"To the Halderians?" Irritated, I pulled my hand away. "Why not push me off a cliff now and save them the trouble?"
"Then you'll go north, as Trina's ransom against further Dominion attacks," Tenger said.
Another great plan. Tenger had treated me as ransom last night. How well had that worked out for him?
Simon nodded at the cloak covering me. "Trina grabbed that on her way out of Silven. When we reach the Halderians, keep the hood up. No one should notice you."
I hoped he was right. I didn't want to think of the Halderians as enemies--they were Darrow's people, and Gerald's. But I doubted they'd afford me the same courtesy. I would go to the Halderians long enough to see the new Infidante. Depending on who it was, I'd stay and fight, or get as far from this country as possible.
I briefly wondered if Simon would consider leaving Antora with me. Would his feelings be enough to make him turn his back on his oaths, on his future? Could he ever love me, without condition, without second-guessing the wisdom of giving his heart to an Endrean?
I wanted to ask, but if I did, I couldn't bear to hear him tell me no. So I wouldn't ask. I wouldn't allow myself to hope. If I left Antora, I'd go alone.
Gabe had found a few wild bilberries, which he shared with all of us, though there weren't nearly enough to go around. I wasn't hungry, but Simon forced me to eat them anyway, insisting I take his as well.
Tenger carried the Olden Blade wrapped in a cloth and tucked in his belt. I had already casually checked his palm for a burn, wondering if he had tried to claim the Blade, like me. There was no sign of a burn, so he must be waiting until the ceremony to make an official claim. If he had successfully claimed it, he would have told us.
Before mounting his horse, Tenger pulled me aside. His attitude seemed different than his usual arrogance. He made no attempt to intimidate or frighten me, yet he still carried the authority of the man in charge. "There are some things you must accept, Kestra. Thousands of Antorans have died since Endrick took power. Darrow's death is a cruel one to accept, but there will be more before we succeed."
"Could he have survived?"
After years involved with the rebellion, Tenger had probably hardened beyond such foolish hopes. "Believe it, if that helps you. But now that you're with us, you're going to see the true effects of war."
"I'm not with you." Did he really think I'd ever fall in line behind him? "I'll fight on my own, or leave on my own."
"Then you'll die on your own. I know you think of us as enemies. I'd think the very same way if our positions were reversed. And maybe we were enemies when this all began, but I hope that will change in time."
I snorted, privately wondering how much time would have to pass before it was safe to tell him about my Endrean mother. A thousand years, maybe more?
He continued, "If you are committed to bringing Lord Endrick down, as I am, then can we start there, as friends?"
"I agree that Endrick cannot be allowed to remain on the throne. But that does not make us friends."
"I'm sorry to hear it," he said, looking almost sincere. "Perhaps one day."
Perhaps when it rained oxen. Not a moment before.
When I didn't respond, Tenger took the reins of his horse and swung into the saddle. We bid farewell to Gabe and Trina, and then Simon helped me into the saddle of his horse. I sat sidesaddle until I could find more appropriate travel clothes. Simon's arms went around me to hold the reins, but really, he was holding me, not so different from when he'd comforted me in the dungeons.
Tenger took note of it, but said nothing, and I was grateful for the silence. I couldn't fight everything. It was enough to remember to keep breathing.
Tenger set out ahead of us, taking us down the rugged coastline, high above the foamy seawater and deeper into the rolling hills. Their luster of the warmer months had faded, but spring would brighten them again. I thought of the loss of Darrow and hoped better times would come again for me too.
"How long until we reach the Halderians?" I asked.
"It's another two hours until we reach the Mistriver," Tenger said. "We'll follow that south and hopefully get there by nightfall. I don't like the idea of us out in the open overnight."
I didn't like that idea either. Near the Hiplands, few settlements existed where we might beg for food or lodging. Even if there were, we all had the look of vagabonds. We'd just have to push on and hope the Halderians welcomed us in.
Simon and Tenger would be greeted warmly, considering the gift they were bringing. I'd be grateful for anything kinder than open knives in the hands of those who reached out to welcome me.
Simon gradually put more distance between us and Tenger. When we were out of earshot, and he drew in a breath to speak, I jumped in first. An argument was coming. I intended to settle it in my favor.
"I told you I'd hidden the Olden Blade. It shouldn't matter where I hid it."
"You know it matters."
"Keeping that secret had nothing to do with my trust in you."
He scoffed. "Didn't it?"
"If you knew that I had the Blade, you'd tell Tenger. Not to hurt me, but to protect me." He started to answer, and I quickly added, "You proved me right on that. Last night, you revealed everything I'd told you about the dagger."
"Which saved your life!"
"That's my point!"
"What point? That you'd be better off dead?" He snorted with anger. "Because that was going to happen." A long silence passed before he spoke again. "Is there anything else you aren't telling me? Any secret, even if it's small?"
I countered, "Is there anything you haven't told me?"
A beat passed. "No."
"That's not true, Simon."
Every part of his face fell. "I'm going to be reassigned. The only reason I'm still here is because we lost so many Coracks last night. After we give the Blade to the Halderians, I'm supposed to join the Coracks up north ... without you."
A pit formed in my stomach. "Tenger's separating us?"
"He knows why I want to be with you, and that it has nothing to do with the Olden Blade."
More silence followed. I understood those reasons, I shared in them. But that wasn't his secret.
"Are you going to obey Tenger?" I asked. "Go north?"
"What do you want me to do, Kes? Because I genuinely don't know." He shrugged, hopeless and empty. "Should I beg you to stay? Threaten you again?" He drew in a deeper breath, one that seemed to cause him pain. "Or let you go?"
"None of that." I lifted my hand to his cheek, borrowing his attention from the road ahead. "I want to see my reflection in your eyes again. I want you to fight with me when I'm wrong, and give in when I'm right. I want your courage, your compassion. Your smile." I took one of his hands that held the reins and wove my fingers in with his. "And I want a chance to end that kiss differently."
A shy smile tugged at his mouth. His lips brushed against the side of my neck, leaving a memory there. Now his smile widened, as if nothing existed in the world but us. His arm curled tighter around my waist, and I let myself fold into him. A chilly morning breeze washed over us, but I barely felt it. I was with Simon. I had all the warmth I needed.
"If you ride any slower, we won't be there until winter!" Tenger called. "Hurry!"
Simon chuckled and nudged the horse until it picked up the pace. Tenger had stopped to wait for us, but when he saw us coming again, he returned to the trail.
We passed no other travelers on the way to the Halderians, and any homes we came across had long been abandoned, now little more than shells of forgotten lives. I wondered about the families who had lived here, and what chased them away. Was this the consequence of war, or its aftermath under Endrick's reign?
"What are your plans?" Simon asked as if reading my thoughts. "Still leaving Antora?"
"I'll go to the Halderians, for now."
He said nothing, but a smile brightened his eyes when he looked at me. He believed I was staying because of him, and maybe I was, but there w
as more to it.
After being part of the Dominion for so long, stained by their spoils of war, I owed something more to my country than simply abandoning it. Repairing some of the damage could become my redemption. And maybe proof of the goodness of at least one Endrean.
Not far ahead of us, Tenger steered us off the road toward the Hiplands. He looked back long enough to assure himself we were still following, and politely nodded at me before turning around again.
What if I accepted Tenger's invitation to join the Coracks? Despite her bloodlines, Trina had joined. Would it be any worse for me?
I laughed to myself. That'd be like asking if a blizzard was worse than a single snowflake. I was Endrean. I was the enemy.
"The Halderians will offer a feast in gratitude for bringing the Olden Blade," Tenger said. "But I'll insist we go directly to the ceremony."
"The Blade can't be claimed until the ceremony?" Simon asked.
Tenger shrugged. "According to Halderian beliefs, that's when the Infidante becomes official. And after it's over, then we'll tell them what we're offering."
"Do you really think they'll unite with the Coracks?" I asked.
"They will, if they believe it's a chance to return to power. The Olden Blade will be claimed tonight." Tenger grinned over at me. "Maybe by a Halderian from their clan, or maybe the Coracks have a Halderian among us."
I changed my mind. Again. I could never take orders from Tenger.
Simon continued, "Whoever it is, we must agree to support them, because without that dagger, we will all fail."
"We need an Infidante to win," I said, "but it's no guarantee either. There are still a thousand ways we can lose."
Tenger patted the wrapped Olden Blade at his side. "Whatever happens, tonight we will change the course of Antora's future. After tonight, the real rebellion will begin."
Yes, that was exactly my worry.
The Dominion knew the Halderians had begun to gather in the southern Hiplands, but Endrick still believed this was a broken clan, never to rise again. Life in the Hiplands was considered unsustainable due to the acidic soils, salty waters, and inedible vegetation. From what I'd overheard of Sir Henry's conversations on the matter, they figured the Halderians had either all died out by now, or soon would.
How wrong they were.
Earlier on the trail, Tenger had told us the Halderians called their village Nessel, and had warned us not to expect much. He was wrong too. The instant we passed through the town gates, a blossom unfolded before us. This was no mere village. The Halderians were doing more than gathering. They were resurrecting themselves.
"I heard they were trying to set up trade agreements with Reddengrad," Tenger mused. "They must have succeeded."
"I'll say." Simon poked my arm. "Maybe you should've married Sir Basil. He's probably very wealthy."
"As he told me, several times," I replied.
Though Basil must have been sincere, because if Reddengrad had this much to offer Nessel, I could imagine what the country itself was like. In a brief survey of the town, we saw finely woven curtains hanging in every window. Shops full of goods lined the small market square, and at the sides of the road, wagons were ready to be loaded, I assumed for more trading in the coming days.
"Was this where they brought you when you were kidnapped?" Simon quietly asked me.
"I never made it this far south. The place they took me was a temporary camp. A lot of tents." Still, I raised the hood on my cloak, and for the first time became grateful for the shabby dress from the wagon. No one would look twice at me.
"Why is it so quiet?" Tenger sat at full attention in his saddle. "Where is everyone?"
"Listen." Simon stopped our horse. Off in the distance, a voice could be heard, though we were too far to hear any words.
"A meeting?" That's what it sounded like. A swell of worry rose in my chest, remembering every minute of my time with the Halderians before. Why had I thought it was safe to come here? As if they'd forget what they'd done to me, how they'd failed? Simon sensed my fear, and wrapped an arm tighter around my waist, a reassurance I very much needed.
"They must have known we were coming." Tenger untied the satchel holding the Olden Blade and we all dismounted. "They're expecting us."
The meeting was being held at the edge of town, in a field surrounded by a waist-high stone wall, and dug down at a gentle angle to create an amphitheater. The townspeople sat hip-to-hip on the hillside grass, facing the staging area at the bottom. I recognized the voice of the speaker. It was Thorne, the man who had been involved in my kidnapping, and the attack at the inn.
Darrow trusted him, I reminded myself, and hoped Darrow had not been hallucinating with pain at the time he told me so.
"My friends," Thorne was saying, "we have gathered you from throughout Antora because there is strength in numbers. There is no better time to act, to claim the heritage of power. The Halderians have never been cowards, never ones to hide and accept our fate. Our time to rule Antora has come again!"
Enthusiastic cheers rose from the audience. Several people here surely remembered the glory of ruling from the Scarlet Throne, when they were the beacon of Antora. They had hidden in the shadows long enough.
"Before we commence, let's have a song. The Halderian anthem."
It began as a somber, serious tune, one I'd never heard before. Of course, it was rare to hear any music at all in Antora, so I wasn't sure how to react. But I liked it. I longed to be part of it.
As the anthem rose in spirit, we felt ourselves pulled in closer, until Simon and I were standing behind the stone wall, with Tenger keeping watch a little farther off. Several other Halderians were crowded in front of us, making it impossible to see.
"What are you doing?" Simon asked.
I put a hand on his shoulder, using him as a brace for balance as I climbed the stone wall and stood on the top of it. Now I could see. Or be seen. I had to be careful.
Thorne was alone on the stage, and as I studied the intentness with which the other Halderians were following his lead, I realized they held him in great esteem. If only they had cared this much when he tried to tell them I was not to be harmed or threatened. Things might have turned out very differently.
The anthem ended with cheers and applause. As it did, Thorne's eyes grazed over the crowd, ending with me. Even with my hood on, he nodded in recognition and started to speak again, but all I heard was a thud behind me and a body falling to the ground.
I turned to see Simon collapsed on the ground, unconscious. Kneeling beside him was Tenger, though he had a cut over one eye. What had happened?
Tenger pointed to his left, where a large crowd of townspeople were in a densely packed clump. "The attacker ran that way!"
"Who was it?"
"I don't know--a spy maybe? Someone grabbed me from behind, trying to get the Blade. Simon stopped him but took a hit."
Tenger reached for his knife to give chase, but I shook my head. If Tenger and I started a fight with one Halderian, we'd soon be fighting all of them. "Help me get Simon somewhere safe! Then we'll figure out what to do next." I pointed to a building across the road with a sign identifying it as a cobbler's shop. It would have to do.
Tenger tucked the wrapped Olden Blade in his belt and picked up Simon's arms while I took his legs. A fat lump was already forming on the side of his head. Someone clearly didn't like the idea of us arriving here with that dagger.
The cobbler's door was open and his shop was dark save only for the waning sunlight filtering in through a front window. The small room smelled strongly of leather, which was to be expected considering the number of shoes we saw.
"Let's lean him against the workbench." Tenger cocked his head toward the back of the room. "That'll make it easier to tend to his wound."
I agreed, and we set him down as gently as we could. While Tenger removed Simon's sword so he could sit comfortably, I tore the bottom of my skirts to get enough fabric to wrap his head. I set to work at that,
listening to Tenger explore the rest of the shop, ensuring we were alone.
I wrapped the wound and tied the knot to the side of his head. "That should help, but there must be a physician in town who can examine him."
"We'll find one, after the ceremony is over."
I shook my head, brushing my fingers across Simon's cheek. "No, let's do it now. I'll go, if you stay and watch him."
Something sharp pressed against my back, possibly one of the cobbler's tools for cutting the leather for the shoes. It was there as a threat, confirmed by the coldness of Tenger's voice. "You made this too easy, my lady, coming in here."
I didn't move. "Simon is hurt!" Then I drew in a breath. "And you hurt him! Why?"
Tenger was his captain. Simon had sworn loyalty to Tenger and had followed every order he'd ever been given. In return, the captain had brought a rock down on his head.
"He'll be fine. Simon needed some sleep, and you need to get out of my way." Tenger tossed me some leather cord. "Tie his hands." He poked me in the back with the tool, prompting me to obey.
"You have the Olden Blade," I said. "Why is any of this necessary? Just claim it!"
Tenger chuckled. "I'm not one of them, my lady. If I were, trust me, this dagger would already be mine."
And if I were one, I'd have claimed it first. The burn on my palm proved the truth of that.
As I continued working on Simon's knots, he said, "None of this would've been necessary if you had joined the Coracks when I asked you to earlier."
I snorted. "Pledge loyalty to someone who attacks one of his own and then threatens my life?"
"Pledge loyalty to the group that will bring forth the Infidante! It isn't too late, Kestra. Swear fealty to us and you'll walk beside me to that ceremony."
"What about Simon?"
He shrugged. "Until I have your loyalty, I don't really have his. Your oath can save him too."
"My oath to whom?" I looked back at Tenger. "Who do you want to claim the dagger?"
He checked my knots. "Tighten them. I'm not stupid."
"Aren't you?" I asked, though I began tightening the knots anyway.
"The Infidante could only ever be one person," Tenger said. "The natural heir to Risha's dagger." When I finished with Simon's knots, he pulled out another length of leather cord. "Now, you lean against the workbench, right next to Simon. Put your hands around the bench leg. Do it, Kestra."