Rider's Revenge (The Rider's Revenge Trilogy Book 1)

by Alessandra Clarke

  K'lrsa shrugged. "At least my father's death will mean something. He won't have died staked out in the middle of the desert for nothing. He'll have died so I can bring down the Daliph."

  Lodie laughed, the sound rolling out of her in gusts of sound that she couldn't control as she clutched at her stomach.

  When she'd finally regained control of herself, she asked, "The Daliph? That's your goal? To kill the Daliph?"

  "Yes. He's killing us. Look what he's done to the Black Horse Tribe. He has to be stopped."

  Lodie continued to chuckle softly as she shook her head. "You're wrong, child. The Daliph isn't responsible for men like G'van. And killing him won't change things. Time only runs in one direction. You can't stop what's already begun."

  K'lrsa gritted her teeth. "I'm not a child. And I can stop this. I just have to cut off the head of the snake."

  "That easy is it? You just ride into Toreem, find the Daliph, kill him, and life is all perfect sunshine every day after?"

  K'lrsa bit her lip. Phrased like that it did sound foolish.

  "I felt the same, you know." Lodie poured soup into a bowl and handed it to her. "That's what I thought when I set out to rescue my sister. I'd go there, I'd find the man who'd taken her, I'd kill him, and we'd both come back home, safe and happy, and everything would go back to the way it was before."

  "What happened?" K'lrsa took a bite, savoring the delicate taste of the spices Lodie had added—spices K'lrsa had never tasted before this journey.

  Lodie shrugged. "I made it to Toreem just fine. But it took me twenty-five years to actually kill the man I'd come to kill. By then my sister wasn't who'd she'd been when she was taken. Neither was I."

  K'lrsa choked on her soup. "Twenty-five years?"

  Lodie nodded. "Twenty-five years. Twenty-five years of…" She shook her head, grimacing at whatever memory she refused to speak of. She took another bite of food before continuing. "When I did kill the man at last, do you know what my sister did?"

  Lodie didn't wait for an actual answer. "She sold me. I was already a slave, but she could've kept me by her side and treated me as if I were free. She didn't. She sold me to Harley." Lodie laughed softly. "I killed the man who held her captive for twenty-five years and she sold me off like any other piece of property. The very next day." She glared at K'lrsa. "I hope she chokes on the profit."

  "Why would she do that?"

  Lodie shrugged. "She had her reasons. But it doesn't change what she did."

  Lodie leaned forward, staring into K'lrsa's eyes. "Know this, child, whatever you think you're going to do, you're wrong. Wherever you think your path is leading, it isn't. You have no idea what is coming."

  "Then tell me."

  Lodie laughed. "I can't tell you anymore than I can describe a sunset to a blind man. Some things just have to be experienced to be understood." She set her bowl down and stood. "Go home, child, before you find that you have no home to go back to. Tonight's your last chance. While most of the men are away getting drunk, saddle up that beautiful horse of yours, and flee. Once Harley sells you, it'll be too late."

  Lodie walked away, leaving K'lrsa alone with her bowl of congealed grains and sour greens. K'lrsa shoved at the food, no longer hungry.

  She watched the bandaged girl stumble her way across the camp. Every step was a struggle, her feet left a bloody trail behind her, but the girl kept going. Somehow, day after day, she'd kept going, never stopping.

  The girl flinched as she passed one of the guards, but he didn't even notice her. What would become of the girl tomorrow? She must've been beautiful once, but now she was scarred all over from her burns, her skin red and shiny.

  Would anyone want her?

  And if no one did…What would Harley do?

  That could've been K'lrsa.

  It still could be. Tomorrow or the next day. Harley could change his mind in an instant. One misstep, one change in the wind, and K'lrsa could be the one in the center tent each night. The one sold off to the lowest whorehouse.

  Or killed and tossed aside like so much trash.

  Each day she traveled with Harley and his men, she risked failure. But she couldn't survive without them. She knew enough by now to know that she'd never make it as far as Toreem without someone to take her there.

  So it was stay and risk death or betrayal, or go home.

  As the bandaged girl reached her fire, K'lrsa held the bowl of millet and greens out to her. The girl took the bowl with a slight nod and sat down to eat, shoveling the food into her mouth in great gulps.

  K'lrsa watched the girl in silence. It would be easy to flee back to her tribe, but no. She had to continue.

  Before she did, though, she'd do what she could for the bandaged girl. She owed her that much.

  Chapter 28

  When Lodie returned to their fire, the sky was dark, the moon not yet risen. The bandaged girl slept on the far side of the fire, curled in on herself, brow creased as she twitched and whimpered at whatever she saw in her dreams.

  Lodie made her way towards her tent without stopping, but K'lrsa reached out and grabbed her leg. "Wait. Please. I'd speak with you."

  Lodie came back and sat beside her, silent, waiting.

  K'lrsa stroked her moon stone with her thumb. It was cold and empty like it had been for the last few days.

  "Lodie, did your moon stone ever work in the Daliphate?"

  "No. I told you. Our gods are desert gods. They have no place in the Daliphate."

  K'lrsa nodded. She'd known already, but she'd needed to hear it. To confirm that there really was no point in holding on to her past any longer. She didn't intend to return from this journey, so why take the stone with her?

  With a deep sigh, K'lrsa removed the moon stone from her neck and cradled it in her palm. She felt one brief flare of warmth from the stone and then it once more sat there as cold and empty as any pebble found on the ground.

  She leaned forward until she was almost touching Lodie. The fire distorted the old woman's wrinkled face until she seemed like a creature from nightmare. "Lodie. If I give you my moon stone, will you take the girl to safety?"

  "Safety?" Lodie snorted. "And where would that be?"

  "My tribe. They'll protect you. Both of you."

  "Will they?" Lodie's response was half-laugh, half query as if she thought K'lrsa naïve to even consider that a possibility.

  But K'lrsa knew her mother, knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't turn them away. Not if they came with word of K'lrsa. "Yes."

  Lodie was silent a long time. "Why? Why should I do this? What is there for me in your tribe? Here, they treat me well. I'm a slave, but I have my own tent, my own food. What will I be to your tribe but some old woman with no family to shelter her?"

  It was true. Resources in the tribes were limited, held close, shared only with those who could contribute. And Lodie was old. She knew herb lore but so did many members of the tribes. And the girl—so pale and different—who would want her for a mate? And what could she actually do?

  But K'lrsa had already thought it through and she knew the one thing that would make the tribe accept Lodie and, through her, the girl.

  "My family will shelter you."

  "Why would they do that?" Lodie picked up the sewing she'd abandoned earlier and started picking at the seam of a shirt K'lrsa could swear she'd sewn earlier that day.

  "Because you're family."

  Lodie froze. She didn't look at K'lrsa, didn't react.

  K'lrsa took her knife out of its sheath. The knife she'd used to kill her father and to swear her vow of revenge.

  She let the blade catch the firelight. It shone bright in the darkness that hovered between them.

  Lodie slowly set the shirt on the ground and looked at K'lrsa, her face still carefully blank.

  K'lrsa sliced her own palm with the knife and waited for the blood to pool and swell. She placed the moon stone in the center of her palm and, as the stone sucked up her blood, held the knife out to
Lodie.

  Lodie trembled as she turned her palm faced upward and held it before K'lrsa. The first glint of the moon shone silver on her weathered skin as K'lrsa sliced the knife across Lodie's palm.

  K'lrsa swallowed back the tears that filled her eyes at the naked hope in the older woman's gaze.

  She grasped Lodie's cut hand with her own, feeling the strength of the older woman as their blood mingled around the moon stone.

  "I, K'lrsa dan V'na of the White Horse Tribe do swear…" K'lrsa paused, wrinkling her brow in thought. She knew Lodie was of the tribes, but which one? And what was her actual tribal name?

  Lodie watched her, but didn't speak, so K'lrsa finally had to ask, "What is your tribal name, Lodie?"

  Lodie looked away.

  The moments slid by as their combined blood started to seep between their hands and drip onto the hard ground. Lodie tried to pull her hand away, but K'lrsa tightened her grip.

  "Lodie?"

  Lodie took a deep breath and turned back to K'lrsa, her head held high, her shoulders thrown back as she sat up straight. "I am L'dia dan G'la of the Summer Spring Tribe."

  K'lrsa gasped. The Summer Spring Tribe had once been the most prosperous tribe of all. Small, yes. But they'd been the keepers of the secrets, the ones most devoted to protecting the shifting sands and the Hidden City. The ones who remembered when all others had forgotten.

  "The Summer Spring Tribe disappeared. Before I was born. No one knows what happened to them. Some say they were swallowed by the sands, taken by the Lady Moon."

  Lodie snorted, the sound like a last gasp before dying. "They didn't disappear. The Daliph slaughtered them—every man, woman, and child."

  K'lrsa stared at Lodie. "Why?"

  Lodie shrugged. "I guess he didn't appreciate my sister's repeated attempts to kill him."

  As K'lrsa continued to stare at her, Lodie squeezed her hand. "Come on, girl. Get on with it. We're going to bleed to death at this rate."

  K'lrsa swallowed heavily before she continued. "I, K'lrsa dan V'na of the White Horse Tribe do swear before the Lady Moon that from this day forward L'dia dan G'la of the Summer Spring Tribe is a sister of my blood. She is my family. All who are my family are hers and all who are her family are mine. Let all know this by the moon stone I give her."

  Lodie's hand spasmed around K'lrsa's before she let go. She turned away, but K'lrsa saw the tears that ran silently down her cheeks.

  K'lrsa took the pendant—it was clean, the blood absorbed into the stone and the cut on her hand nothing more than a shallow mark that was quickly fading away—and bound it around Lodie's neck.

  Lodie clutched the pendant, her head bent down. K'lrsa rested her hands on Lodie's shoulders and whispered, "Sister of my blood, will you help me save this girl? Will you help me balance the scales?"

  Lodie nodded, the silvery light of the moon shining down on her hair like a crown. "Yes."

  She shook K'lrsa's hands off. "But if we're going to do this, we need to act now."

  Chapter 29

  "You should take Fallion." K'lrsa crossed her arms tight across her chest, hurting at the thought of being so far away from him. In the last few days he'd been all that had sustained her.

  Lodie shook her head. "No. Harley would send men after us if we took that horse."

  "But you could outrun him. It wouldn't matter."

  "No. You'll need the horse if you make it to Toreem. If the current Daliph is who I think he is, he has far more appreciation for horse flesh than women. Don't get me wrong, he likes women very much. But they're easy to come by. Horses like that one are not."

  K'lrsa remembered the day her father gave her Fallion. He'd been so happy, almost hopping with excitement as he held the reins out to her, his smile brighter than the sun.

  "For me?" She'd stroked Fallion's neck, marveling at how soft he felt. He'd been so much bigger than her then she'd had to stretch onto tippy toes to scratch his ears.

  "For you. My next Rider." Her father had never told them where he'd found the horse. He'd been gone for months and Fallion was all he'd brought back after all that time.

  Her mother, of course, had been livid, accusing her father of encouraging K'lrsa to chase foolish dreams that would never get her anywhere. But her father had simply shook his head and said, "Enough."

  It wasn't often that K'lrsa's mother was silent, but at the tone in his voice, she'd closed her mouth and walked away.

  K'lrsa hadn't even noticed, so enamored of her new horse and so full of pride that her father thought her worthy of such a prize.

  She shook away the memory. She couldn't afford to reminisce. Not right now.

  "You still need a horse, Lodie. The girl won't make it anywhere on foot. And neither will you if Harley sends men after you."

  Lodie nodded in agreement and they turned their attention to the horse line. Most of the horses were sturdy little desert ponies. Good for traveling long distances, but not at all swift. And not up to carrying two passengers at once.

  Most of the guards had taken their horses with them into town.

  Which left only one horse—G'van's black stallion. The horse stamped its feet and shook its mane when it noticed their attention. Not an ideal choice. Too restive and poorly suited for the desert.

  But it had survived the journey to Crossroads. And it would move fast the first few days as they made their way back across the farmland and the flat, dry wasteland beyond. The horse was almost unmanageable, even for G'van, but with Lodie's special talent for animals, it should be fine.

  "Where's G'van?" K'lrsa looked around camp, but only saw one guard making his rounds.

  Lodie frowned as if she'd tasted something bitter. "He was the first into town. There's an establishment there that keeps women to his liking."

  K'lrsa studied Lodie, trying to decipher the undercurrent to Lodie's words. "He has a type? Really. Because he's been the first in the tent each night since I've been here."

  Lodie snorted. "That he has. Seems the sight of you spurred him on more than usual, but those girls were a pale comparison to what he really wanted." She turned to face K'lrsa, holding her gaze. "G'van's type is a tall, lean, woman with honey-colored skin, long black hair, and green eyes."

  K'lrsa tilted her head to the side, trying to understand. "Like me?"

  Lodie shook her head. "So young…" She leaned forward. "Yes. Exactly like you. I never understood why until I saw you."

  K'lrsa leaned back. "What do you mean?"

  "G'van likes his whores to look like you. Worse yet, he likes to hurt them." Lodie spat on the ground. She wasn't chewing bitter root, so she meant it as an insult. The worst one a member of the tribes could give another.

  "Hurt them?" K'lrsa shuddered, suddenly feeling the chill of the night air. What had she ever done to G'van that he would hurt women just because they looked like her?

  Lodie responded as if K'lrsa had actually asked the question. "For some men, there's no reason why they hurt women. They just like to. But with G'van I suspect it's because he hates your independence. He can't stand the thought of a woman who is strong enough that she doesn't need him."

  "That makes no sense. Why should he even care? Women throw themselves at him all the time."

  "He doesn't want them. He wants you. And you don't want him. If you were weak, maybe you'd admire him. Maybe you'd see him as worthy. Instead you look past his pretty face and beautiful body to the useless man inside." She shrugged. "You're all he could ever want and you see the flaw at his core. Some men would change to be worthy of you. But men like G'van will try to tear you down instead. Or if they can't reach you, they turn on others like you."

  K'lrsa rubbed her arms, trying to warm herself. She shook her head. "I never…Why? I never did anything to him. I just didn't want to be with him."

  Lodie shrugged. "He's not the only one like that in the world, child. And some places…well, they seem to breed men like that."

  K'lrsa shook away the thought. She didn't want to k
now. "So he's gone, then?" she asked.

  "Yes. Until morning."

  "And he won't be back for the horse before then?"

  "Right. He lost a horse last year when he did a little too much damage. Now he takes just enough to pay for a girl, his booze, and some smokeweed."

  K'lrsa grimaced at the image, but she didn't have time to dwell on it. "Good. I'll get the horse. You get ready to leave."

  K'lrsa walked through the dark and silent camp. She glanced upward at the stars that danced in the sky. There were fewer here than in the desert, but they still filled the sky. So beautiful, so peaceful.

  So far above the muck of human existence.

  She wished she could be there amongst them, away from this world and the terrible things she'd learned.

  Her yearning for her family was like a physical pain, clutching at her stomach and stealing her breath. She wanted so much to go with Lodie and the girl—to just ride away to safety and leave G'van, Harley, and the Daliphate far behind.

  But it was too late.

  Even if she did go back, she couldn't unsee what she'd seen or forget what she'd learned.

  The home she longed for was gone. Forever.

  Chapter 30

  K'lrsa led G'van's horse along the edge of the camp, away from the one guard on patrol. There had been two, but the other was curled up asleep, his snoring audible through the entire camp. Guess they weren't too worried about the slaves escaping so close to Crossroads.

  She was almost back to Lodie's tent when a man stumbled out of the darkness, weaving side to side as he approached her.

  "Heya, what're ya doin' wit G'van's horse?" He stumbled to a stop in front of her, the stench of smokeweed and alcohol enough to make K'lrsa choke.

  She froze.