Rebel's Blade (The Aermian Feuds Book 1)

by Frost Kay

  “Sage, I—”

  “Don’t!” Sage cut him off. “Nothing you say justifies what just happened.” She pointed to the stairwell. “You are supposed to be a protector. Our way of life isn’t that safe, but I didn’t expect that the danger would come from you!” she spat the words out. “You sent him to me, that nightmare…that monster! He’s wicked and soulless! His acts would haunt even the strongest of men.”

  Rafe held his hands out before her. “I didn’t know,” Rafe pleaded. “We weren’t aware of what he’d done. Justice will be served.”

  “You did nothing in there, Rafe! Nothing! I haven’t been able to sleep a full night in almost a month because of what he did. Are those the type of people we are working with? That man should be dead or, at the very least, rotting in a dungeon.”

  “He will be dealt with, I promise, little one.” As Rafe took a step closer, she took a matching step back. His hands closed into fists at his sides. “I will not hurt you.”

  “You already have,” his face fell, but she continued. “But it won’t happen again.” She dusted off Mira’s old dress and switched the subject. “You really plan to kill the king?”

  Rafe turned to the waves crashing against the black rocks below them. “It needs to be done. Have you forgotten all he has done to Aermia and its people?”

  “I have not.” She knew all too well how much the people were suffering. “That doesn’t make it right though.”

  “Have you been compromised, Sage?” Rafe turned, his eyes hard, probing. It was as if he wanted to see into her mind, searching for secrets.

  “No, I have not.”

  “Then how is it,” he said, taking a slow step toward her, “that you went from hating him four weeks ago to defending him now?” He took another step, and another, until he was only a foot away, his gaze intense. She didn’t move. She would be damned if he cowed her. “Does he have some sway over you? You need to tell me the truth, Sage, and I will not judge you for anything you might have done to stay safe. I understand what it is like, living among the enemy. Are any of the rumors true?”

  It took her a second to figure out what he was implying. Sage slapped him hard across the face, fueled by righteous indignation. “How dare you!” she hissed. “I would never do that! I am no whore,” she sneered, “and you know nothing.”

  Rafe never flinched, his amber eyes serious. A red imprint shone in his cheek.

  That must have stung like the devil.

  A slight growl rumbled in his chest, and he finally succeeded in intimidating her. There was always something wild about Rafe. Primitive almost. Restrained aggression. She took a step back.

  “Well then, little one, explain it to me. If you hold no affection for the king, what changed your mind?”

  Should she tell him about the king’s mind? Would it convince him to stay the rebellion’s hand? It was a gamble but it could save Marq’s life. “He’s sick.”

  Rafe snorted. “Well then, it will be easier to get rid of him.”

  Sage looked at him in horror. “That’s not what I meant.” She tapped her head. “He’s sick in here. He is not mentally all there.”

  “How would you know this? My best spies can’t get close to him.” His dark brows arched in question.

  Sage debated telling him about Marq’s visits but knew gossip would reach his ears sooner or later so she might as well use the information to her advantage. “He visited me every day.”

  “Why?” he barked.

  “Honestly? I think he was lonely, and curious about me as well. They may not have had proof, but they suspected me of working with the rebellion. However, he always treated me with kindness and respect. When he was lucid, I could see what made him such a good ruler. I agree with you, he shouldn’t being ‘ruling’. But it’s not him we should worry about, it’s the princes. They are smart and powerful. They have the ability to see through your plans.” She paused. “That’s why it won’t work. If they saw me, I’d be locked up before I uttered ‘swamp apples’.”

  Rafe cocked his head, a sly smile on his face. “They won’t be able to touch you, Sage.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I meant what I said. You will go as my consort to the festival.”

  Why did he have to speak in riddles?

  “Out with it Rafe.” She was tired of talking to him, all she wanted to do was get home and see her family.

  “You will go as my escort to the festival, they will have no choice but to leave you alone.” He paused. “I am going as the Methian prince.”

  What? The Methian’s hadn’t visited in years. Had he lost his mind? That would never work.

  Rafe continued: “The Methians accepted an invitation to the festivities this year. They would have arrived in time for only the last couple days of the festival, but something will happen on their journey, and we will go in their place. The Crown won’t dare touch you if you’re with me. They wouldn’t dare offend the Methians.”

  She tried to poke holes in his plan but nothing came to mind. “What happens to their real prince and his entourage? Are you going to murder them as well? The Methians have always been known for their prowess in battle, they won’t go down without a fight.”

  Rafe clasped his hands behind his back and looked down at her. “It is nothing to concern yourself with, it has been taken care of.”

  Sage dropped her chin, bitterness welling inside her. She hated not having the full plan. It was something they commonly did after all—if no one person had all the information the entire plan could never be given up. She understood this, but it still rankled.

  All at once, exhaustion hit her. The day had barely begun, but it already felt like a lifetime had passed since she’d played chess with Gav. She was done right now. “I need to see my family.” She turned her back on him, moving toward the ascending staircase.

  “You will be debriefed in a couple of days. Later this week, I will send someone to measure you for your costume for the festival. Be ready.”

  Not a question, a demand. Sage looked over her shoulder and lied to Rafe for the first time since meeting him. “I gave you my word, and I meant it. The king is sick, and maybe you’re right, it might be a blessing to put him out of his misery. I’ll be ready when you come for me, just know that I meant what I said, I am truly done after this. You will leave me and my family alone henceforth.”

  Rafe sighed. “Little one…”

  “Those are my terms if you want my cooperation. I want your word.”

  Rafe stared at her and nodded once. “I promise.”

  “Thank you.” With that, Sage turned her back on one of people she had thought of as a true friend.

  Thirty-One

  SAGE

  Sage hiked up the stairs, feeling pinpricks of guilt with every step. She hated that she had to lie to Rafe. She’d accompany him to the festival, but that was it. She would not harm the king, it was a line she wouldn’t cross. She needed to warn one of the princes, or even Mira, if she could only get to them.

  She reached a platform with the ladder at its end and began ascending its rungs. Hand over hand, she climbed until she reached a hatch. Shoving it up and open, sunlight poured in, and she was momentarily blinded. Its rays warmed her, driving away the damp chill from the cave. She hauled herself into the brightly lit space: a small tool shed in the fishing district. Sage glanced through its windows and checked for anyone watching that might spot her exit. No one; the coast was clear. She pulled her hood up and began moving through the outer rim of the district. It still amazed her how extensive this tunnel system was; she had moved underground about a mile from start to finish. The vast combination of caves and tunnels was an excellent asset to the rebellion, one they frequently made use of.

  Sage picked up her pace as she wound through alleys and markets. The closer she got to home, the more she wanted to run. When their smithy finally came into view her heart galloped wildly. She had been dreaming about coming back for weeks, and now she couldn’t
believe she was here at long last. Unseen, she slipped to the back of the forge. The heat was staggering when she entered the room, but even that felt like home. Her poor papa was sitting on a bench, hunched over a dagger, inspecting it.

  “Papa?” she called.

  His faded eyes wandered to her and froze. He rubbed his eyes and blinked several times. “Sage, my little shadow, please be here. Please be real.”

  His plea just about broke her heart. “Papa, it’s me. I’m really here.” It killed her that he thought she was nothing more than a figment of his imagination. Sage rushed to him and fell to her knees in front of him. “Papa, I made it home,” she croaked, wrapping her arms around his middle.

  A large hand settled on the back of her head and stroked her hair, the comforting gesture breaking loose a sob she didn’t know she’d been holding in.

  “My sweet girl, my sweet, sweet girl. My baby girl.” His voice cracked with emotion. “I am so happy you are here. What happened? Are you all right? We never stopped looking for you, we knew you didn’t elope. But it was as if you’d vanished into thin air. Where have you been?”

  She looked up into his anguished face. He had aged so much in a month. His hair looked grayer, his green eyes a little duller, black bags circling them. He tenderly wiped her tears away, which only made her sob harder. She hadn’t thought she’d ever see him again, she realized. It was hard to believe she’d made it home.

  He gave her a warm smile and crushed her against his chest, speaking softly. “Shhhh…it will all be okay,” he crooned into her hair. He rocked her until her tears ran out and her hiccups had all but stopped. She took one more sniff of his smoky shirt before sitting back on her heels.

  “Where have you been?” he asked again, his eyes grave.

  Sage dropped her gaze to his boots. “I’ve been very ill and have been healing for the past couple of weeks. The healers didn’t think I would survive. I would have come home as soon as I woke but I was so weak.” Sage paused, debating how much she should reveal.

  “Is there nothing you can tell me?”

  Her papa knew her well.

  “I was being held captive. I am so sorry for the pain I’ve caused, but no, it would endanger you all if I say more. The less you’re privy to, the better.”

  “Can you at least tell me who took you and why?”

  Sage stared at his top button deciding. He needed to understand the threat to their family. “The Crown took me because they thought I was associated with the rebellion.”

  He slipped a finger under her chin and lifted her head, so she had to meet his eyes. “And are you?”

  She closed her eyes for a moment and swallowed hard. She would never lie to her papa. Just as quietly as he asked, she answered, “Yes.” She refused to open her eyes and see his reaction, so afraid he would be disappointed with her.

  “Open your eyes, my sweet girl.”

  She cracked them and breathed a sigh of relief. It was only love on his face.

  “Sage, I know you would do nothing to harm our family. You have more kindness, love, and compassion than most people of my acquaintance. I am sure whatever you did, you did it because you care about our people and this nation. I can’t find any fault in that, I just want you to stay safe.”

  “Me too, Papa. I have one more loose end to tie up, but then I will be done with it all. I promise.”

  He studied her for a moment and then kissed her forehead. “Okay, if that is what you want.”

  “It is,” she said with conviction. “It’s not what I imagined it to be. Nothing is as clear as I once thought.” Sage paused before changing the subject. “Is Mum inside?”

  He shook his head, “No, she is at the market. She will be home later and so will your brothers. Why don’t you go rest until then?”

  “I am fine, Papa,” she argued. “I can help you with whatever you need.” She looked at the scattered projects around him.

  “No. You are so pale I am surprised you haven’t passed out. You need your rest. Plus, if your mum found out she’d have my neck,” he said dryly. He hefted himself from the bench and lifted Sage to her feet. His arms engulfed her in another bone-crushing embrace. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too, Papa.”

  He released her and shuffled into their home. She followed and noted that everything looked the same but felt so completely different. Her papa opened the door to her room, and she glided through it, stopping in the center to examine everything. Not one item was out of place, and not even a speck of dust had come to rest on the furniture.

  “Your mum said you would return, despite what everyone else said. She wanted to make sure it was ready for you when you did.” He clasped his hands and scrutinized her. “Do you need anything?”

  “No, Papa. Just some rest.”

  He patted her arm and then departed, closing the door behind him. Sage kicked off her soiled slippers and collapsed onto her bed. It was a lot lumpier than the luxurious one she’d had at the palace but this one was familiar, home. For the first time in weeks she truly felt safe. The last thing she saw before closing her eyes were the faded yellow stars on her ceiling, stars her mum had painted long ago. As soon as she shut her eyes, she was asleep.

  Sage jolted awake, breathing hard, a dagger in her hand. Her whole body was covered in a thin film of sweat. She registered a touch on her arm and quickly placed the blade’s tip on the offending hand in warning.

  “It’s okay, love, shhhhhhh… It’s just me, put the dagger down. You’re safe. You’ve no need to be afraid.” Her mother’s voice carried to her through the darkness.

  Sage trembled as her eyes adjusted to the dark. “Mum?” She turned in the direction of gentle voice. A small pool of moonlight highlighted Gwen’s cheekbones and dark eyes. “Are you really here? I’m not dreaming?”

  “Yeah, baby.” Her mum’s hand stroked her hair as she spoke. “You were having a nightmare… I came in when I heard you. Sage.” Her voice broke. “Love, I am so happy you’re home. I’ve missed you so much. We looked, and looked, and looked, but there was no trace of you.” Glimmering tears spilled down her mum’s cheeks.

  Sage dropped the dagger. “I am so sorry, Mum.” And she truly was.

  “Papa told me what the two of you discussed earlier. I am so relieved that you’re safe. We are so thankful to have you home. I love you so much, baby.”

  She pulled Sage into her arms and hugged her like she’d never let go. Her mum gave the best hugs. They were love, warmth, and comfort all rolled into one. Gwen released her, pushing Sage’s midnight hair from her face, running a hand down a dyed lock.

  “I was surprised to see a black head sleeping in this bed rather than the little brown one I’ve always known,” she whispered, a smile in her voice. Gwen dropped her hand and looked straight into Sage’s eyes. She could tell her mum was fighting to keep her emotions off her face.

  “Sage,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “I put you in your nightdress so you’d not sleep in those dirty clothes.” Her mum paused. “I saw them.”

  Her heart sank. Sage made it a point not to look closely at the marks on her body…the brands of her humiliation. She couldn’t shake the sense of powerlessness that they inflicted. She hated that her mum had seen them. It was something she’d hoped to never discuss because the shame just about choked the life out of her. She ought to say something, but she just…she just couldn’t. She occupied her hands by smoothing imaginary wrinkles on the bed, searching for something to say.

  “Sage, look at me.”

  Her eyes raised, and Sage saw more compassion and love in her mum’s expression than she could handle. “I know you must have questions but I…I can’t do this right now. If I do, the nightmares will be…” Trailing off, she reached out and clasped her mum’s hand as a tear dripped down her face. It gutted her that, in hurting her, Serge had also hurt her mum. “Please, Mum. I love you, and I promise that, when I can, I will come to you.”

  Gwen nodded and cuppe
d her cheek. “Okay, love. I understand. I…I have seen nothing like that before. I can’t imagine what must have taken place and how bad it must have been for you…” Her mum choked on a sob. “Oh, my sweet girl, if you need me at all, you have only to ask.”

  Sage’s smile wobbled as fatigue crept back into her body. Her room didn’t seem so comfortable now that it was cloaked in darkness and shadows. She didn’t want to be alone; gulping down her pride, she gave her mum a beseeching look. “Mum, would you stay here with me?”

  Her mum answered by crawling into bed. Sage stared at her, her eyes and heart filling with gratitude.

  “Nothing will hurt you. Your papa, brothers, and I will all care for you.” Her mum patted the bed and Sage scooted down, facing her. She ran her fingers through Sage’s hair, singing a gentle lullaby like she had done when her daughter was just a little girl. She closed her eyes and drifted off to the comfort of her mum’s clear notes sweeping through the air.

  The next day was spent lazing about with her family. She played games with her brothers, helped her father finish a few projects, and picked flowers with her mum. They studiously ignored the fact that she’d been taken captive, and it wasn’t until later that night, as the two of them washed dishes, that her mum even broached the subject of her disappearance.

  Laying down the pot she’d been scrubbing on, her mum touched her arm. Sage set her rag down and steeled herself for the conversation that would happen.

  Gwen’s smile was warm, though there was sadness in her eyes. “We are so happy to have you home. There aren’t enough words to express how thankful we are.” Her mum looked down at the floor, deep in thought. She took a fortifying breath and looked up, her hazel eyes peering into Sage’s face. “There have been rumors since you disappeared. We knew you would never run away or elope, but honestly? That’s what most are assuming, that you’re compromised.” Her mum didn’t soften the blow. “Brace yourself for some backlash from all this. It’s unfair and cruel, but there is nothing we can do but push through it.”