I could get behind the idea, of course. But even with her declaration to table our business until later, she was still giving us a sales pitch to join the rebellion. At the moment, there was no such thing as a normal, everyday Unduthian. At the moment, there were the rich and the poor. The have and the have-nots.
We dug into our meals and it was every bit as wonderful as it smelled. It was just as delicious as the food we'd had on Optorio – just in a different way. It was certainly better than the fare I'd grown up on – food that was as bland as it was pretentious. The steaming plate of noodles with seafood was richer, filled with flavors that were layered over more flavors. It made my mouth sing with enjoyment.
The conversation throughout our meal was lively and filled with a lot of laughter. It was easier than I thought it would be to put all talk of the rebellion – and our role in it – aside and just focus on getting to know Manyr as a person. I found her to be witty and clever – and incredibly intelligent. She was fun to talk to and I had to admit, in another time and another place, I could see us being friends.
But we weren't in that other time or place. We were in the here and now. Caught in the middle of a war with two sides pulling at us. And though her message of equality resonated with me, I just couldn't be sure which side she was actually on.
Not just yet.
Chapter Two
Byr
“So, are the two of you feeling any better about us? About being here?” Yurat asked. “I know that Manyr told me you had some – misgivings – initially.”
Misgivings was one way to put it. At first, I had been excited by the idea of being a part of what I was seeing – of fighting the oppression of the Ministry and building a new world. I'd allowed myself to get caught up in the moment.
But that moment passed and I'd found myself having some of the same troubles and doubts that Hatare had expressed. How did we know for certain that this wasn't an elaborate ruse being put on by the Ministry? I'd read a lot about the psychological warfare governments on countless worlds had waged against their people to force compliance and quash dissent.
I thought that having some healthy skepticism at the start was probably a good thing.
“I think that you have a very well run group here,” I said. “Efficient. Seem to be pretty well trained.”
“They're very well trained,” he said. “And willing to lay down their lives for the cause. But you didn't exactly answer my question.”
Yurat looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I knew what he'd meant and what he wanted to hear. I just wasn't ready to give it to him yet. I didn't know why, but I still had a few lingering reservations about throwing myself wholeheartedly into this fight.
And if I had to hazard a guess as to the answer, it had everything to do with Hatare. I suddenly had something to lose. I knew it was selfish and it was probably wrong, but I couldn't help it. I felt like I'd been given a gift by finding her – by having her feel for me the way I'd come to feel for her. And I worried that getting involved in this war was going to end badly – that either one of us would die, or that we'd lose the fight and nothing would change in Unduthian society.
I feared that we'd be back to two classes of people and that Hatare would be forever beyond my reach.
We were free. Part of me thought that we should take that freedom and run with it. Far away. That we should start that new life on a new world we'd talked about – somewhere far, far away from Unduth and this coming war.
“I suppose I didn't,” I said softly.
“I can see that you're still having some doubts,” he said. “Some internal conflict. Why don't we talk about it and see if we can't ease your mind some?”
Yurat moved over to a cabinet and took out a bottle of a dark blue liquid. I recognized is as Unduthian Gort – a pretty potent liquor usually manufactured on the fringes. It most definitely wasn't a drink that the Unduthian elite would ever partake in.
I was alone with Yurat in his office in the main building. Hatare was off somewhere with Manyr – a situation I knew Yurat had set up to give us some time alone to talk. Man to man. I had a feeling he was going to press me hard to join the rebellion.
“Ever had Gort?” he asked me.
“Once or twice.”
He nodded as he poured us each about a quarter of the glass and raised it to me. I picked mine up and returned the toast, then each of us drank down the liquid. I wasn't overly fond of the stuff, and it hit me the same way every time – with a feeling like fire sliding down my throat just before a solid punch to the gut.
With our glasses empty, Yurat refilled them. I picked mine up, but held it in my hands, not ready to down another one just yet. I didn't know why, but I felt like I needed to keep my wits about me.
We'd been in Yurat's encampment for about a week. We'd talked to more people than I could remember – and all of them had been beyond excited to meet Hatare and I. Yurat and Manyr hadn't been kidding when they'd said we were celebrated within the rebellion – treated like conquering heroes. And yet, what had we conquered? What had we done to deserve such a warm and heroic reception?
Nothing. We'd done nothing at all but run and hide as we tried to survive.
It was for that reason – among many others – that I was so uncomfortable with all of the attention and praise we'd received since coming to Yurat's encampment. We didn't deserve it and to me, it felt really far over the top. So over the top that it bordered on the insincere – and almost like manipulation in a way.
“So, what is it that's holding you back, Byr?”
I shrugged. “Just not sure this is what I want,” I said. “I'm not much of a soldier.”
Yurat looked at me. “Lot of us felt that way at first,” he replied. “Some of them have become my most trusted and valuable fighters.”
“That's great for them,” I said. “I'm just not sure I have it in me.”
“You might surprise yourself with what you find inside of you,” Yurat said as he took a sip of his drink.
I stared down at the glass in my hand, watching the dark blue liquid as I swirled it around. Yurat poured himself another one before looking at my still-full glass and frowning.
“Know what I did before I joined the rebellion?” he asked. “I was a farmer. I grew crops – or at least, tried to. There isn't much that grows out on the fringes, as I'm sure you know. And what I did manage to grow, the Ministry took half. My duty to help Unduthian society, they called it.”
“That's terrible, Yurat,” I said. “And a story that's all too common on the fringes.”
He nodded. “That it is, son,” he said. “And that's part of the problem, don't you see? This government thinks they can do whatever it is they want to us and then expect us to just lie down and take it.”
I nodded. I agreed with what he was saying. Which, was part of the problem. I had absolutely no love for the Unduthian government. I thought they were oppressive, cruel, and downright evil. At least, to those of us not fortunate enough to be born into the right family.
“I can see that you're afraid – ” Yurat began.
“I'm not afraid to fight,” I said.
“No, I didn't think that, son,” he said. “I can see there is a fire in your spirit. And I know you feel about the Ministry the same way we do. But I can see that something is holding you back. If I had to guess, I'm thinking it's Hatare.”
“That's not true. Why would you say that?” I sounded a little too defensive, even to my own ears.
His smile was gentle and kind. “Because a lot of us have gone through the same thing. Have felt exactly how you're feeling right now,” he said softly.
“I doubt that.”
Yurat looked at me evenly. “I had a wife,” he said. “Her name was Antul. Beautiful woman. We grew up together, knew each other all our lives. She was the only woman I've ever loved.”
“What happened to her?”
A shadow crossed over Yurat's face and I could see that he was holding his anger in check – though it appea
red to be taking a tremendous effort on his part.
“Ministry soldiers killed her,” he said. “Shot her right in front of me when I'd finally had enough and refused to let them take my crops.”
A profound silence settled over the office as we both stared into our glasses. I didn't know what to say to that. But then, there didn't seem to be anything I could say. It did however, highlight the exact reason I wasn't running to join the fight –that was the last thing I wanted to see happen to Hatare. If she were to be killed because of my actions – or inactions – I didn't know how I was going to live with myself.
“I chose to fight because of Antul,” he said. “Because I don't want anybody else enduring what I had to endure.”
I shook my head. “I don't want anything happening to her.”
“Of course you don't,” he said. “I can see that the two of you care about each other a lot. But ask yourself this – what kind of a world do you want to live in? And maybe more importantly, what kind of a life can you two have together if nothing ever changes here?”
I didn't say a word and merely stared down into my glass. I didn't want to share what was going through my mind with him. But when I glanced up and saw the way he was looking at me, I had a feeling he already knew.
“Unless of course, you were thinking of building a life with her somewhere other than Unduth,” he said.
“Could you blame us?”
“No, not at all,” he said. “Though, I won't lie and tell you that I wouldn't be a little bit disappointed.”
“Disappointed?”
Yurat nodded. “That you could turn your back on your people like that,” he said. “When your people need you the most.”
I had no answer to that and so, I remained silent and simply stared down into the glass of liquor I was never going to drink.
Chapter Three
Hatare
I walked through the encampment with Manyr, talking to people and receiving plenty of adoration – adoration I did not want or feel comfortable receiving. I knew what she and Yurat were up to. By splitting up Byr and me, it gave them each time alone with us to work on us about joining their rebellion.
I wasn't sure if Manyr thought that having people heaping praise on me was going to win me over, but if that's what she thought, she was going to be in for a rude awakening.
To her credit though, she didn't push her agenda or politics on me. In fact, we spent most of the afternoon just getting to know more about one another. She asked me all about my life in Kinray, wanting to know what it was like growing up as the daughter of one of the most powerful men on the planet. Having grown up on the fringes, she couldn't conceive of the world I'd grown up in – the world she now wanted to burn to the ground.
Truth be told, she and I shared a vision about that – wanting to see Unduthian society shattered into a million little pieces.
“So, this Academy,” she started, “they train you to be a wife?”
We stopped beside a small stream that ran alongside the camp and sat down, enjoying a pleasantly cool afternoon. All around us, birdsong filled the air, as did the smell of cookfires burning within the encampment.
“They train you to be a proper Unduthian woman,” I said. “Who is then fit to be the wife of a prominent man in society.”
“That sounds – ”
“Like a fate worse than death.” I finished for her.
Manyr laughed and nodded. “Yes, that it does,” she said and then grew serious again. “Would you have really killed yourself?”
“That was my plan,” I said quietly. “I didn't feel I had any other way out.”
“So, what stopped you?”
I gave her a soft smile. “A – friend of mine. She worked in our household, but she was always a friend to me,” I said. “She convinced me that taking my own life wasn't the way and that I should run. Run far away.”
Manyr remained silent a moment, trailing her fingertips in the cool water of the stream. Despite my earlier insecurities and petty jealousies, I was starting to grow quite fond of Manyr. I no longer thought she was trying to steal Byr from me. I just thought that she was a true believer in the cause she was fighting for and recognized him for the asset to that cause that he was. I could definitely see in her eyes that she was willing to do whatever it took to convince him to join them.
Not that I could blame her for that. Byr was a big, strong man – and was highly intelligent. I had no doubts that he could be a real leader of their rebellion – and knew that people would follow him. Though he could be a little quiet at times, he was a compelling man. He had a forceful presence about him – a presence I didn't even think he realized he had.
But as a person – and not the recruiter for the rebellion – I really liked Manyr.
“Well, I think that for both you and Byr, your friend helped you make a wise decision,” she said. “After all, it allowed the both of you to find each other.”
I nodded. “Yes, and for that I am thankful,” I said. “I never expected to find somebody I cared about, but – ”
“Life has a strange way of intervening,” she said. “And helping us to see and find those things we might have otherwise missed out on.”
“Absolutely,” I said. “What about you? Is there somebody in your life?”
A look of profound sadness crossed her face – it was like a cloud covering the sun. She looked at me with eyes shimmering with tears she was refusing to let fall and her eye markings glowed faintly. She scrubbed at her eyes, wiping away the tears and clenched her jaw as she tried to compose herself.
“His name was Puyt,” she said. “He lived a couple of villages over and I met him in the marketplace one day. He was a beautiful boy. Big, strong – in a lot of ways, Byr reminds me of him. I think that's why I had such a strong reaction when we met – and I apologize if it seemed like I was throwing myself at him or something. That was never my intent.”
I reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She looked at me as a lone tear rolled down her cheek.
“Anyway,” she said. “He and I joined this unit together. When we were younger, we talked a lot about helping build a better world and decided to do something about it. We were out on a raid together about a year ago now. The intel we had was bad and we walked into a trap. Gravus and his men were there waiting for us. Twenty of us went in and only three of us got out.”
“Oh, Manyr,” I squeeze her hand tighter. “I'm so sorry.”
Her smile was grim and rueful. “I remember seeing it happen like it was only yesterday,” she said. “We were in full retreat. We'd just gotten back to the transports and Puyt lifted me in – practically picked me up and threw me, actually. And when he grabbed on to the rail to climb in, I saw him take three shots to the back.”
She sniffed loudly and didn't even bother trying to check the tears that were rolling down her face. I put my other hand on top of hers and held it there, trying to bring her some sense of comfort – an empty gesture, I was sure.
“His eyes were on mine the whole time,” she said. “He hung on to that rail and I reached out to grab his hand. To try and pull him aboard. Two more shots hit him in the back and that was it. He fell off the back of the transport and we took off. That was the last time I saw him.”
I wanted to pull her into an embrace, but hesitated. Though I was starting to really like her, the truth was, we still barely knew each other and I didn't know how she'd react. I didn't want to overstep my bounds – it was the Unduthian training still etched into my brain. I settled for tightening my grip on her hand, just to let her know she wasn't alone.
“I can't even imagine how horrible that must have been for you,” I said softly. “I'm so sorry, Manyr. I truly am.”
She looked at me and gave me a grim little smile – a smile that didn't come close to reaching her eyes.
“It's not your fault,” she said. “I think, if there is any silver lining to be found, it's that after Puyt's death, I became a better sold
ier. A better fighter. It didn't take me long to go from foot soldier to where I am now – one of Yurat's lieutenants. But there isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish for Puyt to come back to me – even if I am never anything more than one of Yurat's trigger pullers. Of course, if I'm being really honest, there are days I wish Puyt and I had simply moved away somewhere together and started our lives together – somewhere there wasn't an armed civil war in progress.”
I looked down and a small smile touched the corners of my mouth. I knew exactly how she was feeling. There were times I wished that Byr and I would simply go somewhere we could start a new life together. Somewhere far away from class warfare, strict cultural norms, and of course, the presence of a rebellion trying to overthrow the government.
Somewhere we could just be free together and be free to love each other.
“It's why I fight,” she said softly. “I don't want anybody to ever have to feel like I feel.”
I understood exactly what she meant – and felt exactly the same way. I just didn't know that I could do what she was doing. I knew how to defend myself thanks to plenty of lessons – lessons I should never have had thanks to those rigid Unduthian societal rules – but I didn't consider myself to be much of a fighter.
She scrubbed at her face with her hands, trying to wipe away the tears. “Anyway,” she said, “that's in the past. I need to keep my focus in a forward facing direction. Always forward.”
That sounded like something straight out of Yurat’s playbook. And in thinking of Yurat, my mind immediately went to Byr. I wondered how he was doing – and how he was holding up under the pressure I knew Yurat was exerting on him to join. I knew that Byr already had plenty of sympathies with the rebels – who wouldn't, having endured what he had. Would Yurat find that piece of leverage he needed to pull Byr to their side?
And if he did decide to throw in with the rebels, what would that mean for us? Would he expect me to join him? Would he insist that I stay away from the fighting? Was becoming a part of their fight something I wanted?
I wanted Unduth to be a better place for all of us – regardless of what family we were born into. But I knew a war was going to kill a lot of people. They always did. I wanted Unduth to be a different, better place for everybody. I just wasn't sure what the right path to get there was.
Rocor (Dragons of Kratak Book 5) Page 91