54. CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Shock rippled along the table after Brennus’ announcement.
All eyes turned to Alena, and her heart slammed inside her chest.
A dull roaring filled her mind.
The Rebel Queen’s daughter… the Rebel Queen’s daughter!
No, it couldn’t be.
“You’re mistaken, sir.” She struggled to regain her composure, and her voice shook. “I’m not from the Western Lands. I come from a place far east from here, beyond the Deep River.”
Brennus’ broad grin didn’t falter. “Nothing you say will make me change my mind. You are Andrasta’s daughter, there’s no doubt.”
His words struck all thoughts from her mind, and her breath died in her throat.
Leukos sat down and placed a warm palm over her knee, his touch light as a feather. “Alena, show him the necklace.”
The world swam around her, leaving only his face in stark clarity. He gave her an encouraging nod, and despite the grip of shock, she still found the strength to rise and place the wrapped torc on the table for all to see.
Taking a steadying breath, she added, “Before he died, my father gave me this. He said it belonged to my mother.”
She revealed the gold and bronze torc, and Damona gave a loud gasp.
“The White Mare’s torc!” Lug gaped at her. “How did you get this?”
Mouth set in a grim line, Brennus picked up the piece of jewellery and examined it. “Andrasta wasn’t wearing it at the Battle of Kendrisia, and many of our men saw it as a bad omen.” Thoughts of the past veiled his gaze. “She never told us what she’d done with it, and we didn’t ask. Some fools believed the White Mare had abandoned her, but the goddess never left her side. She fought on the battlefield with us, stopping the Rasennan cavalry in its tracks and scattering their horses beyond the hills. Had it not been for that cursed Laran and his demons, victory would have been ours.”
With each word, the tightness in Alena’s chest constricted further. “What are you saying? That… that this torc belonged to Andrasta—my mother?”
Brennus nodded. “Andrasta must have wanted to protect you. She came from the Tribes of the Sea, and the White Mare not only Gifted her magic but this torc as well to protect her in battle.”
Alena refused to believe it. “No, that can’t be true. I was brought up in a land far from here with my Megarian father and a sister—”
“Katell,” Brennus cut in.
The rest of Alena’s words sputtered, and she fell back on her chair. At her side, Leukos seemed just as speechless.
“Your sister,” the chief went on, “is she still alive? Where is she?”
“I don’t understand.” Lug’s gaze darted between Alena and his father. “Andrasta had two daughters? The stories only speak of one, who died of a fever while her parents fought at Kendrisia.”
Brennus shook his head, his gaze set on the torc clutched in his hands. “Very few knew of her second daughter. When Andrasta left to find the Amazons before the battle, she was pregnant and kept it a secret from her lover, Kallinos, or he wouldn’t have allowed her to leave. I followed him south to Achaea to prepare for war while Andrasta continued further east with a handful of her closest men.”
Dax slammed his cup on the table, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Spare us the war stories, Father. We all know them. The Emperor ambushed our army and the League at Kendrisia, and Andrasta arrived with the Amazons a day too late. They were defeated, Andrasta and Kallinos were taken to Kisra and killed, and the treaty was signed. Whatever happened to the children?”
Alena winced at the cold description of the Rebel Queen’s defeat.
Brennus shot his son a stern look, then fixed his attention on Alena once more. “When I visited the Tribe of the Sea for the harvest a few years back, Alcaros’ father and I found ourselves reminiscing about the war. In his drunken state, he admitted that Andrasta had given birth in the east and that one of the Megarians who’d accompanied her, a healer, had taken the child to a secure location.”
Damocles.
The ground seemed to crumble beneath Alena, and all the air rushed out of her lungs.
All the pieces were coming together. She pictured Andrasta, her mother, having given birth and about to head to war again. Whether the alliance won against Rasenna or not, a battlefield was no place for a newborn. So, she had handed Alena to Damocles, who’d travelled to the Wide Lands and settled there, waiting for news of the war.
Had Andrasta also trusted Damocles with Katell, who couldn’t have been more than a few years old? Or had she entrusted Katell to someone else, or sent her to safety later, when it was clear they were going to lose the war?
Alena’s mind spun with endless questions. Unable to face all the curious stares around the table, she lowered her head and clenched the folds of her dress.
A great weight crushed her chest as if it were about to cave in on itself. Emotions churned within her, like a tumultuous storm, leaving an aching emptiness behind.
Like a gaping black hole.
Leukos’ hand gripped hers beneath the table, infusing her with warmth. “Her sister, Katell, was taken by Praefect Dalmatius. We’re unsure what the Rasennans want with her, but she’s travelling with the Sixth Legion.”
A suffocating silence fell across the table.
Lug leaned closer, his face wan. “Andrasta’s eldest daughter is not only alive, but she’s a prisoner of the Empire?”
Dax scoffed, tearing into his bread. “Either a prisoner or she’s joined them.”
Alena clenched her fists tighter, almost numbing her fingers.
“It cannot be!” Brennus’ nostrils flared, and his neck muscles grew taut. “When the legions arrive, we’ll crush them. We’ll attack in the dead of night and take her back.”
“That would be unwise,” Leukos said coolly. “The hillfort is your best protection until reinforcements arrive. The Rasennans won’t risk an attack; they’ll lay a siege.” His attention shifted to Lug. “Have you started evacuating your people?”
“Yes, the druids can open our temple portal using magic. It connects to other hillforts, but there’s a limit to how many can cross each day. Once the legions are within sight, some may flee on foot, but most will go to the temple.”
Damona nodded, her eyes flicking between Leukos and her husband. “We will make sure to evacuate as many people as possible each day.”
Brennus pounded his fist on the table, red in the face. “The hillfort will not fall!”
Lug tried to placate his father while Dax shook his head, angering Brennus even more.
Leukos ignored the ruckus and squeezed Alena’s hand in reassurance, but she was too numb to respond. After a beat, he pursed his lips and stood, silencing the Westerners. “That’s enough for today. Alena needs to rest. She’s still recovering from the Blood Wolf’s attack.”
Alena could barely hear him over the roaring in her ears. She let him help her to her feet.
Brennus wrapped up the torc and handed it back to her. “Rest and we shall talk longer tomorrow.”
She took her mother’s necklace without a word and followed Leukos back through the courtyard and onto the street.
The sun was high in the sky, heating the flat stones beneath her sandals, yet her body trembled. The golden torc lay heavy in her sweaty hand.
Why had she kept the cursed necklace all this time?
Why had Damocles even given it to her in the first place? Why give her hope when all that awaited her was loss?
All those years pretending to be a family, listening to his stories about the Rebel Queen, and for what?
Anger coiled within her, filling the void inside her chest with every step. While Leukos walked ahead, lost in his thoughts, she slipped down a side alley. She didn’t know where she was headed, but she needed to get away, to have a moment to herself, far from the bustling hillfort.
The crowds thinned, and she reached the impressive wooden palisade built atop a stone wall.
Magic tingled across her skin, slipping loose of her potion’s control. Her pulse quickened, and she hurried to the closest gate, the noises sharpening around her. When she glanced at the imposing watchtower guarding the gate, her Gifted sight spotted every nail and fissure within the woodwork.
The guards gawked at her but made no attempt to block her as she passed through the open gate and followed the well-trodden path on the hillside.
Beyond the walls, a deserted wasteland covered in tree stumps greeted her: the forest had been cleared for the hillfort’s needs. The desolate scene was a shocking contrast to the lush valley below.
Alena continued down the hillside, the distant chirping of insects overpowering her own thoughts. She stopped at a flat outcrop of rock overlooking the rolling hills of verdant meadows and gentle slopes.
The Green Mountains Tribe was aptly named.
Threads of magic prickled within her chest, stretching out towards the wolves roaming the surrounding mountains in packs. She felt their presence. One thought, one summon, one word, and they would come running to her side.
They called to her, but she refused to answer. Refused to think about them, or her heightened senses.
Instead, she stared at the wrapped torc in her hands. The piece of jewellery she’d treasured and protected for days on end no longer served any purpose.
Andrasta—her mother—was dead.
Kallinos—her real father—was dead.
The torc hadn’t answered her wishes for a family reunion; it had shattered them.
She approached the edge of the precipice, staring at the void below. The wind whistled along the mountainside, carrying with it a familiar spicy scent.
“Alena.”
“Not now, Leukos.”
“Why?” The soles of his sandals slapped against the hard rock. “What are you going to do? Throw away the torc?”
“And why not?” Her emotions caught fire, and she whirled around, her voice rising with each word. “What good is it to me now? It failed her. Andrasta is dead! You made that perfectly clear when we first met. I believe your exact words were ‘the crowds cheered while they were torn to pieces’.”
She sucked in a shuddering breath. Tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she shook her head, refusing to let them fall.
“It’s not fair,” she breathed, her words hot and bitter. “My whole life I believed my mother had died after my birth. Damocles never told us much, and I spent countless nights thinking about her. When he told me to find our real parents, I thought she’d still be alive. That both of them might be alive. And I clung to the hope that someday, somewhere, I would find them again.” A sharp ache bloomed in her heart. “I was an idiot to even hope.”
Dropping her gaze, she ground her teeth. Katell had been right not to think about their real parents. Hope was a double-edged sword that could shape dreams or cut them asunder, leaving devastation in its wake.
How would Katell react once she found out their mother had been the Rebel Queen—the warrior queen her sister had so admired as a child?
What would Katell do to the legion then when she found out the Empire had sent their parents to the arena to be slaughtered? That Rasennan praefect would rue the day he’d ever met her.
Although the thought provided Alena some solace, it couldn’t dispel the yearning that swelled within her heart, making her miss her sister even more.
With a gentle touch, Leukos clasped her elbow, pulling her from her thoughts. “You’re not an idiot.”
She shook her head, scoffing. “Here.” Grabbing his wrist, she thrust the bundled torc into his palm. “Take it. I don’t need it anymore.”
His eyebrows rose, and she turned away, desperate for a moment to collect herself before she drowned under the torrent of emotions that threatened to break through.
She stared at the verdant valley below—a land her mother had sacrificed everything for.
“Andrasta sent her own children away not knowing if she would ever see them again.” Her words barely carried, a fragile whisper. “And then she lost. It didn’t matter whether she was Gifted by the White Mare or had an army of fifty thousand strong; she still lost.”
The hard truth pressed down on her chest like a heap of stones that robbed her of breath. In the distance, a whistling howl floated on the wind.
Hot tears welled up, distorting her surroundings. How could everything have gone so wrong?
Another wail reached her ears, followed by another, then another. Soon the wolves’ howls echoed across the valley, giving voice to the grief tearing her up inside.
Behind her, she heard Leukos’ heartbeat quicken.
“Alena…”
She caught herself and, with a single thought, the howls stopped, the cicadas’ incessant buzzing resuming.
“I don’t know why the gods chose me.” She touched the linen bandage on her left hand—the bandage that hid the golden Omega etched in her skin. “But at least now I’ll be of use to the rebellion, and together, we can fight back against the Empire.” She faced Leukos again. “For my dead parents. For yours.”
He merely watched her, his expression exuding a solemn intensity.
She frowned, his silence unnerving her. “Emperor Tarquinius has to pay for everything he’s done. We have to end him.”
“And we will, but not yet.”
She rankled at his words. “Then what would you have me do?”
He stepped closer, his unwavering gaze boring into her own. “You’re going to keep doing what you were always meant to do. You’re going to keep your promise and save your sister.”
I will find you… I promise… no matter where they take you… I will find you, Kat.
She reined in a sob and bowed her head, trying to shield her crumpling face from him.
He couldn’t see her weak and crying. Not again. He’d think she was still the same frightened girl he’d rescued from the slavers.
Her throat tightened, and a sob broke free nonetheless.
Stars be damned!
Leukos wrapped an arm around her trembling shoulders and drew her into his embrace. “You don’t have to hide your tears from me.”
His words were all the encouragement she needed before she buried her head in the crook of his shoulder and cried in earnest. Sobs wracked her body, and she clung to the back of his tunic, soaking the front with tears. Engulfed in his warmth and comforting scent, she let herself break.
His heartbeat was strong and steady in her ears, silencing everything else and soothing the pain in her chest. She’d been a complete stranger to Leukos when they’d met, a nuisance, and yet he’d saved her life and taken care of her when she’d been falling apart. She’d returned the favour since, and they’d been through so much together, and yet… Like a towering pillar, Leukos had been a constant source of strength through it all.
A tall and unwavering presence she could always rely on.
In that moment, wrapped in his embrace, she grasped the depth of her feelings for him with sudden clarity.
Her tears receded at last, and she withdrew, using the back of her hand to dry her damp cheeks. He remained still, the rough pad of his fingers brushing away stray locks of her hair.
Blushing, she gave him a thankful glance. Pitch-black eyes roamed her face, pausing on her lips with a soft, lingering touch.
His breath warmed her skin, and her pulse skittered.
“Alena—”
A shadow whipped past them, and he stiffened, dropping his hands. The blurred figure circled them, round and round, lifting a cloud of dust.
Leukos released a sharp breath. “That’s enough, Nikander.”
The dust settled, and Nik emerged, looking far too pleased with himself. “So, what did I miss?”
“Nik!” Alena rushed over and pulled him into a hug despite the grimy state of his clothes. “Are you all right? I was so worried. Did you find San and Kaixo? How are they?”
“Good to see you on your feet, Red.” When he drew back, he did a double take at her face. “Twelve be damned, look at those eyes! And yes, the Non-Humans are fine, although San wouldn’t stop asking about you.”
Alena had a dozen more questions, but Nik raised his hands.
“Hold on, we have bigger problems to worry about.” His gaze pitched over her head at Leukos, his smile fading. “They’re here.”
Leukos cursed under his breath. “How many?”
“Two full legions will arrive before nightfall from the east, the First and Third. The Sixth is on its way, too, roughly a day behind.”
“Dalmatius?”
Nik shook his head. “I didn’t get close enough.”
“One legion was hard enough, but three will be impossible.”
Leukos stepped closer to the rocky edge, and Nik followed. They stood side by side, assessing the hillside and valley below. Alena gawked at them as they worked together without any arguments or taunts.
The Blood Wolf had changed everything.
“The Rasennans can’t attack the hillfort from their lower position without losing hundreds of men,” Nik said, scratching the scruff on his cheek.
Leukos nodded. “The path is too steep and narrow. The legions will have to lay siege in the valley below, giving Brennus plenty of time to send for help.”
“A siege?” Alena echoed. “How long can the hillfort last if three legions surround it?”
Leukos peered over his shoulder. “The hillfort can hold. Damona mentioned they had enough food to feed an army for months. If Volcos had already anticipated this attack, then no doubt he’s on his way with reinforcements.”
Nik’s eyebrows lowered. “I haven’t spotted any other Westerners so far.”
“Then we’ll wait.”
Their leader folded his arms, his gaze fixed on the valley as if he were expecting the legions to arrive at any moment. Nik was equally lost in thought.
“So long as neither side attacks, the hillfort can hold.” Leukos’ voice drifted on the wind, leaving her unsure whether he sought to convince them or reassure himself.
Alena stilled. “Surely the Rasennans wouldn’t risk an attack?”
Between the steep rocky hillside and the towering palisade, the Western settlement held a huge defensive advantage. Ascending the hill would be madness.
Leukos shared a grim look with Nik, then glanced back at the hillfort. “It’s not the Rasennans I’m worried about.”