Rider's Resolve (The Rider's Revenge Trilogy Book 3)

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Rider's Resolve (The Rider's Revenge Trilogy Book 3) Page 6

by Alessandra Clarke


  No. She would’ve probably saved the tribes—M’lara and D’lan and F’lia deserved that even if no one else did—but then she would’ve left, returned to Badru and her own little piece of happiness and left the tribes to fend for themselves.

  “So why tell me this now? Don’t the tribes still need me to protect them?”

  He raised one eyebrow, a smile quirking the corners of his mouth. “Not the way you’ve been doing it lately. You’ve been banished to your tent. Luden has taken control of the tribe. And you let those women and children stay even though you know what will happen.”

  K’lrsa closed her eyes, fighting against the despair that threatened to overwhelm her. “I couldn’t just kill them.”

  “Which is why you’ll lose if you don’t take the fight to Aran.” His eyes flashed, glowing like a bonfire, as he stepped closer to her. “Because Aran will use any weapon, harm any person, to win. But you, given a choice of some of the most powerful weapons in the world chose that necklace. And you, knowing what it would mean, let those children stay. Your weakness will doom your people.”

  She glared at him, jaw clenched so tight her teeth hurt. “It’s not weakness to care about others.”

  “It is in times of war. If you fight with compassion while your enemy fights with ruthless efficiency, you will lose every time.”

  “But…I don’t want to be like him! I don’t want to be the type of person who could kill a child.”

  “Which is why men like him win. Because there is always a point where you have to stand and fight with everything you have no matter the consequences. If you can’t do that, you lose.”

  His words hit her like physical blows and she sank to the hot desert sands, pulling her knees tight against her chest and rocking back and forth.

  He was right. Someone had to stand against Aran, no matter the personal cost. And no matter the monster they became because of it…

  Chapter 12

  Father Sun loomed over K’lrsa, the sun shining from behind him, outlining his dark form. “I need an answer. Are you ready to kill Aran?”

  “Instead of destroying the Toreem Daliphate?”

  “No. You still need to destroy the Daliphate to fulfill your vow.”

  She rested her chin on her knees. “Is that even possible? How do you destroy a whole society?”

  But even as the words left her mouth she flashed to memories from the Hidden City—fainter now because she’d tried her best to ignore them—of civilization after civilization that had fallen over the millennia. Some under the weight of their own hubris, some victims to time and change, and some the target of determined enemies.

  It was possible.

  Not easy. But possible. Even the greatest could fall.

  She chewed on her lip. “Can you bring Badru back?”

  “I think so.”

  “What about Herin? And Lodie? And Garzel? They were the same, right? They entered the Hidden City in their physical bodies. And that dragon wasn’t real?”

  He turned and the sunlight flashed past him, blinding her for a moment. “Lodie never left the labyrinth.”

  “I could go back for her. Or Badru could. If we brought her out of the labyrinth she could come with us. She did kill Aran once before.”

  He shook his head. “No. I’m sorry. It’s been too long. Her physical body is gone. She didn’t care for it.”

  “Oh.” K’lrsa sat back. “But I can have Badru back?”

  “Yes.”

  K’lrsa bit her lip, sensing a trap but not knowing what it was. She stared into the distance, thinking, trying to figure out what was nagging at the edge of her mind. “Balance…”

  “What?”

  She looked up at him. “Death walker magic requires balance. A life for a life. That’s why Sayel had to die to bring Badru back.”

  He watched her, his face impassive.

  “If you bring Badru out of the Hidden City, there has to be balance, right? You can’t just let him leave. You’ll have to kill someone to free him. He wouldn’t want that. I don’t either.”

  “Even if that one death could save the world?”

  She shook her head. “I won’t kill someone to bring him back. Not again.”

  “No. You just kill people to kill them.”

  She flinched. “I killed those men to save the tribes.”

  “You could’ve sent them back one-by-one and let Aran kill them instead.”

  K’lrsa bit her lip. It was true. No one had forced her to kill those men. She’d chosen to do so. Because a part of her had wanted to punish them for coming to her home and threatening her people. For following a man like that.

  She shook her head. “This is different. I don’t want Badru back if you have to kill someone to make it happen.”

  “I won’t kill anyone. I just need to use the last life spark of someone who’s already dying to open the door.”

  “Who?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She stood, glaring at him. “Answer me. Whose death are you going to use to bring him back?”

  He met her gaze, his eyes burning steadily. “It doesn’t matter. They’re already dying.”

  “Who. Is. It?”

  He shook his head. “We don’t have time for this. Will you kill Aran if I bring Badru back to you?”

  “This person, they’re already going to die no matter what I say?”

  He nodded.

  K’lrsa hesitated a moment longer. But she needed to defeat Aran. And she wanted Badru back. More than anything. And Father Sun said whoever it was was already dying. She wasn’t killing them, just giving their death meaning.

  “Fine. Yes. I’ll do it.”

  “So be it.” The sun flared so bright she had to shield her eyes.

  When she lowered her hand, Father Sun was gone, leaving her alone in the midst of desolation. She shivered, suddenly scared.

  Chapter 13

  She awoke to screaming.

  It was the darkest time of night and F’lia’s screams tore through the air, throbbing with agony.

  K’lrsa scrambled free of her sleeping roll and made her way across the tent to F’lia’s side. Her best friend—sweet and kind and bright as a summer’s day—writhed on the ground, her face sheened with sweat, the cords in her neck sticking out from her skin as she screamed once more.

  “Help,” K’lrsa shouted, surprised no one was there yet.

  Luden entered the tent, a small bag tucked under his arm.

  “Go away. I don’t want you here.”

  F’lia’s hand clutched K’lrsa’s as she screamed once more, her face contorted in agony.

  “I’m the best healer we have.”

  K’lrsa didn’t care. She didn’t want him there. She didn’t trust him.

  F’lia screamed again, the sound wrenched from her body as if someone had reached down her throat and grasped her insides and yanked them out.

  Luden pushed K’lrsa aside, resting his hand against F’lia’s forehead and then pulling back the horsehair blanket covering her. F’lia’s body arched off the ground as she keened through gritted teeth, the muscles of her belly contracting.

  Luden dug through the bag until he found a small packet of herbs. “Here. Take these. Steep them in boiling water until the liquid turns dark brown and bring it to me.”

  “What do you know about women in childbirth?” K’lrsa demanded.

  “Nothing. Now go.”

  As K’lrsa continued to hesitate, Vedhe pushed her way into the tent, a pile of blankets in her arms. “I can help. I have the knowledge I learned in the Hidden City.”

  “You learned healing there?” K’lrsa searched her own memories but found nothing. “I didn’t.”

  Vedhe smiled, her scars twisting into a horrible sort of grimace. “I lasted longer, remember?”

  F’lia screamed once more, and Luden turned on them. “Get hot water. Brew the tea. My grandmother was a healer. She used to use that when women were having a difficult labor. Your friend is
dying while you stand there doubting me.”

  K’lrsa showed Vedhe the packet. She nodded. “He’s right. It will help. Go.” Vedhe pushed K’lrsa out of the tent.

  K’lrsa stumbled out of the tent, glaring at the small crowd that had gathered outside. “Well, don’t just stand there. Someone get a fire going. We need hot water. Lots of it. And a drinking cup.”

  As F’lia’s screams spiraled into the night, K’lrsa paced outside waiting for the water to boil, wondering why she was bothering. Father Sun had said she was dying. That he was going to take her life spark to free Badru.

  Why hadn’t he told her it was F’lia she was trading for Badru?

  It wasn’t fair. Hadn’t she lost enough already?

  K’lrsa spent the rest of the night trying to figure out what was happening inside the tent from the sound of F’lia’s screams. As the moon slowly slid towards the horizon, they became weaker and weaker, until, finally, in the gray time between when the moon set and the sun appeared—the Trickster’s time—the screams stopped altogether.

  Before K’lrsa could push her way into the tent and demand to be at her friend’s side, Vedhe emerged.

  “The baby?” K’lrsa froze, staring at the small, small cloth-wrapped bundle cradled in her arms.

  Vedhe nodded, tears pooling in her eyes and running down her scarred cheeks. “He was too young to survive. He couldn’t breathe.” She shook her head as she clutched him close.

  “There was nothing you could do for him?”

  Vedhe frowned. “You don’t need the memories of the Hidden City to know that a child born this early can’t survive.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I just…” She reached out a hand and touched the cloth. It was soft, and there was a small design stitched in the corner—F’lia’s work. The yarn and fabric had to have cost a fortune, but F’lia would’ve wanted the best for him. “Can I see him?”

  “No. He wasn’t…right.” Vedhe stared into the distance as if hearing someone call her name. “I have to go.”

  Without another glance or word to K’lrsa, she walked out of camp, the baby still cradled in her arms, disappearing into the gray of pre-dawn. K’lrsa wanted to run after her and insist on seeing the baby, but Vedhe had already disappeared into the Trickster’s land. Instead, K’lrsa ducked into the tent, holding her breath, scared that F’lia too had died or was dying.

  But Luden knelt at her side, wearied, but triumphant.

  F’lia slept, her chest rising and falling softly.

  “Will she make it?” K’lrsa knelt by his side, stroking F’lia’s sweaty hair back from her forehead.

  “Yes, I think so. She’ll be weak for a few days. She lost a lot of blood. But I think she’ll recover given time and rest.”

  K’lrsa started to cry—great, big wracking sobs that she couldn’t hold back.

  It wasn’t for the baby—she’d grieve him later. It was because her friend had survived. She was overcome with relief that the price she’d paid for Badru’s return hadn’t been F’lia’s life.

  It was wrong to be so happy in a moment like this. F’lia had loved the babe with all of her being no matter what type of man the father had been, and she’d be devastated when she finally awoke.

  But, nonetheless, K’lrsa was relieved. She couldn’t lose anyone else. She didn’t have any more to give.

  Luden stood. “You should get some rest. We all should.”

  K’lrsa glanced at F’lia one last time then stood and followed Luden from the tent. He was right. She needed her rest.

  Badru was coming back. And together they would kill Aran and destroy the Toreem Daliphate.

  Chapter 14

  The early morning sun blinded K’lrsa as she stepped outside the tent.

  Knowing that F’lia was alive, she finally let herself succumb to the terror and exhaustion of the night before, standing just outside the tent, her entire body trembling. When she could finally move again, she stumbled in the direction of the tent Vedhe and M’lara had shared. As much as she wanted to be close to F’lia right now, she couldn’t sleep in the same tent as her—it stank with the bitterness of blood and the reek of sweat.

  “K’lrsa. Wait.” Luden ran after her and she turned slowly, too exhausted to even focus on his face as he approached.

  Had something happened to F’lia? So soon?

  He walked right up to her and, before she could react, snatched her necklace. The chain broke with an audible snap as he jerked his hand back.

  She lunged for him, but two men she hadn’t even noticed held her back as Luden calmly walked away, whistling softly to himself.

  “Luden! That isn’t yours. It’s mine. Give it back.”

  One of the men tightened his grip on her arm until she winced in pain. “He’s the leader. He should have it.”

  “It was given to me by the gods.” She tried to wrench herself free, but she was just too tired.

  “Then maybe they’ll take it back for you,” the man sneered.

  They shoved her inside the tent, and she collapsed to her knees, too exhausted to fight. Or to even really care.

  It was all falling apart.

  How was she supposed to save her people when she couldn’t even protect her sister and best friend? And how was she supposed to defeat a man like Aran when she couldn’t manage to stand against one mortal man whose only strength was his ability to lead others?

  She curled up on Vedhe’s sleeping roll, and willed herself to sleep, praying the gods would leave her alone for just this one night.

  In the morning she’d figure out what to do next.

  For now she just wanted to hide.

  Chapter 15

  By the time K’lrsa awoke it was well past midday. Vedhe sat just outside the tent, flanked by two of Luden’s men, quietly sewing a piece of the saddle she’d finally agreed to use for Kriger. She nodded towards the fire where a small pot hung, full of water, a small amount of sour greens, and what looked to be the carcass of a rabbit. “Help yourself.”

  K’lrsa spooned up a bowl full of the soup, grateful for something fresh to eat rather than a ration bar taken from Daliph’s soldiers. “Thank you. How’s F’lia?”

  “Not well. As soon as she woke she started crying uncontrollably and screaming for the baby and for you. Luden forced her to drink a sleeping draught, but I’m not sure how much good it’s doing other than to keep her quiet.”

  K’lrsa glanced at the two guards. “When did these two arrive?”

  “They were waiting when I returned.” She nodded to her right. “He’s mine.” And to her left. “He’s yours.” She pointed with her chin towards the horse pickets. “Pretty sure they tried to hobble Fallion and Kriger, too.”

  K’lrsa leapt to her feet, almost spilling what was left of the bowl of soup, looking for Fallion’s familiar golden coat. She couldn’t see him.

  Or Kriger.

  “Where are they? If he harmed Fallion…”

  Vedhe patted the ground at her side and waited for K’lrsa to sit back down before she answered. “I’m almost certain they fled. Don’t worry. They can take care of themselves. And it’s better they’re free. They’ll be there when we need them.”

  “Do you really think they’ll be alright?” K’lrsa took a bite of her soup, not even tasting it.

  Vedhe laughed softly. “Oh, they’ll be just fine. It’s the men who tried to take them who might need some time to recover. Murin’s arm is in a sling and Noler’s hand is bandaged. He cussed me out when I saw him. Said Kriger bit him. I said, ‘good’. Served him right for touching my horse.”

  K’lrsa laughed. She hoped Fallion was the one who’d put Murin’s arm in a sling.

  She finished her soup, licking the bowl to make sure she got every last drop, and then watched Vedhe’s slow, delicate stitching for a while before finally adding, “Luden took the necklace.”

  “I heard. And saw. He’s wearing it now, of course. Strutting around camp making sure everyone sees.” Vedhe jabbed her needle th
rough the thin strips of baru hide and cursed as the needle stuck into her finger on the other side. She sucked on the small wound for a moment, before resuming her stitching.

  K’lrsa studied the camp, itching to do something. But what?

  The camp had transformed overnight.

  Before they’d been a small tribe of warriors—Riders and former soldiers, with M’lara and F’lia the only ones that weren’t—nimble and ready to move on a moment’s notice, usually not even bothering to put up tents, or, if they had, putting them up anywhere they wanted, scattered near one another like a handful of pebbles tossed on the ground. The Riders and soldiers had melded together, sharing tents and meals.

  But now there was a small circular enclosure off to the side of the camp ringed with the tents of the newcomers. Children ran amongst the tents and into and out of the enclosed space, but the women from the Daliphana were hidden away behind the barrier.

  Two soldiers stood guard at the entrance. She wasn’t sure whether it was to keep the women in or to keep the rest of the tribe out.

  The Riders’ tents were still scattered where they’d been before, but large gaps marked the spots where the newcomers’ tents had been. Even as she watched, though, the Riders were tearing down their tents and moving them closer together. To a spot opposite the newcomers.

  Where one tribe had existed, two were forming.

  Did Luden notice?

  Did he care?

  Chapter 16

  Vedhe and K’lrsa sat outside their tent the entire day, watching the tribe break apart, slowly and silently, the distrust between the two groups growing with every passing moment.

  Because of where their tent had been placed, she and Vedhe found themselves in the no-man’s land between the two camps. By the end of the day it was just their tent and the one where F’lia still slept. All the other tents were clustered together on either the newcomers’ side or the Riders’ side.

 

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