Resistance

  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.

  “W
hat 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.

  He turned away from the stream with a scowl and settled in to wait out the long night.

  Kyrin pressed her palms into her eyes with a groan and then pulled her blankets up over her head. If only she could hide in their folds for the rest of the day. The tension that squeezed her neck and shoulders before bed had grown into a full-blown stress headache and made her a little nauseous. She’d barely slept, though the headache wasn’t entirely to blame. Thoughts of Davira, the emperor, and Daniel would not allow her any peace. That last look of suspicion in the princess’s cold, penetrating eyes still made her heart seize. She tried to convince herself she was just hypersensitive and overreacting, but it did little good.

  She sighed in the warm darkness under the blankets. Secure though it seemed, she couldn’t hide. The day awaited, and she must face it. Holly would be along anytime now to help her dress. In desperate need of strength, Kyrin slipped out of bed, dropped to her knees, and rested her heavy head against the mattress.

  “I’m surrounded, Elôm,” she murmured. “I’m surrounded by those who don’t know You and would harm me if they learned of my trust in You. I’m afraid they already might suspect me. I don’t want to be afraid…but I am. Oh, please give me courage. I want to live bravely for You, but I’m weak. I cower under the threat of discovery.” She bit her lip, stung by the memories of what happened in the library. “I’m sorry I keep failing. Please help me better serve You.”

  The doorknob turned, and Kyrin jumped up. Holly entered the room.

  “Good morning, my lady,” she said sweetly.

  Her kindness brought a smile to Kyrin’s face, yet it died with one thought. How many opportunities had she wasted to speak with her maid about Elôm?

  “Good morning,” she murmured, though distracted by her shortcomings.

  Holly paused on her way to the wardrobe. “Are you all right, my lady?”

  Kyrin shrugged and scolded the tightness at the back of her throat. “I’m afraid I have a rather painful headache.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me help you dress and then I’ll get you some tea for that.”

  Kyrin managed another smile in thanks.

  Holly helped her into one of her dresses and then excused herself for a few minutes to fetch a cup of tea. Kyrin used this time to pull herself together. She had no such luxury as to break down whenever something went wrong. Not here.

  When Holly returned with the pleasantly fragrant brew, she said, “This always helps me.”

  “Thank you.”

  Kyrin took the cup and sat down at the dressing table to sip it while Holly worked on her hair. The silence hummed in Kyrin’s ears. She raised her cup to her lips, dismayed at how her hand trembled. Help me. She took a shallow breath and set the cup down.

  “Holly?”

  “Yes, my lady?”

  “Do you ever…think much about…faith?”

  The space between Holly’s brows scrunched up in a delicate frown. “Faith? I’m not sure, my lady. I mean, I go to the temple every day to pray just like we’re supposed to, but…”

  Kyrin waited and watched her reflection.

  “I’m afraid I can’t say too many of my prayers have been answered.” Holly shrugged. “I suppose I’m pretty insignificant to Aertus and Vilai.”

  But not to the real God. Kyrin closed her eyes a moment to pray again. Dare she say it? Should she make known exactly what she believed?

  Right as she opened her mouth to speak, the door swung open, and Lady Videlle bustled in. Kyrin snapped her mouth shut and swallowed her disappointment.

  “Well, you have a big day,” Videlle announced without so much as a good morning. “The emperor has requested your presence at his dinner tonight.”

  Kyrin looked up at her as best she could without bothering Holly’s work. “Dinner?”

  “Yes, yes, his dinner with the surrounding lords and governors.”

  Kyrin fought a groan. Her head pounded harder already.

  The sky hung low with gray clouds and sent a damp chill through the forest. Jace pulled his blanket tighter around his shoulders, but his bedroll still lay beside him, unused. Tyra yawned and stretched before gazing up at him. She was probably hungry. He hung his head and sat still for another few minutes. His eyes slid closed a number of times before he jerked back to full awareness.

  Enough of this. He pushed stiffly to his feet and hissed out a breath through his teeth at the pain that stabbed his chest. He lifted his shirt and touched cool fingers to the dark, mottled bruising across his ribs. Even a light touch burned, but he didn’t think they were broken. He tugged his shirt back into place and motioned to Tyra. Together, they trudged back to camp.

  The campfire crackled and glowed ahead of them, a welcome sight on a chilly morning, but the men around it created a barrier he had no desire to overcome. Whenever they caught his eye, they looked down, their faces somber. The usual silence surrounded them.

  Hardened against it, Jace took a small helping of breakfast and moved off to sit near the tent, where he ate without tasting. He spared only a brief glance when Rayad joined him with breakfast plate in hand.

  “How are you this morning?”

  Jace shrugged. Pain was pain. He was used to it. He brought a small bite of fried potatoes to his mouth, but his tender and swollen jaw worked slowly. After only a few more bites, he lost interest and gave the rest of his food to Tyra.

  “You should eat more,” Rayad said in a conversational tone.

  “I’m not hungry,” Jace muttered. He had no appetite these days. What was the point?

  Rayad stared down at his own food and didn’t eat much either. The silence drew out between them and grew uncomfortable.

  “I think I should leave.”

  Rayad’s eyes flashed to him. “What?”

  Jace stared down at his hands. It was too difficult to speak while looking him in the eyes. “Why stay? I’m not doing any good here.”

  “Just give it more time. We’ve been here less than a week. Things just need time to settle.”

  Jace shook his head. What would time do? Maybe the men would grow accustomed to his presence, but would they ever fully trust him? No. He’d live on the edge of their group, not a stranger, but never truly a member. He couldn’t live like that.

  Rayad breathed out slowly, voice tired and ragged. “Jace, you’re a man now. If what you want is to set out on your own, then I’ll let you go. But if it’s grief and this camp driving you away, then I’m going with you.”

  “No,” Jace replied firmly and managed to look at him. “You’re needed here.”

  “So are you.”

  Jace let out a short, hollow laugh. He wasn’t needed anywhere. “No, I’m not.”

  The pained look in Rayad’s eyes forced him to turn away again.

  “You’re valuable to this group. The men just have to come to realize it.”

  “Not if Holden has anything to say about it.”

  Jace rose to his feet
to fight the heaviness building inside him. Emotions brought nothing but more pain. He needed to be alone, to harden, to protect himself.

  “I think we have to cut him a little slack,” Rayad told him. “He’s been through more than you know.”

  Jace looked down and let his voice flow from behind the cold walls inside him. “I don’t blame Holden. I do have the blood of a monster.”

  Rayad pushed to his feet, determined to make Jace see it wasn’t true, but the young man turned away and headed for the trees. Rayad called to him, twice, but he would not turn back. When he disappeared into the forest, Rayad sank down with a groan and scrubbed his hands over his face, tired of the whole sorry situation.

  “What can I do, Lord?”

  If only the clouds would open with an answer to that. But they remained gray and dark, just like his mood. He didn’t like powerlessness any more than Jace did.

  “Are you all right?”

  Rayad lifted his eyes to Warin as his friend came and sat across from him. He released a broken sigh. “What do you do when someone is giving up? How are you supposed to help when they just won’t listen?”

  Warin slowly shook his head, unable to provide an answer either. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you to join us.”

  “No,” Rayad murmured. The true guilt rested inside him. “If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I know Jace. I should’ve known better than to drag him into this.”

  He grimaced, reluctant to voice his fears, though he knew them to be true. “I’m afraid one of these days he’ll go off and won’t come back. Then I’ll lose him for good. He only stays because of me, but soon, I don’t think even that will be enough.”

  Kyrin scrutinized herself in the mirror. Instead of her usual gold dress and black vest, Lady Videlle had chosen something more elaborate for tonight—a deep scarlet, off-the-shoulder gown of shimmering satin and black lace. Certainly the most elegant dress she’d ever worn, but she made a face when no one was looking. The neckline dropped much too low for her comfort. Collin had better not catch a glimpse of her. Yet, even at this, Lady Videlle wasn’t satisfied. She chattered again about needing to have the dresses altered.