Chapter 42
In the morning, we ride hard for an hour, until I spot the remnants of a campfire. Many fires. Not far off lie deep wagon tracks, fresh in the soft ground. Against my better judgement, I look at Ryland. ‘It’s them.’
My stomach swoops low as he dismounts and kicks at the ashes with his boots.
‘It’s smouldering,’ he says. ‘We’re close.
’ In the set of his jaw, I find equal parts caution and determination.
He’s in elite-guard mode. Still, I bask in the way his eyes struggle to tear away from me, then mourn when he succeeds.
I’m a mess.
The weight of tension on all of us grows heavier as we ride on, knowing Atlas could be around the next corner.
We slow down so we’re not a thundering stampede announcing our arrival.
And then, just as we’re about to ride into a valley, there they are – a horde of dozens of trailers and wagons.
They’ve stopped for a rest and formed a circle, creating a protected space in the middle.
Most of their horses are being watered at a pond near the trees.
They’re close enough that it wouldn’t take much riding ahead to land a shot. We also have the high ground, while they’re exposed on open land. If only they didn’t outnumber us eight, possibly ten, to one.
‘What’s the plan?’ Fitzgerald asks. ‘Surround them and fire?’
‘I say burn their wagons,’ offers Levi. ‘Let them run.’
‘No,’ Samuel growls. ‘We can’t let them regroup to try again. This ends here.’
‘What?’ My heart jumps. ‘My sister is in there, and not all the guardsmen with her are irredeemable. Shouldn’t we at least see? Be cautious? It’s not their fault they were commanded to come.’
‘Trust me,’ Samuel says. ‘Once they figure out we’re here, a clear line will be drawn in the sand.’
What does that even mean?
‘Nothing is happening until we get Agatha out,’ says Ryland.
A claw of jealousy digs in. I push it away. ‘He’s right. It’s why I need to go in first. Alone.’
‘What?’ Ryland whirls on me.
‘Are you two idiots?’ asks Samuel. ‘If anyone goes in, we’ll lose the element of surprise – our only advantage.
Your priority might be this little love situation you’ve got going on.
But my priority is Kingsland, and I’m not pissing around.
So we’re going to flank them, then light them up.
And if you need to, we can chat about it afterwards. ’
Panic rises in my throat as Samuel continues to give orders. ‘Fitz and Clark, take the south side. Levi and –’
‘Samuel,’ Ryland snaps, pushing his horse closer.
‘No, Ryland,’ Samuel growls. ‘Your priorities are skewed now and you’re going to get us all killed – not to mention everyone in Kingsland. We’ll look out for Agatha, but you’re not deciding this. I’m taking the lead.’
It dawns on me that we won’t be changing Samuel’s mind. It leaves me no choice. I grab my reins and guide my horse away from everyone, my heart frantic.
Rufus notices me first. ‘Don’t do it,’ he calls.
I have to. I throw Ryland one last look before taking off at a gallop down the hill.
Almost immediately, I’m spotted by the men on watch. One guardsman, then two, point and shout in my direction. An arrow strikes the ground not far from me. A warning shot. The next one won’t be.
I stop my horse and wait, hands raised to show they’re empty. There’s a commotion as guardsmen rush to the line of their armed circle, taking up weapons. Some run to a catapult.
I make out the faces of Diggs and Petronis. Perry and Larson. All wolves – great. ‘It’s Marian!’ I shout, more than a little shaken.
As my name is repeated through the crowd, weapons start to lower.
‘What do you mean it’s –’ Atlas shoves his way to the front. His long fur coat flaps open to reveal a shiny breastplate. He spots me, head rearing back, then he spins on his militia. ‘Get your weapons down, you lackwits!’
His reaction has me exhaling. But he also left me behind for a reason, and I’ll be damned if I give him another chance to tie me up. I move closer until I’m about twenty-five feet away, then stop, searching the crowd. Where are you, Agatha?
Coatl arrives, his bald head sticking above the crowd like a middle finger through a ripped glove. His face is murderous, eyes bulging. My breaths come hard, knowing my presence is his failure.
‘How did you get here?’ Atlas demands. ‘How could you possibly have come on your own?’
I swallow hard. ‘I did.’
‘I doubt that,’ Coatl says.
Atlas appraises me warily. ‘Yes, I doubt that, too. Where are they? In the trees?’ Guardsmen switch their focus to the surrounding forest, going on alert.
My heart booms louder in my chest as my plan to ride in and steal Agatha before everyone starts shooting unravels.
‘You’re here with Ryland, aren’t you?’ Atlas asks. ‘And his friends. By the fates, are you here to stop me?’ He laughs, all jagged edges and mockery.
My skin heats as my chest heaves.
‘Well, then.’ He waves at his guardsmen. ‘Grab her. Take her in.’
‘Agatha!’ I shout and guide my horse to run parallel with the line of guardsmen. ‘Agatha! Where are you?’
‘Marian?’ she calls from within their protected circle.
I catch flashes of her loose hair as she runs through the crowd – until a hand grabs her, jerking her to a stop.
She screams and claws the air, reaching for me.
Her appearance is startling. She’s filthy and looks exhausted, as if she hasn’t slept in days.
‘Don’t just let her trot around,’ Atlas yells. ‘Someone grab her!’
My attention shifts to Diggs and Petronis, mounting horses to come after me – until I notice Coatl raise his bow and aim in my direction.
Suddenly, Atlas rips Coatl’s weapon from his hands. ‘Are you trying to shoot my daughter?’ Coatl sputters some excuse but is cut off with a hard slap to the face. ‘Nobody shoots her,’ Atlas yells to his militia. ‘And if she’s injured, I will kill you.’
My mouth falls open. Well, in that case … I nock an arrow in my bow and aim it at Diggs who’s creeping up on my left. ‘You heard him: you can’t hurt me. But come any closer and I will shoot you.’
He slows his horse and lowers his weapon, unsure.
I glance at Agatha. She’s hysterical as she tries and fails to free her arm. Fight harder. Her distress terrifies me. Enrages me. Not even when Coatl beat her, did she act like this. What have they done to her?
Nothing they won’t do again if I don’t stop them. And with that revelation, I find the courage I should have found a long time ago. ‘I have a message to deliver.’
The men quiet some.
‘Your journey ends here. You’re not going to Kingsland to pillage them.
I won’t let you.’ I find some eagles among the men – Jefferson and Millo.
Men who serve the Commander only because they wouldn’t survive the badlands.
I speak directly to them. ‘This isn’t who we are.
But it is the Commander. He’s a coward and a murderer.
And you’re wrong if you think he cares about you. ’ A murmur rises. I yell over it.
‘You’re right, I’m not alone. You are surrounded. You won’t escape, but you can choose a different path to do what’s right.’ I shout at the top of my lungs. ‘Revolt and join me!’
The faces before me are mostly stunned. Petronis snickers loudly, and although his ridicule bites at my skin, I’m not surprised. An arsehole until the end.
Atlas shouts commands to ignore me.
My eye catches on movement behind all of them. I spot Levi and then a sliver of Ryland’s face as they dive and roll under an unmanned wagon. My heartbeats turn painful – I need to keep the guardsmen’s attention on me.
Lowering my bow, I reach for my cape tucked in my saddlebag and hold up the vagabond hood I’ve used every time I’ve raided the militia. ‘Recognise this?’
Heads lean together, and a rumble spreads across the crowd. Some spout their outrage as they realise what it is.
‘Yes, I’m the raider!’ With my point made, I toss the garment away, knowing I’ll never wear it again. I’m done hiding.
‘I-it was you?!’ Atlas sputters. ‘You’re the thief?’
I raise my chin as a calm settles over me. ‘Yes, Atlas,’ I say, disrespectfully. He’s not my commander. ‘I’ve been sabotaging you for years. But your abuse of power ends today!’