11. CHAPTER ELEVEN
Amassacre. The whole royal family killed in a single night, even King Pandion’s legendary unit, the Silver Shields, which Damocles had always spoken so highly of.
And a Megarian prince taken hostage by the Emperor.
Katell’s plan to travel to Megara was unravelling more and more with every revelation.
For years, Damocles had spoken of the threat of the Rasennan Empire. Rumours of their aggressive expansion and ongoing wars with their neighbours reached the Freefolk with each new refugee. In summer, haggard-looking families arrived in rags, famished after days of trudging across the harsh steppe.
Many could not leave the horrors of war behind, and their screams pierced through camp at night. Damocles had forbidden his daughters from approaching new families until they had settled, but that didn’t stop the whispers.
To the Freefolk, the Rasennan Empire was little more than a distant threat. Yet now, hearing Magni recount Megara’s fate, the danger seemed very real.
How could she ever keep Alena safe in lands rife with war and massacres?
Magni’s voice broke through her thoughts. “The Sailor is on our side.”
A shoreline bordered with trees and jagged rocks appeared in the distance.
“So, it’s true, then? The gods keep their names hidden?” Alena asked. “Lest mortals make a pact with them?”
Katell’s breath hitched. Her sister’s curiosity would be their downfall. Too many questions always drew suspicion.
The fisherman chuckled. “Of course! After all, there is power in a name. If I knew the Sailor’s true name, I could ask him for better health or an unsinkable fishing boat, although my sacrifice may be too meagre for either Gift. We haven’t seen any Gifted mortals around these parts in years, though. Years ago, the priests kept the Sailor’s name to themselves, and now it is forgotten.” He paused, the lines etched into his weathered face deepening. “How come you girls don’t know about the gods?”
Seated cross-legged, Katell covertly grasped the dagger stashed inside her boot. “We came from farther east—the steppe lands beyond the pine forests.”
He bobbed his head as though he’d expected her answer. “Freefolk, then? Your accent struck me as familiar, though it’s been months since your kind visited the Deep River. Any reason why you’re travelling south?”
Alena opened her mouth, but Katell cut her off. “Change of scenery, that’s all.” She cast a glance at her sister in silent warning.
Perhaps sensing their discomfort, Magni didn’t ask any more questions.
The boat sailed across the water at a reasonable pace. Katell grew tenser with every passing moment, deliberating the perils ahead. As if wild beasts and slavers weren’t dangerous enough, they might also encounter Rasennan soldiers.
Soon, boats and huts emerged amidst a tall sea of reeds. The settlement was larger than Magni’s. Katell counted two dozen villagers milling about, enjoying the last few hours of sunlight. Fishermen toiled away at the river’s edge, untangling their nets.
The small boat coasted ashore, its bow kissing the pebbled beach. Stares followed Alena’s auburn hair as she climbed out and helped unload their supplies.
“Wait here. I’ll find Leiva and make the trade for you.” Magni glanced sideways at the other fishermen. “Don’t talk to anyone. Folks on this side of the shore are wary of strangers. There’ve been too many slaver attacks of late.”
Sitting on the beach, the sisters brushed sand from their feet and slipped their supple leather boots on as they waited.
After a while, Magni returned with a donkey in tow, breaking into a wide smile. “You’re in luck. She still had this one left.”
Katell raised an eyebrow. The chestnut-coloured pack animal was much smaller than a mule. “You’re certain it can carry our bags?”
The fisherman gave a hearty laugh. “They’re very strong! Don’t you worry about this one here: Leiva breeds the best pack animals in the area. They used to be in high demand when the trade route was running.”
He passed the rope to Alena, who beamed and patted the beast’s muzzle and long ears. Then, the three of them set to work, strapping the supplies to its back.
When their bags were well secured, Magni guided them to a narrow dirt road leading west. “If you ever need to cross the river again, be sure to ask for me. And be careful on the road. Two women travelling by themselves… It’s dangerous, and I don’t just mean the army or the slavers. It’s the gods themselves you need to be concerned about; they don’t take kindly to strangers wandering into their fields and mountains. If you see an altar or pass a temple, make sure you leave an offering. Think of it as payment for borrowing their land.”
Taking note of his earnest tone, Katell nodded. “We appreciate the advice. Thank you again for your help.”
After they exchanged farewells, the fisherman waved them off. “I wish you well in your quest to find whatever you’re seeking. May the Sailor bless your travels.”
Alena sat close to the campfire, twirling their mother’s gold necklace in her hands and inspecting every facet. “What do you think Mother was like?”
Katell froze, whetstone hovering above her blade. They’d stopped and taken shelter in a small cave at the foot of a hill for the night. The donkey, hidden among a cluster of bushes, had proven remarkably agile, navigating the uneven terrain with practised ease.
After spending the entire day walking under the sun’s relentless glare, the last thing Katell wanted to think of was her parents.
Her real parents.
In her mind, Damocles was her only parent, and she couldn’t imagine otherwise. He’d taught her everything she knew, yet he’d lied to her all her life.
Protect the family, no matter what.
He’d repeated those words so often that they were engraved in her skull and carved into her heart. He must have hounded them to prioritise their family because he’d known that they’d one day learn the truth: that he wasn’t part of it.
The hypocrisy of his words stung worse than any blade ever could. Alena was her only family now, the only family she needed. And Katell would protect her until the end.
“I’ve never really thought about it,” she finally answered. “Why do you ask?”
It was always best to indulge her sister’s line of questioning, or neither of them would find sleep. Alena pursued answers as tirelessly as Katell pursued game.
Alena’s thumb traced one of the crafted horses’ heads. “What if she was a terrible mother? What if they were both terrible parents, and Damocles took us away to save us? There were plenty of bad parents among the Freefolk. Octavia’s mother was always horrid, and Leywani—”
Katell flinched at the name. She didn’t like remembering what had happened to her childhood friend.
It meant remembering how her own freedom had sentenced her friend to a miserable fate. The sight of Leywani’s bruised face the morning after her wedding night forever stained Katell’s memory of a girl who’d once been full of life, always singing and laughing.
She sheathed her blade with more force than necessary. “I doubt Damocles would have told you to find our parents again if they were bad people.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Alena wrapped the necklace in its cloth and slipped it back into her satchel. “I just can’t stop thinking about our real parents. We always thought our mother was dead, Kat. And now there’s a chance she’s not, and I want to find her. And our… father. But I’m scared.”
Katell sat in silence, waiting for Alena to say more. Her sister had a habit of speaking her feelings aloud and wearing her heart on her sleeve. She was too soft-hearted for the world that awaited them; she’d never survive on her own.
“I’m scared our parents don’t want to be found,” Alena went on, hugging her knees. “But most of all, I’m scared of what might happen as we search for them.”
Katell sighed. “Me too, little star. I want to keep you safe.” She unsheathed Damocles’ dagger and rubbed more grease on the whetstone.
They’d been lucky so far. They’d travelled through a wooded valley towards the snow-capped, jagged mountains Magni had described while avoiding settlements. But sooner or later, their luck would run out.
Katell had witnessed the dangers of the Old Lands while hunting with Damocles. Army deserters were a rare sight on the steppe, but those they did encounter were armed to the teeth and prepared to kill for the slightest morsel of food.
Besides, not all travellers who crossed the Deep River were fleeing war. Some were escaping far worse.
One particularly severe winter, Katell and her father had come across a mother and her child wandering the forest in search of food. In the freezing winds and boundless blankets of snow, the mother had materialised like a dark stain against the white backdrop. Up close, she’d been as gaunt and pale as a bag of bones, and beneath her dirt-brown tunic, her skinny legs had looked like twin twigs ready to snap. A bundled child was clutched against her chest, however, upon Damocles’ closer inspection, they’d realised the babe had already succumbed to the cold.
Katell would never forget the mother’s howl then—a cry from deep within her soul that had pained all their hearts. Her dark eyes had lost all spark of life, and she’d never made it to Camp Lukim.
Something about the way the woman had screamed into the ominous, grey sky still chilled Katell to the core. Behind the agony of losing a child, another emotion had beckoned to her.
Rage.
Against whom or what, Katell hadn’t been able to say, but when they’d spotted the iron shackle around the woman’s ankle, Damocles had understood.
“She’s a slave,” he’d said. “From the salt mines, perhaps. Not many of them wear chains, but they do in the mines.”
His answer had baffled her. Slaves? She’d heard about them in his stories but she’d never expected to encounter them on Freefolk Lands. “But… why?”
“Why do they wear chains? Why is she a slave? That is not for us to know.” Damocles had ruffled her hair, then helped her back on her horse. “The Freefolk need not concern themselves with the affairs of the Old Lands. We are free and we are safe. That is all that matters.”
Slaves. The word alone made memories of that terrible encounter so many years ago resurface and swim through her mind. What would they do if they met slavers on the road? If they were captured and sold to the salt mines?
What if they took Alena away?
The thought was unbearable, but it didn’t change the truth: her sister was vulnerable. Weak.
Why Damocles had ever allowed Alena to stop training after she’d shown no skill for hunting, Katell couldn’t understand. Had he thought he could protect her until she was married?
Katell was starting to doubt everything she thought she knew about the man she’d called ‘Father’.
Her grip tightened around the dagger’s hilt as she broke their contemplative silence. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe, little star.”
Alena blinked at her. “Is that why you’re honing your blades? For me? I can take care of myself, you know.”
Katell bit back a smile. “Barely.” She sheathed the Megarian dagger and tossed it to Alena. “Keep this inside your boot at all times. You never know when you’ll need it.”
Her sister did as she was told and then nestled into their spare blanket. “No matter what happens, we’ll stick together, won’t we?” Her question was a soft murmur, almost drowned by the crackling fire. “Even if we get separated, you’ll find me?”
The slight tremble in Alena’s voice tugged at Katell’s heartstrings. She leaned down and brushed her callused hand over her younger sister’s sun-kissed cheek. “I would never leave you, Alena. There’s no need to be afraid.” Katell kissed her forehead. “Even if the Moon separates us, I will look for you. Always.”