Chapter 31 #3
Still holding the horse’s reins, Arnza stepped beside Katell and let out a low whistle, lips curling in a half-smirk. “That’s… not exactly how I thought things would go.”
Katell wiped her dagger on her tunic before sheathing it. Ennius stood firm, eyes sharp, unreadable.
“Quick thinking,” Katell said, gauging him. He hadn’t intervened—just watched. “Are you going to make a problem out of this?”
Ennius’ jaw tightened, but he shook his head. “No. Legate Tarchun was a fool. The Emperor’s orders were explicit when he first sent word that Laran’s Chosen was coming to Tiryns. You were not to be harmed. Under any circumstances.”
Katell allowed herself a brief, grim thought—it was fortunate her status protected her. Otherwise, she’d be fighting her way out.
She pressed on. “The attack on the villages—can you stop it?”
Ennius hesitated, then glanced at his men. “No. The First won’t listen to me. They barely obeyed Legate Tarchun. They have their own mission. They’re searching for someone.”
Katell’s mind raced. Even with Pinaria and Arnza, she couldn’t stop a whole cohort—and it would take days to reach Dodona. There was no time to waste. “Send word anyway. Tell them I’ve escaped and the attack is off. Maybe it’ll shift their focus back to Tiryns.”
Ennius raised an eyebrow. “And if they don’t?”
“Then let’s trust the Tirynthians to protect their own people.”
Alena wouldn’t stand by while innocent people were slaughtered. With Leukos and Nik, Katell had to trust they’d act swiftly.
Ennius gave a curt nod before turning to the soldiers at his side. “You heard her. Saddle the horses and find the cohort. Tell them to return to camp immediately. Go!”
The men rushed off, boots thudding against the ground as stable hands moved to help.
Katell turned to her friends. “We also need to send word to Dalmatius. If he learns we’re headed to Dodona to confront the First, he’ll come. I know it.”
Pinaria shook her head. “Legate Dalmatius will never get our message in time.”
“We have a reliable messenger route to Salona,” Ennius said. “We can get them a message in three days, and from there, carrier pigeons fly to every corner of the Empire.”
“Let’s try it,” Katell replied, the weight of time pressing down on her. She turned to Arnza. “Go. Write to Dalmatius. Tell him everything that happened and where we’re headed.”
Ennius signalled to the stable hands for more horses, then glanced at Arnza. “I’ll show you to my tent. You can use parchment and ink there while I find a rider to deliver the message.”
Katell nodded. “We’ll prepare the horses and wait for you here.”
Arnza hesitated, his eyes flicking to Pinaria more than once, worry tightening his jaw. But when Pinaria gave a small, reassuring nod, he finally turned away, falling into step with Ennius.
Katell and Pinaria remained in the stables, the shuffle of hooves and occasional snort the only sounds in the heavy silence.
A young stable hand led out two more horses, their tails swishing as they stepped from their stalls. Another approached with saddles. Pinaria took one, and together with Katell they moved with quiet efficiency, securing straps and loading bags.
Once the stable hands left, Pinaria’s gaze lingered on Katell, her expression softening as if she could sense the storm of emotions beneath her calm exterior.
“Did you see your sister?” she asked. “In Tiryns?”
Katell stilled, a tight knot forming in her chest at the mention of Alena.
Since the battle at the hillfort, she had shared fragments of her past with Pinaria—small, guarded glimpses of her life before everything changed, including stories of her sister.
But she had never spoken of the Freefolk, the secret she’d entrusted only to Dorias.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Alena helped me escape.”
Pinaria hesitated, her expression softening further, almost pained. “And she’s the one who told you about your friend in Dodona?”
Katell nodded, fingers tracing absent patterns over the horse’s flank. “She was furious. Blamed me for what happened to our people… She believes I’m the reason they were enslaved.”
Pinaria frowned, tightening the straps on a rolled blanket.
“But that doesn’t make sense. We know the Emperor needs more labour for his temples, but you’re from the Deep River.
Why would the First—or any legion—invade foreign lands when they have closer territories?
Your people have their own gods, their own magic, their own—”
“My people have no magic,” Katell cut in, her voice tight. “They renounced the gods long ago. Anyone with a Gift was cast out.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “They turned their backs on those who could have protected them.”
Pinaria blinked, then her eyes widened with realisation. “Laran’s shield… You mean the Freefolk?! They’re real?”
“Yes.”
Pinaria let out a slow breath, absorbing the revelation. “If that’s true, they were easy labour for the Emperor—just like the Non-Humans—despite how far out they live.” Her gaze met Katell’s over the horse’s back, her expression turning grave. “What will you do?”
“I don’t know yet.” Katell’s fingers tightened around the saddle strap, knuckles white. “But if my friend, Leywani, is there, I’m getting her out. Tarxi be damned.”
Worry creased Pinaria’s brow. “It won’t be simple. He can control minds. We’ll need a plan.” Urgency crept into her tone. “And if Dalmatius doesn’t vouch for us, we’ll be branded traitors. Enemies of Rasenna. They’ll hunt us down—no hesitation. No mercy.”
Katell didn’t need reminding. She’d seen the legions’ justice firsthand. On the northern front, when the cold drove men to desert, their executions were swift and brutal, carried out by their own. Fortunately, none had been from the Sixth.
“Dalmatius will make it in time. We have to trust him,” Katell said firmly. “But if things go wrong…” Her throat tightened under the weight of what she was asking. She didn’t deserve their loyalty. “I need you to promise me—”
“Kat—”
Katell reached over the saddle and gripped Pinaria’s hand, cutting her off. “Promise me that you and Arnza will run. Do you understand? Don’t risk your lives for me. Whatever happens, I’ll survive. But if either of you gets hurt…” Her voice wavered. “I couldn’t live with that.”
Pinaria’s breath hitched. For a moment, she looked ready to argue. Instead, she pressed her lips together and blinked back the tears welling in her blue eyes.
Squeezing Katell’s hand in return, she whispered, “I promise.”