady so that your arrow can fly true. Take deep, slow breaths and release your arrow as you exhale
.