Resistance (Ilyon Chronicles Book 1) (41 page)

Glancing up from the looking glass, she asked, “Where are you taking me?”

“Marlton first, but from there you’ll likely go on to Landale.”

Kyrin pictured a map of Arcacia. Landale wasn’t far from Valcré. Only about two days’ ride.
Not as far as she’d expected to have to go to escape the emperor. “What’s in Landale?”

“Baron Grey’s son has set up a secret camp in the forest for people exactly like you who will be fleeing the emperor. As far as I know, you’ll be the first one to come under these circumstances.” Tane sighed, his eyes a solemn, shadowed gray. “But, after this, there will be more.”

“What do you mean?”

“What happened, or what was going to happen to you, is something we’ve feared for years.”

Kyrin set aside the looking glass to listen more closely.

“Had you been killed, it would’ve been the first public execution for believing in Elôm in the history of Ilyon. It was the first step in plans Daican’s been preparing since before you were born. Yesterday was only the beginning. Arcacia is about to change dramatically.”

These last words drew goose bumps from Kyrin’s skin. What terrible scheme had she somehow found herself caught up in?

“What will change? What are his plans?”

“For years he’s increased his power, preparing, but it didn’t just start with him. It started with his father. That’s why Tarvin Hall was established. It’s all for control. And now that Daican has publically declared the worship of Elôm to be a crime punishable by death, and the people have accepted it, there will be many others just like you.”

Bits of memories collected in Kyrin’s mind—Daniel’s words, and even things the emperor himself had said—fitting together to form a clear picture. “He’s building the legacy his father was working toward.”

Tane nodded slowly. “Neither one of them ever looked kindly on the followers of Elôm.”

Kyrin rubbed her eyes with her fingertips. If only she could sleep and forget the emperor for at least a brief couple of hours. How had she not seen this happening? This quest for control and power brewing around her. But how could she? She’d grown up at Tarvin Hall surrounded by the emperor’s lies.
Lies
.

Her gaze lifted back to Tane. “I never attacked the emperor. He lied.”

“Ah, I was going to ask you about that. We suspected it was a lie. No doubt it was to paint a picture of the followers of Elôm as dangerous and violent enemies. It was all in how he wanted the people to perceive you. The whole day from the moment of your arrest until you were brought to the square, he had men spreading the lies, firing up the city, and turning everyone against you. That’s why he presented you to them the way he did. He wanted them to see you as more than just a common criminal, and leave an image in their minds that would prevent them from questioning what’s coming.”

No wonder they had so passionately screamed for her death. Kyrin gulped. They would want it just as much now as yesterday. “Daican will do everything he can to find me.”

“Don’t worry,” Tane reassured her. “I’ll make sure you get to Landale. You’ll be safe there.”

“Thank you.”

Tane smiled, reminding her comfortingly of Sam.

Letting talk of the emperor rest for now, Kyrin finished cleaning her face, and Tane applied a salve to the cut. He rummaged through the supply packs again, and after stringing a bit of rope and a blanket between two trees, he handed Kyrin a bundle of clothing.

“You can finish cleaning up and change if you’d like.”

Eager, Kyrin took the clothing and cleaning supplies behind the hanging blanket. Careful of her arm, she changed out of her filth-covered shift and cast it aside. Only now did she notice how badly it reeked of garbage and mildew. Once she’d cleaned up, she slipped into the fresh clothing—a pair of sturdy linen pants, a soft blue shirt, and a dark gray overdress better suited for riding. She ran her hand down the front. What a strange thing not to see herself in black and gold. They were colors she’d worn every single day for ten years, but she never wanted to see her wretched uniforms again. If she’d still had her gold dress, she would have burned it. She checked her feet for cuts, but found only bruises, and pulled on her boots again.

Brushing her fingers through her tangled hair, she stepped out from behind the blanket. Tane had gathered up the horses and changed as well. In contrast to the dark brown clothing he’d worn before, he now donned a distinct black and gold uniform.

“You’re a courier?”

The talcrin shook his head with a smile. “Yes and no. It’s more a cover than an actual job. I do take some messages to and from Valcré to keep up appearances, but my main objective is delivering news from Valcré to Landale and other groups of believers. I keep them informed of the progress of the emperor’s plans.”

“And you get that information from Sir Aric,” Kyrin guessed.
Being head of Daican’s security, he must hear a lot.

“Him and Mister Foss, mostly.”

Kyrin’s  mouth fell open. “Mister Foss? Daican’s secretary?”

“Yes,” Tane said slowly. “Why?”

Kyrin shook her head in surprise. All those times she’d worked miserably with him, they’d been on the same side. Out of everyone in the palace, he’d certainly fooled her the most. “I never would’ve guessed Mister Foss. He was always so…bad-tempered. Everyone hated him.”

Tane chuckled. “It’s a perfect cover.”

“So he’s a believer in Elôm?”

“Actually, no, but he holds no love for the emperor either. I believe it has something to do with his wife’s death, but whatever reason, he’s been one of our main suppliers of information, being privy to nearly all the emperor’s most sensitive documents.”

Kyrin stood for a long moment to let this sink in. She’d had more allies at Auréa than she ever imagined.

“I hate to ask this of you,” Tane said, breaking into her thoughts, “but can you keep riding?
It’s important that we keep our lead on Daican’s men.”

Kyrin gave a firm nod. All she truly wanted was to drop down with a blanket and sleep, but eating had provided the strength to move on. Once Tane had the horses re-saddled, he tied her arm up in a sling and wrapped a bandage around it and her middle to keep her arm in place while they rode. He helped her up into the saddle, and they took to the road again with a prayer to stay well ahead of any pursuers.

K
yrin let out a wide yawn and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. A full day of riding left her stiff and sore, but the night’s sleep had done wonders in restoring her energy. Stretching, she sat up and carefully maneuvered her injured arm. Still tender. She slipped her sling over her head and crawled out of the little tent Tane had set up for her. The talcrin knelt at the fire, cooking a pot of bubbling porridge.

His flashing white smile greeted her. “Good morning.”

She echoed him and smiled in return. If she’d learned one thing about him in the last day together, it was that he always found something to take joy in, no matter what the situation was. Such an attitude was contagious.

“How’s your head?” he asked.

Kyrin shrugged her good shoulder and joined him at the fire. “The cut stings, but the headache’s gone.” It would certainly make riding easier not to have her head pounding along with the horses’ hooves. Maybe the nausea wouldn’t return either.

Tane dished up a bowl of porridge for her. Balancing the bowl on her knees, she took a bite before saying, “I don’t know your full name.”

He looked at her appreciatively. “Most people don’t even realize we have longer names. It’s Imhonriltane. It means ‘little warrior.’” He shrugged and chuckled deeply. “I was born unusually small for a talcrin. But I’ve grown some.”

Kyrin laughed with him. Tane was every bit as tall and powerful as Sam.

“So, what does Endathlorsam mean? I never thought to ask him.”

“Oak tree,” Tane replied. “Well-suited, I’d say.”

Kyrin agreed. “Very well.”

They talked a little of Tane’s family—his parents and Sam being the only ones who lived outside of Arda—but hurried through breakfast in order to be on their way. Kyrin had just finished her last bite when Tane’s attention jumped to the road. Kyrin stiffened, and her skin turned icy. She prayed it would be nothing, but Tane exclaimed, “Someone’s coming! Grab your things and hide, quick.”

Kyrin scrambled to her feet, bowl still in hand, as a terror threaded through her that she hadn’t felt since the walk to the square. Tane reached for the extra saddle and glanced back at her, his voice calm despite the urgency in his eyes.

“Remember, if anything happens, follow the road straight east. It will take you right to Marlton.”

Her heart surely matched the pace of a fleeing rabbit as she dashed into the tent and grabbed anything that would give them away. Ducking out the back, she pushed into the thick brush lining the road. Branches snapped to her left as Tane concealed her saddle and the extra supplies. By now, fast-approaching hoof beats rumbled just up the road. Kyrin dropped to the ground and lay still. She clutched her pack, and her breath trembled in and out. Through the brush, she had a small view of camp. Tane had returned to sit by the fire.

A few seconds later, five horses galloped into camp, scattering dirt as they skidded to a halt. Kyrin only had a view of their legs, but their panting and snorting rattled toward the bushes. A couple of the riders dismounted, boots stomping to the ground, and Tane rose.

“Can I help you?”

“We’re searching for an escaped prisoner,” a deep, rough voice said. “She’s a dangerous fugitive and a traitor to Arcacia.”

“She?” Tane feigned surprise.

“Yes, a young woman, seventeen years old. She’s the granddaughter of Jonavan Altair.” He ground out the name like a curse. “She’ll be easy to recognize. Her hair has been cut, and she has a wound on her forehead.”

The man turned, apparently surveying their camp. “Are you the only one here?”

“Looks that way.”

Though Kyrin could not see their faces, the other man’s voice lowered in suspicion. “There are two horses.”

“Never know when one might turn up lame while delivering an important message. I like to be prepared.”

After a brief pause, the other man turned again. “Search the camp.”

His men obeyed, and Kyrin sucked in her breath.
What if she’d left something behind? Her heart thumped like a fist into the ground, and her lips moved in a silent prayer.

The leader turned back to Tane. “Let me see your papers.”

Tane produced the official documents confirming his status as a courier in the emperor’s service. The man examined them thoroughly. Meanwhile, one of the other men looked in the tent. After a long moment, the soldier seemed satisfied, though he now faced the bushes. Kyrin held her breath, but resisted the urge to shrink back. Any movement could give her away. When the leader spoke again, the soldier turned, and Kyrin let her eyes slide closed as she breathed out slowly.

“What areas do you cover?” the leader asked Tane.

“Around Landale mostly.”

“I want you to bring word of the Altair girl’s escape to all the villages in the vicinity. Anyone who can bring her in to Valcré either alive or dead will receive one thousand gold pieces, and anyone with useful information will receive five hundred.”

Tane gave a low whistle. “That’s quite an incentive.”

“As I said, she is a dangerous fugitive. Make sure all are aware of this, and the reward.”

Tane must have nodded because he said nothing. Satisfied, the men returned to their horses. In another minute, they galloped on down the road. Kyrin didn’t move until several minutes later when Tane called her out. Crawling from the bushes, she stood with shaky legs.

“That was close.”

“Too close,” Tane murmured. “It’s probably best we take to the forest from here. It will slow us down, but we don’t want to run into them again.”