Resistance (Ilyon Chronicles Book 1)

by Jaye L. Knight

  Heaviness settled in Kyrin’s chest. More bullies. Just like the ones back at Tarvin Hall who always beat Kaden up. They seemed to show up everywhere. But somehow she didn’t think Jace escaped from the mental afflictions of his tormentors as easily as Kaden made it seem he disposed of theirs, and her curiosity was piqued.

  “Where did Jace come from? What’s his story?”

  “I only know a little from what Warin told me,” Mick replied. “You should probably talk to Rayad. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to see to anyway.”

  “Sure,” Kyrin said with a nod.

  Mick walked off and left her once again to her contemplations. She sent the Korvic brothers a frowning glance. The youngest spotted her and grinned. She looked away. No man who treated others so cruelly would ever gain her interest.

  Jace appeared again that night, but just briefly before he walked off with his supper. And once again, he was nowhere to be found the next morning, not that Kyrin could blame him after the reception he always received. It was uncomfortable to see him treated as she so often had been at Tarvin Hall. True, it was an odd thing to know someone whose bloodline was virtually unheard of, but surely Trask would have done something if he were a real threat.

  She stayed busy helping Lenae in the cabin, but her mind kept wandering back to the things Mick had told her, leaving her with questions about this intriguing man she felt such a strange connection to. When an opportunity presented itself, she set out to satisfy her curiosity. She found Rayad working on a cabin door with Warin, but now that she approached him, she was suddenly tongue-tied. If only Kaden were here to start the conversation. She might have turned around if Rayad hadn’t looked up with a smile.

  “Did you need something, Kyrin?”

  “I was wondering if I could talk to you…about Jace.”

  Rayad and Warin exchanged a look.

  “I can finish this,” Warin said.

  Rayad set his tools aside and turned to face Kyrin. “What is it you want to know?”

  “I guess I’m curious where he came from…how he got here.”

  Rayad seemed reluctant, protective, yet there was a look about him that spoke of much struggle. He looked around and motioned to a nearby log. “Why don’t we sit down?”

  Once they had, he looked at her, his brown eyes deep and serious. “Why are you curious about Jace?”

  Kyrin considered his question and asked herself the same. It wasn’t like her to pry into other people’s lives and approach someone she hardly knew. “I guess I feel bad for him. I notice how most of the men treat him.” She clasped her hands firmly in her lap and lowered her voice as her own memories and feelings welled to the surface. “It’s not easy being the outcast.”

  At hearing the pain of experience behind her words, Rayad’s eyes softened and, with a nod, he began to tell the story of Jace’s life, from his early childhood and teen years as a slave to his time as a gladiator. He recounted finding Jace, and the three years he’d spent helping him and teaching him about Elôm. By the time he finished telling of Kalli and Aldor’s recent deaths and the turmoil Jace experienced here, despair weighed his worn expression.

  “He’s slipping away, and if Elôm doesn’t intervene…” He gave a helpless shrug. “I’ve done everything I know to do. I had hoped hunting would help bring purpose back to his life, but it has just separated us further. He’ll hardly speak to me anymore. He’s lost the will to live. He just exists now. If only I could snap him out of it, but the more I try, the more he pulls away.”

  His voice had grown rough, and he shook his head. Kyrin had been struck by the pain in Jace’s eyes but never guessed just how much lay behind it. The turmoil inside him must be excruciating.

  The two of them sat quietly for a moment before Rayad took a rejuvenating breath. His eyes cleared as he turned to study Kyrin.

  “Altair,” he said, more to himself than to her.

  Kyrin tensed as her mind jumped immediately to the deeds of her grandfather. But she laughed inside. How much more shame had she brought to their name?

  “You’re not old enough to have known your grandfather, are you?” Rayad asked.

  Kyrin shook her head. “No, he was killed quite a few years before I was born.”

  She stared at her lap and smoothed her dress over her knees. After all these years, she should be used to this, but the shame still crept in.

  “Mm, yes, that was nearly thirty years ago now,” Rayad said as if well-acquainted with the incident. “What have you heard about him?”

  Kyrin raised her eyes but found no condemnation or disdain in Rayad’s expression. If anything, it offered understanding.

  “He abandoned his men in battle and then turned on them.” She winced at the unflattering image. Though now bearing the label of traitor as well, at least she had not hurt anyone in the process, despite the emperor’s claims. “Most of the soldiers were killed before someone took my grandfather down.”

  “I see,” Rayad murmured. “Who were the enemies they were fighting?”

  Kyrin stared at him, and her forehead wrinkled. How odd she had no answer for that. “I…guess no one ever told me.”

  Rayad gave a slow nod. “No, they wouldn’t have. Few truly know the answer. They were villagers from a small settlement called Ilmar—both men and a few women, untrained to fight, but determined to defend their families.”

  “Villagers? But…why?”

  “They were followers of Elôm, ordered to build a temple for Aertus and Vilai. When they refused, Daican sent men to either force them to comply or exterminate them. Your grandfather was the captain. But, when he arrived and witnessed the villagers’ determination, something changed in him and several of his men as well. He ordered his company back to the barracks, but the men still loyal to Daican chose to fight.

  “Your grandfather and a handful of his men stood with the villagers. Some escaped, but most were killed. Your grandfather was captured near the end. He was executed and branded a traitor throughout Arcacia.”

  Two warm tears slipped down Kyrin’s cheeks. Her grandfather was really a hero?

  “How do you know this?” she asked, her voice trembling.

  “I was there,” Rayad responded with a sad sigh. “Warin and I both. We’d come to sell horses, but ended up caught in the struggle. We helped some of the villagers get away, but stayed close enough to see how it ended.”

  Kyrin wiped her cheeks, but more tears flowed. For all her life, her grandfather had lived as a villain in her mind. How horribly wrong they’d all been.

  “You saw my grandfather die?”

  Rayad nodded solemnly. “I did, and let me tell you, it’s one of my greatest regrets that I couldn’t have stopped it.”

  Kyrin clenched her fists. How could the emperor do this to her family? To her father, who’d borne the brunt of the shame all these years? She tried to swallow the aching lump in her throat and the acidic burn of anger that came with the realization that he was doing the exact same thing to her. Would people speak her name in disgust thirty years from now, just like they did with her grandfather? Kaden and her father would know the truth, but would the rest of her family duck their heads in shame whenever anyone spoke of her?

  The anger churned inside her, but her ire slowly gave way to a burdening need for encouragement. Wiping her eyes again, she looked at Rayad. “Do you think he believed in Elôm?”

  “I can’t say for sure, but in my heart I believe he did. He faced death like a man who is confident of where he’s going.”

  Kyrin’s lips lifted in a wobbly smile. “Thank you. I can’t tell you what it means to me to hear that.”

  “I’m glad I could tell you. The way your grandfather has been reviled has bothered me for years. It gives me some peace to know at least one member of his family knows the truth and can see him for what he really was.” He rested his hand on Kyrin’s shoulder. “And it looks to me like his courage was passed on.”

  Jace trudged into camp just as the sun s
et with a red glow through the trees. Voices and laughter drifted from where everyone gathered around the fire for supper, as usual, but it wouldn’t last long. He steeled himself as he approached. Would he ever get used to the hush he caused? He set his eyes on the large pot of what smelled like stew.

  He had no game to tend to today. His mind just wasn’t on hunting. He’d dreamt about Kalli and Aldor the night before. Though not his usual nightmares, they were just as painful, reopening the ragged holes in his heart he didn’t believe anything could ever fill again. He never slept after that. With the nightmares still plaguing him, he only found a couple of hours of rest each night, if that, and it had begun to tell on his body. His reflexes and senses weren’t as sharp as they should be. He never missed such an easy target as the deer he’d failed to bring down this afternoon. But the worst part was that he didn’t even care.

  Near the fire, he glanced at the group and his eyes paused on Rayad. He sat next to the new girl in camp. They spoke, and Rayad smiled. Jace hadn’t seen him do that in a while. Something clenched like a cold vice around his heart. He could be sitting there, or at least sitting with Rayad somewhere. Rayad would be quick to join him if he just asked. But they’d grown so far apart now. It was his own fault. All of it.

  He looked away from Rayad, cursing the way his eyes stung. But, as he dropped a ladleful of stew into a bowl, his eyes were drawn to the new girl again. She was watching him. His empty stomach twisted with a desire to hide from eyes that seemed to cut right into him, past his shield of protection, seeing everything—every weakness, every vulnerability. Yet, while he felt himself laid bare before her, she gave away nothing about herself.

  He spun around and retreated to the solitude of the trees at the edge of camp.

  When he sat, he cast a glance back to the fire as he considered the way she had watched him the last couple of nights. He’d heard something about her having the ability to read people. Just what did she see in him? Did she see the monster he was?

  Days had passed since he let his thoughts turn to Elôm. He leaned his head back against the tree, his heart aching to cry, to release the pain. Why? Why did this happen to him? He waited for Elôm to speak, but the answer that filtered into his mind was nothing like what Rayad would have told him and not at all comforting.

  Because you’re an animal. Everything you touch is killed or destroyed.

  Jace closed his eyes. He’d reached this devastating conclusion recently and believed it more and more every day. Nearly everything he’d ever cared about was gone, and it terrified him that this curse would manifest itself again by destroying Rayad, the only person he had left. For this reason alone, he still thought daily of leaving—of getting as far away as he could from anyone or anything he cared about so they could never be harmed because of him.

  He wrestled with this until Tyra’s whining penetrated the shadows of his thoughts. His eyes popped open. She stared at him with her head slightly cocked. He glanced at the bowl of stew that had gone cold and set it on the ground.

  “You eat it. I’m not hungry.”

  Tyra looked down at the bowl, but then just stared at him again.

  Kyrin hadn’t known such a peaceful existence in years. Forest life was every bit as wonderful as she’d imagined, and she loved Lenae and being amongst people who believed as she did. But then there came times she missed Kaden so much her heart broke. She prayed daily he would show up in camp with Tane, or she would at least receive word of his safety, but she lived in fear of learning something had happened to him.

  Though falling into a routine, she still felt a little out of place and uncertain without her brother. She’d relied on his strength and presence so heavily over the years. Too heavily, perhaps. Needing time alone to gather her own strength, she wandered into the woods not too far from camp, where she sat on a fallen log surrounded by trilliums and violets. The delicate blooms swayed and quivered around her feet as silent witnesses to the gathering of tears in her eyes.

  “I miss Kaden,” she whispered into the quiet of the forest. “I worry about him, though I know You have his life guarded, just as You do mine. Help me trust that, and please bring him here safely. I want to enjoy it with him. He would love it so much.” She bit her lip and closed her eyes. “I just want him to be safe.”

  Tears leaked past her lids and dribbled down her cheeks as her thoughts went to her last night in Valcré. The ache of riding away from the city without him still cut deeply. She hadn’t even been able to say goodbye.

  Something rustled in the grass, and Kyrin’s eyes popped open. “Oh!”

  Jace’s black wolf stood staring up at her.

  “Hello, girl,” she said softly.

  The wolf’s tail wagged, and the animal took a step closer. Kyrin extended her hand, admiring the animal’s beautiful eyes and shiny black coat. Tyra sniffed her and let her rub the soft fur under her chin.

  As with Tyra, Kyrin didn’t hear him come, but when she looked up, Jace stood a couple of feet away. He looked at her oddly as his eyes shifted between her and Tyra. Kyrin pulled her hand away from the wolf and smudged the tear tracks from her face. Clearing her clogged throat, she said, “She’s very beautiful.”

  She offered a tentative smile, not sure how he would react to her touching his wolf. He just stared and barely murmured what sounded like “thanks” before walking off. Tyra trotted after him.

  Kyrin twisted around to watch them. This was the closest she had seen Jace, and in full daylight. Despite all she had learned from Rayad, it had not prepared her for the sight of the dark shadows under his eyes and sunken cheeks. Though built like Kaden, he clearly wasn’t eating the way her brother did. No wonder Rayad worried.

  Wiping away the last remnants of tears, Kyrin returned to her prayers, but with a newfound focus as a burden settled on her heart. Jace needed help, and like Rayad, she prayed for divine intervention.

  A couple of days later, Kyrin raced from the cabin the moment she learned Trask had ridden into camp with Tane. Wondering what news the talcrin would bring left her breathless, but the smile he met her with didn’t speak of bad news.

  “Kyrin, you’re looking very well,” he said.

  “I am well,” she told him as she worked to catch her breath. “How’s Kaden?”

  “He’s all right for now,” Tane assured her. “I’m afraid he’s still watched closely, but we’ll get him out as soon as we have the opportunity.”

  Kyrin nodded with a mix of relief and disappointment. At least he was safe, but he must be going out of his mind waiting to leave. He never was the most patient. “I know you will.”

  “How are things in Valcré?” Rayad asked as he came up behind Kyrin.

  By now, most of the men had left their work to gather around.

  “Not good,” Tane answered, shaking his head. “As we feared, there have been many arrests due to citizens refusing to worship Aertus and Vilai. And it’s not just in Valcré, but the surrounding area as well. Soon it will spread throughout the country. Friends and neighbors will be turning each other in all over the place.”

  “Have there been any executions?” Warin wanted to know.

  “Not yet, but I’m sure there will be soon.” Tane paused with a grave expression. “There’s been talk concerning the arena in Valcré. Another year or two and it’ll be complete. I don’t think it’s wrong to assume that’s not a coincidence.”

  Rayad crossed his arms. “You think the emperor will make a sport out of killing us.”

  Tane shrugged, but said, “It’s exactly what I’d expect of him.”

  Murmurs and silent looks passed through the group, and Kyrin shivered. It had been terrifying to face the crowd from the execution platform. How much more so would it be to stand in a giant arena and die providing entertainment to a crowd?

  “We need to increase work on the cabins,” Trask announced, drawing Kyrin’s attention back to the group. “Tane and the others will try to warn the families who are in danger and direct them
here. I don’t know how many will make it or when, but we must be ready. This is why we’re here.”

  With renewed purpose, the men returned to their work. Kyrin lingered to speak further with Tane, but Trask motioned her over to his horse.

  “I brought something for you.” He pulled a bundle from his saddle to reveal a small recurve bow. He placed it in her hands along with a quiver of gray and blue fletched arrows. “It should meet your specifications.”

  Kyrin smiled widely as she slipped the quiver over her shoulder and ran her hand along the smooth, dark wood of the bow. She’d asked him for one, but never anticipated it would be of such quality. “Thank you so much. It’s perfect.”

  “You’re very welcome.” He grinned with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Now, impress me.”

  Kyrin’s brows went up, first in question and then uncertainty. She’d never shown off for anyone in her life, but she followed him to the edge of camp, where he stuck a square of cloth to a tree thirty yards away. She eyed the small target. Though she hadn’t used a bow in some time, she’d had plenty of practice over the years.

  She strung the bow and pulled out an arrow to fit to the bowstring. Sensing movement behind her, she glanced over her shoulder. A few of the men had gathered to watch, including Jeremy and the youngest Korvic. Her stomach fluttered nervously, but she settled it by taking a deep breath. With her eyes fixed on the target, she raised the bow and drew it back smoothly. She paused a moment to aim and let the string slip. The arrow sliced the air and slammed into the tree about two inches above the target. Trask nodded approvingly. Not a bad shot, but Kyrin frowned.

  She drew another arrow, aimed, and fired again. This one lodged itself about an inch from the target. Still, she knew she could do better. She reached for her third arrow and released more quickly this time. It streaked across the distance to the tree. A thrill raced through her when the arrow hit close to the center of the cloth. She fired off two more, and both hit within a centimeter of the third.