9
Garnet eyes blinked at me from above, the pupils dark and nearly smothering the red that ringed them. Rage contorted his features until the only sensation skittering across my skin was pure malice.
“Please, don’t,”
I whimpered, flinching away in a desperate attempt to dodge the hand flying toward my face. But I wasn’t fast enough. The collision pitched me to the side, and then I was falling, falling, falling, hair whipping in my eyes as I tried to see what I raced toward.
Darkness surrounded me until I didn’t know which way I had come from, only that I was suspended in an endless void, body out of my control. With a sudden thud, my back cracked against something hard, air whooshing from my lungs, and Vagach was there again, standing over me with his arms crossed over his bulging belly. Spittle flew from his mouth as he cursed me, using the tip of his boot to turn me onto my stomach.
I attempted to crawl away, slithering along the cold, blank ground like a lizard, but he grabbed my ankles and yanked me backward. His weight settled on top of me, and he wrapped my hair around his fist and yanked my head up.
“You’ll never be free of me,”
he snapped in my ear.
My eyes flew open, and I sucked in a sharp breath. Sweat soaked my hair, and I glanced around, trying to figure out where I was. The tent, placed in a field surrounded by males that weren’t my abusive husband. Who was dead, I reminded myself. Digging my fingers into the blanket covering my naked body, I tried to ground myself even more, waiting for the lingering tension to bleed from my muscles. I was sore from training, sore from riding, yet that didn’t compare to the pain of clenching from fear.
The first stirrings of camp reached my ears, and I groaned internally. I wasn’t ready to face another day with exhaustion gnawing at every fiber of my being. It didn’t help that beyond the physical, I was drained mentally and emotionally too.
Every day at the peak of the sun, I led the group in the ritualistic offering of blood to the Fates before we knelt on the ground and prayed for glory. Every day, those from Vagach’s region worshiped with me, growing more and more fervent in their belief that Kral Xannirin and the Halálhívó were the Fates’ vessels in Ravasz, egged on by Jaku and the Vezet?’s veneration of the two. The vehemence of belief from the priestesses was nothing like the unwavering devotion displayed by the seasoned soldiers. Often, I found myself swept up in it all. In my attempt to remain hidden so I wouldn’t be killed immediately, I forgot I was female. My identity was lost among my impersonation of Vagach, which frayed my nerves more and more with each passing day, especially as every action left a bitter taste in my mouth.
This wasn’t who I was or who I wanted to be; there wasn’t as much freedom in my escape as I had hoped.
Turning over onto my stomach, I allowed myself a few more moments in my body, trailing a slender finger in the blades of grass that stuck through the cuts in tarp I laid as the base for my tent. At least the previous night, Izgath had brought me food again, otherwise my stomach would drive me from my comfortable position in search of sustenance.
The male was constantly on my mind. We spent our days riding beside each other, leading the recruits along with Jaku, Dromak, and Uzadaan. He’d almost caught me losing the grip over my magic several times, and lately, I’d begun to fear he knew exactly what I was hiding and his convenient placement outside my tent in the evenings was intentional.
I couldn’t quite figure him out, and that scared me.
Shaking off any remaining tension, I threw the blanket back and revealed my naked body to the humid morning air. It wouldn’t be long until that humidity would give way to the dryness of the mountains that surrounded Uzhhorod. Already, the grasses were changing, from the long, wavy fronds of the plains to a shorter, rougher variety.
We were closing in on what looked like a spot in the Vago River that was crossable, and I prayed to the Fates that I’d find one and my identity remain undiscovered by Jaku and the others. After that, we’d only have two weeks left in our trek to the capital, where I’d finally have a chance to slip away.
I couldn’t wait.
Tapping into the well of shadows in my chest, I pulled Vagach’s form around me, again counting the time it took to complete.
Fifteen seconds.
Better, but not quite good enough should something happen and I need to appear as Vagach immediately. Once I’d donned my clothes, I packed everything away and shoved it through the flap. A few others had risen early and were in various stages of breaking down their temporary homes and loading the supply wagons. I paused for a moment and surveyed the group.
The males from Stryi were already toning up from the miles of walking carrying heavy packs as well as the training regimen the Vezet? had them doing in the evenings. Everyone in the camp pulled their weight, from the older males cooking around the fires to the younger ones who worked in tandem to heft and arrange bags of clothes and supplies.
Jaku emerged from his tent, looking fresh and rested, and then shouted at the gathered males. “We move in twenty! Look sharp and get this camp packed up.”
Each day, he gave us less and less time to comply, though we never met his impossible deadlines. I understood his intention; much like the timing of my magic, it was meant to test how quickly we could mobilize if we were under attack. The small ways in which Jaku and the Vezet? prepared us every day were not lost on me, and I got the sense that they deeply cared for our squad and wanted to ensure we wouldn’t die needlessly. The sentiment was growing within me the more time I spent with those under my command and with Izgath, Dromak, and Uzadaan, who worked with me separately to increase my all around competency.
“Morning, Vagach,”
Izgath said from my left, and I nearly jumped out of my skin as he broke my examination.
“Morning,”
I tried to grumble, but it came out more like a squeak.
Really, Assyria?
Izgath ran a hand over his freshly cut hair, his bicep flexing and drawing my attention. Digging my nails into my palm, I forced myself to focus instead on his garnet eyes. He was only an inch or two taller than me in this form, though his body was quite different from Vagach’s. It was impossible to deny that he was a warrior with the way he moved and the way his leathers moved with him.
“Think we’ll cross the river today?”
he asked, studying me in that intense way of his.
“Aye,”
I said, though I didn’t believe it. The Fates would have to truly be kind to me to make that crossing happen.
He clapped me on the shoulder and then gave it a shake. “I have no doubt you’ll manage it. You’re a natural leader. You see those males?”
He pivoted us so we stared at the group that used to belong to his brother all working together to break down tents and saddle horses. “They respect you because you put in effort to get to know them. They trust you to guide them, both spiritually and while we travel. They see how hard you are working to improve your strength and agility, and they know you have their best interests at heart. They were extremely loyal to Zurronar, and to see them turn that to you has been extraordinary. I thought you were a stuck up prick, but you’ve shown a different side the longer we’ve been on the road. Maybe you’re more suited to military life than being a Kormánzó.”
My stomach plummeted as Izgath pointed out all the ways I’d been failing to be Vagach. While his words were intended to be a compliment, they did not land that way for me. Still, I had to at least pretend they did around the panic clawing up my throat.
“That means a lot coming from you, Izgath,”
I murmured, failing to sound anything like Vagach.
“Well, everyone needs to feel seen for what they do,”
he shrugged, his hand slipping off my shoulder and leaving a spot of chill in its wake.
“For what it’s worth, I see you too, Izgath.”
I faced him. “You have gone out of your way to ensure I have dinner every night when I am exhausted. It’s not gone unnoticed.”
Damn it, Assyria, slap that Vagach mask back on!
Yet I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was treading dangerous territory, especially with the way he regarded me. The slight narrowing of his garnet eyes, the twitch of his full lips, the way his fingers flexed over something invisible, all of it sent tingles spreading across my body. He cocked his head ever so slightly, and I forced myself to tear away from our intense staredown and take three steps back.
“We need to get going before Jaku decides to leave us behind,”
I said, unable to look at Izgath again.
“Aye.”
The word was threaded with an undercurrent of suspicion. He lingered for a moment before striding away from me and toward the center of camp where a cook was calling out for any last minute meals.
Heart pounding, I packed my belongings and threw my tent into the wagon with the others, keeping my head down and mind fully focused on the task at hand. I barely greeted my charges as I mounted Blaeze, and it wasn’t until Jaku’s chestnut horse pranced up that the voice in my head telling me to get away as fast as I could silenced.
“You’ll ride at the front today with Uzadaan and me. We need our sharpest eyes looking out for that spot you said we could cross.”
I didn’t bother correcting the Százados. I’d never promised anything, but he wouldn’t care about semantics. “Yes, sir,”
I said instead, offering him a closed-fist salute. “I prayed to the Weaver before I rose this morning to ask for calm and low waters for our crossing.”
That was also a lie, but he didn’t need to know that.
“If we haven’t found the spot by midday, we shall pray as a group then,”
he commented. Uzadaan approached, rubbing his eyes and yawning wide enough that I thought his jaw would pop. His dark bay mount dragged his feet as if he too wanted to sleep a little longer. I couldn’t blame either of them. We rode hard every day, exercised hard every evening, then barely managed a few hours of sleep at night before Jaku roused us to get moving again. My magic was barely replenishing enough as it was, and I was certain I’d be closing in on a constant state of burnout if I had any eye color other than burgundy.
“Morning, Uzadaan,”
I greeted him.
He blinked once, twice, then grunted, “Morning.”
Százados Jaku snorted his amusement. “Wake up, Uzadaan, because you’ll need to help Vagach spot the river crossing.”
“First we must approach the river,”
he pointed out. In our current location, the river was visible in the distance, but we’d chosen to camp in an open field again. We’d need to travel alongside it today rather than on the road that bulged around it if we wanted to find the spot to cross—I hoped.
“Uzadaan is correct,”
I chuckled, trying to convince myself as much as them that we’d uncover this miracle spot. “We’ll have more luck closer to the river. Let’s march on so we can cross the Vago sooner.”
Jaku brought his fingers to his mouth, stuck two in, and then released a sharp whistle. “Listen up! We ride along the river today. If the wagons get stuck, shout for assistance in moving them. Our Kormánzó will show us the way.”
Fuck, I really wish he’d stop saying that.
Cheers rippled throughout the group, and I politely dipped my head to the soldiers despite the ice slithering down my spine. Jaku spurred his stallion forward, and he sprang into action, trotting a straight line toward the Vago River. Uzadaan and I followed moments later, and I let Blaeze’s gait sway my hips as we settled into a comfortable rhythm.
To soothe the anxiety squeezing my ribs, I turned my attention to Uzadaan. “How is your mate?”
Dromak had casually mentioned that Uzadaan had one weeks ago, though I didn’t know much else about him, like where he hailed from in the Demon Realm or how long he’d been in the army.
“She is tired, having to take care of our son all by herself. She moved to the coast with her family in an attempt to escape the oncoming Angels.”
The way his shoulders sagged said more than his words did.
“Are the Angels that close?”
I questioned, heart giving a powerful thud against my ribs. If they were that close to Uzadaan’s family, I understood why he was terrified. If the Angels caught them, none would be left alive.
“Aye, she said she could see fires in the distance, up on the plateau. The Angels burn everything in their wake,”
Uzadaan sighed. “At least with our mental connection, we can still speak to one another and I know she is safe. I couldn’t bear the silence like the others have to.”
Mates could speak mind-to-mind, no matter the distance, and I assumed, much like Uzadaan, that the males among us wished for the same level of contact with the loved ones they left behind.
Remembering who I was supposed to be, I hastily added, “I think about my wife every day and take comfort in her safety in the south. The Angels have a long way to go to reach it.”
“You are the lucky ones, for it will be because of their sacrifice that you never have to worry about your family.”
Uzadaan glanced over his shoulder at the squads following us.
All the more reason for me to figure out how the fuck to cross this river, so we could reunite with the rest of the army. Hooves pounded behind us, along with the footsteps of a thousand males, and I lost myself to the repetitive sound of the march, hoping that a path across the water would reveal itself to me.
As the sun crept to its zenith, I still had not found a spot that looked low enough to cross. Between the plants that clung to the riverbank and the large boulders that broke up the rush of the water, it was difficult to gauge how deep the river truly was from one side to the other. My fingers twisted over the leather reins, growing sweatier with each passing hour. Eventually, I dug my heels into Blaeze’s side, riding ahead of Jaku and Uzadaan. I couldn’t take another judgmental look from Jaku, not when I’d revealed too much with Izgath earlier that day. Thankfully, his eyes hadn’t bored into my backside, increasing my already anxious state.
“We should stop to pray soon,”
Jaku called out from behind me. I tore my attention from the deep blue hue of the water to glance again at the sun. Sure enough, it waited there, stealing all the shadows with its climb.
“Aye,”
I shouted back, pulling back and slowing Blaeze. “This spot looks safe enough for the horses to drink at least.”
Through a break in the brush, soft earth waited alongside the shore, and the water moved just slow enough that the horses could drink their fill without getting swept away.
Jaku whistled again, shouting instructions to slow behind him. The message was repeated until the end of the procession, likely Izgath and Dromak since I was at the front today. Bringing a group this large to a halt was like stopping a boulder rolling down a gentle slope—it took effort and was not immediate.
The ground was soft beneath my feet as I landed on it, and I approached the embankment, leading Blaeze to drink. The stallion walked forward without much encouragement and dipped his muzzle to the cool water. While he was occupied, I rummaged through my bags and pulled out the ceremonial knife. One by one, other soldiers brought their mounts to the water, rotating in and out quickly to allow everyone space.
Hitching Blaeze to a tree, I strode toward the open field and waited for the males to gather for our daily worship. I twisted the knife through my fingers as I waited, mind whirling over every possible outcome of failing at finding a crossing. My true identity was sure to be revealed if I failed to do so; it was inevitable at this point. They’d discover I was impersonating Vagach, and then I’d be killed for my crime. I still had so much life ahead of me; I wasn’t ready to die yet. I’d never had the chance to be free.
The realization slammed into my gut like one of Vagach’s severe blows.
Please, Weaver, give me a sign.
For years, I’d struggled with my faith. Especially after my husband’s abuse and watching my family die such horrific deaths over the winter. Why would the Fates cause so much suffering if they wanted the Demons to conquer Keleti? If they wanted the Kral and the Halálhívó to wage a holy war in their name and win? The Reaper especially wasn’t a benevolent figure in our religion, and when her eye fell upon someone, their lives irrevocably changed for the worse. But why? What was the point of it all?
These questions had plagued me every time I was forced to my knees at the temple. I hid them well behind my veil, brows pinched in confusion while it appeared to others the line between them was borne of focus on my devotion.
The Fates were woven so deeply in our lives, it was impossible to escape them. For there was no doubt of their existence; they’d shown themselves often in signs and symbols to the faithful. The Goddess, too, though she appeared only to the Angels.
All I ever wanted to know was why. The lack of answer only served to stoke this soul-deep rage at the injustice of our world.
So out of habit or out of desperation to save myself, I continued to pray for a signal that this time, one of them was watching, waiting to help me.
As the males arranged themselves in neat lines, much like the ones we practiced in the evenings, I stopped twirling the blade and straightened. Jaku and the other Vezet? joined me in facing the squad, each kneeling in turn as they arrived. Finally, when all were settled, I spoke.
Tipping my head toward the sun, I exhaled long and slow, recalling the words to the army-specific prayer Jaku had given me on our first day together. Then, I lifted the knife. “Weaver, who spins the threads of our fates, lay down the path for us to tread, unyielding and unbroken. We walk at your command, our feet bound by the threads you have woven. Guide us to glory as we march beneath the banner of war. For the Kral, for the Halálhívó, we bleed. Bind our fates to theirs, that we may rise victorious.”
I dragged the blade across my palm as the soldiers volleyed back, “We bleed for the Kral, for the Halálhívó.”
We allowed our life to feed the earth one splatter at a time. “Giver, bless us with abundant wells of magic so we wield in your name during battle. Let the blood we spill slake your thirst, and let us slaughter those who defy your design. Gift us with the power we need to bring majesty to your name. By our blood, we honor you.”
“By our blood, we honor you,”
they echoed, prostrating themselves.
I sank to my knees, then spoke the veneration to the final Fate. “Reaper, whose curse falls upon those who stray from the path, let us not taste your wrath. We offer this blood as a pledge of our loyalty. Let your eye wander elsewhere and damn those who question your mighty power. Should we sin, may your curse be swift and unrelenting.”
Flattening my palms and forehead against the ground, I sucked in a deep breath and added my own silent prayer.
Help me find a place to cross the fucking river so I don’t die.
Straightening, I yelled a phrase that had become all too familiar. “Let the Halálhívó’s victory be swift and the Kral’s reign eternal. Our lives, our magic, our essence, are theirs to command.”
“Glory to the Demons. We are theirs to command.”
The males’ voices resounded hauntingly in the field. They rose, similarly dusting themselves off before returning to the supply wagons in search of food. Numbly, I followed behind Jaku, Dromak, Uzadaan, and Izgath, only returning to consciousness when Izgath handed me a brown roll. We were running low on bread, so I accepted it readily, knowing that it might be my last until we reached a larger town past the Vago River and back on the main road that led to Uzhhorod.
“Thanks.”
I chewed slowly, savoring the fluffy interior.
“You okay?”
Izgath asked, smooth voice softening.
The bread turned to ash in my mouth. “Just fine,”
I mumbled, ducking my head.
What is it with this male? Why does he unnerve me so? Why can’t I keep my act together around him?
A male from my unit approached with an issue that needed solving, saving me from further questioning. I quickly dispatched orders, not hesitating in the slightest to delegate.
As he walked away, a realization settled over me. To my surprise, I had become a good leader, trusted by these males; not only that, but I enjoyed it.
Females weren’t granted much in this life, and the fact that I had the opportunity to travel to another part of the Demon Realm, let alone be trusted to lead a set of people, was astounding. The thought humbled me, and a spark of hope settled along with the sense of dread in the pit of my stomach.
The Weaver had put me on this path for a reason, and I should trust that she would ensure my success in this endeavor.
I will find a way.
The Fates believed in me; all I needed was to believe in myself. Resolve strengthened, I popped the remainder of the roll in my mouth and retrieved Blaeze, determined to find the crossing.
The chatter behind me fell away as all my focus went to the flow of the river, its little twists and turns, the vines and branches hanging over its expanse, and the reeds that clung to its edges. A crow squawked overhead, shattering my focus and forcing a sharp inhale. My head shot up just in time to see three burst from the leaves and dip toward the ground before leveling out and flying straight ahead of me.
Curious, I dug my heels into Blaeze’s sides and sent him cantering after them. The three did not deviate from their path, wings flapping ever so slightly to keep them aloft in the blue sky above. Then, in perfect synchrony, they dipped to the left, back toward the river.
That was when I saw it.
A thick break in the trees and reeds greeted me as I turned Blaeze, and my mouth almost popped open as I beheld the pile of pebbles barely covered by the rushing water. The clear flow was still fast-moving, but over something so shallow, we had ample opportunity to cross it.
Thank you, Fates.
“I found it!”
I shouted, too excitedly for a male. The squad was still far behind, I realized once I looked away from the river. They must have heard me, though, because a whooping cheer rose from the group, followed by a few sharp whistles.
When I returned my attention to the trees, the three crows were nowhere to be found.
“I wondered why you rode off in such a hurry,”
Dromak chuckled as he rode up. “I thought you might have found some pussy.”
I smothered the urge to wince at his brashness. “Just the place that will get us to the pussy faster,”
I said instead, bitterness coating my tongue with the words.
Dromak threw back his head and laughed, while Jaku, whose horse pranced beneath him, rolled his eyes. “Keep moving, we have no time to waste.”
I wondered who was more anxious to move, Jaku or his horse. Perhaps their restlessness fueled one another, which was why all both could think about was taking another step forward.
“Aye, let a few of the wagons catch up first. We can cross on one side of them to help break up the water flow,”
Dromak drawled, drawing a sharp look from Jaku.
“What? I come from Fured. It’s the only place north of Uzhhorod where rivers carve up the land. I know a thing or two about crossing them,”
Dromak shot back, waggling his brows.
“He’s right. It would help the wagons cross. One tipping over would cause a bigger delay,”
I pointed out, shifting in my saddle.
“Thank you, finally someone sees my logic.”
Dromak threw his hands in the air and I had to smother a laugh. Most of the time, his ‘logic’ was as illogical as it came, though I didn’t have the gall to point that out like Izgath normally did.
My attention drifted to the line of soldiers, all the way to the back where the Incubus and Uzadaan rode.
“Fair enough,”
Jaku grumbled. “I will test the waters myself. I am, after all, your Százados and it is my duty to ensure the squad’s safety. Remain here and direct people across.”
“Yes, sir,”
Dromak and I said in unison.
Turning, Jaku urged his mount to enter the water. The river swept midway between his horse’s hooves and knees, though the beast plunged forward, splashing all the way to the other side without incident. I counted the seconds, since this section was by no means narrow. Should a surge happen, we needed to know how long it would take to push across.
Thirty seconds was a little too long for my comfort, but this wasn’t the mighty Graz River where the opposite bank was invisible and the icy water would kill you if the sharp rocks did not. Compared to that, this crossing was as easy as snuffing a fire.
The first of the mounted soldiers approached, and Dromak and I waved them forward, watching intently as they crossed as a group. Droplets sprayed in all directions as four rode abreast, soaking the hides of the others around them.
The first supply wagon was next, and the driver pulled up the team of horses in front of us. “How do you want us to go, Kormánzó Vagach?”
“You must cross without stopping. Vezet? Dromak has suggested that some walk or ride on the left hand side of the wagon to break up the flow of water,”
I replied, pointing to the river.
“Aye, we will do that,”
one of the soldiers under my command volunteered.
“We will watch, but shout if you need assistance. You are the first to cross, so this will be a test to see how it goes,”
I cautioned, sweeping my attention over the group.
Ten males gathered in a perfectly straight line on the side of the wagon, and when the driver instructed the horses to pull forward, they fell in step with it, splashing into the water at the same time.
I held my breath, studying every shift in the way the water moved, every jostle of the wagon over a large rock, every slip of a foot against the slick stones. One male at the back nearly went down, only to be caught by the one in front of him and hauled upright again. After a nod of appreciation, they kept moving, every one of them making it safely to the opposite bank where Jaku waited.
“That’s a relief,”
I commented to Dromak.
He snorted. “Only a dozen more to go.”