Another difference between the tribes and the men of the Daliphana that they had yet to grasp. In the tribes, it was a fight to survive day to day, year to year. Which meant that if someone couldn’t do their part—couldn’t hunt or contribute to the tribe in some other meaningful way—they were expected to leave.
For the good of the tribe.
It was harsh, but it was what had kept them alive all these years. Putting the good of the tribe above the individual.
Those slaves would’ve required medicine and food, and would’ve slowed the tribe down as it traveled. And they couldn’t have given anything back.
Any member of the tribes would’ve made the same decision she had. Even if they’d been the slave that was going to be sacrificed. But that wasn’t the way of the Daliphana. They didn’t understand what it was like to live in a world of constant privation.
She knew. She’d seen their baru herds penned behind fences, docile as can be, waiting for the slaughter. And their fields full of fruit trees and grain for as far as the eye could see.
They didn’t understand. How could they?
Luden held out his hand. “Give me the necklace.”
“What? No. It’s mine.” She gripped the necklace as she backed away from him.
“The Council voted last night. We can’t trust you to act in the interests of the tribe anymore. Give it to me.”
“The Council voted? What are you talking about? I am a member of the Council.”
Luden continued to advance on her. “You weren’t here when we met, so we voted without you.”
“And what was the vote count?”
“Three for, two against.”
“Then with my vote it’s three-three.”
He shook his head. “It’s too late for that, K’lrsa. Give it to me.”
She backed away another step, shaking her head. “I don’t know why you even bother to ask the others to vote. Your men always vote with you.”
He narrowed his eyes as he took a step closer. “That’s because they understand what’s best for this tribe.”
She laughed. “Is that so? You can say this when you’ve never lived here. When you don’t know what it’s like. When you don’t understand why we do what we do.” She shook her head. “You’re going to get us killed.”
He took another step towards her.
She tightened her grip on the necklace. “One more step, Luden, and I’ll send you to the middle of the camp.”
He laughed softly, relaxing. “See? I told them you were dangerous. Would you really turn that weapon on one of your own? Just because we disagree?” He shook his head. “Admit it. You can’t be trusted with a tool so powerful.” He held his hand out once more and raised his voice. “For the good of the tribe, you need to surrender the necklace.”
“No. The gods said I’m the only one that can use it. Ask Vedhe.”
He tilted his head to the side. “What happens to it if you die?”
She stared at him a long, long moment, trying to figure out whether he was actually threatening her or just curious. “It goes back to the Hidden City.”
He nodded once. “Fine. You can keep the necklace for now, but if you want to remain a member of this tribe you’ll use it how we say to use it and when we say to use it. And only then.”
He stalked away from her, back rigid. As always, everyone moved out of his path.
She glared at his back, fantasizing about how good it would feel to fling him into the very center of the barren lands. She imagined him wandering there forever, lost and starving and alone, until he died.
It was a good dream.
Unfortunately, she still needed him. Without Luden the newcomers would be impossible to control and their entire tribe would fall apart.
Chapter 7
She found Vedhe sitting outside a tent—one from the Daliph’s soldiers. Even though K’lrsa suspected Vedhe was even younger than she was, at times like this she seemed as old and wise as one of the wise ones. Silently, she offered K’lrsa a steaming cup of tea.
K’lrsa took it and sat down next to her. “So you’ve heard? They took me off the Council.”
Vedhe shrugged one shoulder. “Just as well. You can’t lead the Council and kill Aran at the same time.”
“I don’t want to kill Aran. If I never see him again, it’ll be too soon.”
Vedhe didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. They had this argument most days. Vedhe thought Aran should die and she thought she and K’lrsa were the ones that would have to do it. She was just waiting for K’lrsa to come to the same conclusion so they could act.
“Luden tried to take my necklace, too.”
“I’m not surprised. He wants to lead the tribe. That means he needs to control all sources of power. As long as you have the necklace, you’re a threat.”
“Did he ask for your viewing tube?”
Vedhe smiled slightly, her scars making it look more like a grimace. “No. But he doesn’t see power in it. He thinks himself a good judge of others. He doesn’t need this to see what he already knows.”
K’lrsa sipped at her tea, savoring the slight taste of mint. “I don’t understand. I thought Luden was a good man. Not the man for me, but still a good man. I thought they all were.” She tried not to look directly at Vedhe as she said the words. It was Vedhe who’d vetted each one before they were allowed to join the tribes.
Why hadn’t she seen the kind of man Luden was?
Vedhe shrugged. “I could give you a reason that each person in this tribe deserves to die. Even you. Like that man there? He took pleasure in whipping Murin. Does that make him a bad man?” She took a sip of tea before continuing. “I could also give you a reason each person here is good and should be saved. That same man? He adored his son. Would have done anything for him. That’s why he joined the army. Because it was the only way to earn enough to feed his family.
“But his son was killed last year and his wife died of fever while he was away. So he left when he had the chance. But what he’d done in service to the Daliphate stayed with him. It corrupted him so that he enjoys an act like whipping Murin. But he’d never do something like that on his own. Only under orders. Only at the will of someone else. So how do I judge? What makes one person worth saving and another irredeemable?”
She turned to K’lrsa. “The viewing tube shows me the truth about someone, but I have to weigh what I see and judge it myself.”
“What do you see when you look at Luden?”
She sighed. “He is a good man. He loves his family. Cares for those around him. Wants what’s best for everyone. But he’s arrogant. He believes he’s right. Always. And he’s rigid in his beliefs. He doesn’t understand how different life here is. He doesn’t want to change from what’s worked for him in the past. So he won’t. Unless he’s forced to.”
K’lrsa cradled the cup of tea in her hands, relishing the warmth against her skin as she stared into its watery depths. “I don’t want to fight him, Vedhe. I don’t want to fight any of them. But…”
Vedhe nodded. “I know.”
After a long silence, K’lrsa told Vedhe about the camp from the night before and what she’d done and what Luden had told her when she returned.
She bit her lip, dreading the answer, but asked, “Would you have done the same? Would you have sent them back?”
Vedhe was silent for a long time while K’lrsa studied the angry red scars that patched her face and arms. K’lrsa thought of their time in the labyrinth and those two little kids chasing one another around the clearing as Vedhe sat with her family, laughing and happy.
She’d had a life once, and a family who loved her. Until the men of the Daliphana took that from her and made her a slave. A slave just like those men K’lrsa had sent to their deaths.
Vedhe set her cup down, but she didn’t look at K’lrsa as she answered. “I don’t know. I know the right answer—that they needed to go back because we can’t feed more than we already have, especially since the
y were likely weak and diseased—but…”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I’m not sure I could’ve seen them that way. I would’ve seen a man with brown hair and thought of the man who crossed the desert with me but died the day after we found you. Or seen a man with a scar above his eye and thought of the man who lent me his strength when I was too weak to stand by myself that last day before we reached Crossroads…”
She looked at K’lrsa. “Knowing that, that they were men with stories like mine, I’m not sure I could’ve done it.”
K’lrsa sagged under the weight of what she’d done. Even the soldiers she’d sent back. They’d each had a story, too. A life to go back to. A wife. A child. A mother. A father.
But she’d taken that from them in a moment. With barely a thought. And no effort.
Vedhe nudged her foot. “That doesn’t mean you made the wrong choice.”
K’lrsa nodded, biting her lip. “How do we stop this, Vedhe?”
Vedhe’s lips twitched with the hint of a smile. “Kill Aran.”
“I can’t …”
“You’ll have to someday. Or this will continue until he’s destroyed us or we’ve destroyed ourselves.”
Chapter 8
Things were actually quiet for the next few days. The tribe couldn’t stay camped by the barren lands—they needed food and the land couldn’t support them for any length of time—so they rode out onto the plains in search of a herd of baru.
It took them three full days to track the herd and bring down just two baru.
It would’ve gone better if the newcomers hadn’t decided that they knew better yet again. They insisted that the herd could be ridden down from horseback, not understanding how fleet-footed the creatures were or how much better they could run on sand than any horse.
It was true that K’lrsa had once brought down a baru from horseback, but only because she was riding Fallion, and only because she’d spent the better part of a week trying. But the soldiers wouldn’t listen to her. They assumed if she’d done it once, then they could do it, too.
They spent an entire day chasing the herd, shooting after them as the slender creatures bounded away to the safety of the desert.
One soldier was even foolish enough to chase the baru so far into the sands that his horse sank so deep it couldn’t move. They’d had to stop and help the poor animal and his rider get free before they could regroup and try again.
Finally, finally, the newcomers bothered to listen and let the Riders chase the herd towards a spot where five of their best archers waited to shoot as the herd stormed by.
Of those five, only two managed a kill shot. Luden and K’lrsa.
The newcomers surrounded Luden, patting him on the back, congratulating him on his kill. But none acknowledged K’lrsa or what she’d done. She exchanged knowing looks with a few of her fellow female Riders. The men might not see what was happening, but the women did.
And it wasn’t good.
That night the tribe feasted on the baru and drank fermented mare’s milk, singing and dancing until dawn. K’lrsa watched from the shadows, sandwiched between F’lia, who wasn’t feeling well, and M’lara, who’d insisted on being part of the excitement but had fallen into an exhausted sleep shortly after the moon rose.
Vedhe, surprisingly, was right there in the midst of the dancing, showing everyone the dances of her home—which seemed to involve a lot of kicking and shouting—laughing the whole time.
K’lrsa wished she could put aside her past hurts and live in the moment like that, but she just couldn’t.
No matter how hard she tried or how much she wanted to.
The next morning they turned back towards where the Daliph’s soldiers had camped twice before, knowing, even though none of them said it, that Aran wasn’t done testing them yet.
And, sure enough, there was another camp waiting for them.
But this time, instead of a huddled mass of slaves, they’d brought women and children. Twenty of them, the children ranging in age from babes held in their mother’s arms to almost grown.
K’lrsa felt ill. She knew what she should do—send them back, there still wasn’t enough food to feed them and showing Aran any sign of weakness would be a mistake. But what she wanted to do instead was race down the hill and gather them close. Tel them they were safe now. That no one would hurt them ever again.
Her hands tightened on Fallion’s reins. Even from this distance, the bruises on the women and older girls were clearly visible.
Vedhe watched the camp, her body shaking, her face twisted with hate.
K’lrsa tensed, ready to intervene if Vedhe moved towards the camp.
Luden rode his horse in front of K’lrsa, his eyes flinty with command. “Give me the necklace.”
“No. You want a weapon from the gods, go to the Hidden City and get one for yourself.”
“Maybe I will. But not today.” He tried to ride his horse closer, but Fallion snapped at him.
He glared at Fallion before turning his attention back to her. “If you send them back, I’ll kill you.”
“You’ll kill me?” she scoffed, surprised at how quickly he’d turned from wanting to sleep with her to wanting to kill her just because she wouldn’t do what he said. “Tell me, Luden, if you’re such a great leader, how much baru meat do we have left from our hunt?”
“None.”
“And what else are we going to eat for the next week? Did we gather any greens? How much grain is left? Have any of your men killed a bird? Or a rabbit?”
“I don’t know. Why does that matter right now?”
“It matters because if you want to save those people, you need to be able to feed them. And us. You want to be a leader, it’s a good idea not to let your people starve.”
“We’ll figure something out. But we’re not sending those children back.”
“Don’t you get it?” She leaned forward. “Aran is testing us. He’s probing us for weakness. If we don’t send those children back, he’ll bury us under a flood of women and children until we starve. We can’t support that many people. It doesn’t matter if we want to, we physically can’t do it.”
“Then we starve. I’d rather do that than kill my own wife and child. Or watch you do it.”
“What?”
Luden pointed towards the camp where the soldiers had gathered together to watch them, looking smug as they spoke back and forth softly.
He rattled off a series of names so fast she couldn’t even catch them before turning back to her. “Those are our families down there.”
“But not all of them.” Delin rode his horse closer. “I see my son, but not my eldest daughter.”
Luden nodded. “I know. Same here. My youngest daughter, my son, and my wife are down there, but he still has my eldest daughter.”
As they watched, a small boy broke away from camp. Shouting for his father, he ran towards them, arms outstretched.
One of the soldiers slowly raised his bow, casually aiming it at the boy’s back.
Without even thinking—or touching the necklace—K’lrsa willed the soldier into the midst of the barren lands, hoping he’d wander there forever until he died.
Luden flinched, but he didn’t look at her.
Another soldier grabbed a bow and took aim.
K’lrsa banished him, too. And then all of the soldiers, leaving the women and children alone in the camp, staring around themselves in wide-eyed terror, unable to understand what had happened.
“Go,” she shouted, reining Fallion away. “Comfort your families.”
The men rode towards the camp, their families crying out in relief.
But Luden followed her and blocked Fallion’s path with his horse. “You didn’t touch the necklace this time.”
She met him, glare for glare. “No. I didn’t. Seems I don’t need to anymore.”
He lunged for her, but Fallion was too quick for him. He used his broad chest to block the other horse and bit at Luden’s arm, missing by
the merest breath.
A deliberate miss.
A warning.
Luden sat back. “Give me the necklace.”
“No. I didn’t use it against you, did I? And I didn’t send your family away either.”
“You wanted to.”
“But I didn’t.”
This time.
The thought hung in the air between them as they stared each other down.
They both knew that if she stayed with the tribe long enough there was going to come a day when she’d choose to disobey the Council and follow her own conscience.
The way he looked at her, Luden wasn’t going to let that happen.
Even if he had to kill her.
Chapter 9
All throughout camp that night fathers sat with their children, smiling, holding them tight, talking and whispering back and forth with soft loving smiles, as their wives sat by their sides.
K’lrsa watched from the shadow of her tent, remembering all the nights she’d sat at the campfire with her dad, talking to him about her day, asking him to show her how to make a snare or fletch an arrow. How he’d smiled patiently and leaned close, guiding her tiny hands in his, as he explained what to do.
She wanted to flee, to run away like she had almost every other night, but she couldn’t. She was frozen, unable to escape the pain she felt at the sight of families reunited in a way hers could never be again.
Luden was nearby laughing his deep, throaty laugh as his son stood before him, arms stretched wide telling a story. His daughter slept in his arms, nestled against his chest, sucking on her thumb. His wife sat next to him, her hand resting on his knee, a soft smile on her face.
M’lara raced past the tent, giggling as some boy chased after her. They were playing a version of tag that involved kisses on the cheek instead of touches on the arm, giddy with the innocence of youth.
K’lrsa bit her lip. This was just a lull before the battle.
Rider's Resolve (The Rider's Revenge Trilogy Book 3) Page 4