Deathmarked (The Fatemarked Epic Book 4) Page 34

  Now he wished he’d been more willing to listen to Gaia tell him all that had transpired in the west after he’d been banished. But at the time there’d seemed to be no point. But now, he was staring at his past in the form of a man he never thought he’d see again.

  Why is he here? And how? he wondered, though he knew there was only one answer. An answer that shocked him more than anything else. They must’ve made an alliance, the east and the west. Either Rhea and Gareth or Sai and Gareth. Either way, it was what he’d worked so hard for. What he’d sacrificed everything for. He felt a warm sense of satisfaction at the realization.

  Somewhere along the way, the promised water and food was brought, and they ate as they rode. Ennis took long thirst-quenching chugs to wash down the handfuls of bread and meat he shoved in his mouth. Even Gaia, who had always been a dainty eater, tucked in with reckless abandon, oblivious to the grease and crumbs falling into her lap.

  Ennis had been to Cleo several times before, and barely took in the familiar city as it flashed past. If anything, it all felt like a dream.

  Finally, they reached the castle within the city, the gate already standing open. They were helped down and ushered inside, along a few short corridors, and into the courtroom.

  Sai was out of the throne—he’s sitting the throne, Ennis thought, remembering how one of his other brothers, Jove, had done exactly same, just before he’d been murdered—in an instant, rushing down the three steps and across the great room, embracing first Gaia, and then Ennis.

  “I presumed you dead, brother,” he said to Ennis.

  “You and the rest of the kingdom. But evidently I’m harder to kill than I look.”

  “Rhea told us everything.”

  He didn’t know if that was true, but there was no harm in Sai thinking it. His brother had always liked to feel important, in control. He wasn’t that different from Rhea in that way.

  Rhea.

  The name still tasted bitter in his mouth.

  And yet, his conscience felt dirty at leaving her behind. She came to rescue you. She didn’t have to do that.

  She’s the one who banished you in the first place.

  He was forced to push aside his inner argument when Gareth cleared his throat. He’d almost forgotten the easterner was still there. “An alliance?” Ennis asked.

  “For now,” Sai answered. “It was signed by Rhea, before the truth came out and she was stripped of her rights to the crown. Speaking of Rhea…” His brother’s sharp eyes darted to Gaia, who flinched slightly.

  “Someone had to do something,” she said. “It wasn’t right what you did to her, and you know it.”

  “Right?” There was mocking in Sai’s tone now, something he’d perfected over the years. “And you think anything she’s done since her coronation has been right?”

  “She saved Knight’s End during the northern invasion,” Ennis blurted out, immediately wishing the words back. Why am I defending her? It was like a disease, this need to protect his cousin. But he’d been a fool for too long. “Anyway, it’s over now. We are here, and Rhea is a captive in Phanes.”

  “You said she was Bane’s captive,” Gareth said, finally piping up.

  “What?” Sai said. “Brother, tell me everything. Leave nothing out.”

  So he did, ending with the attack Bane and the Phanecian troops were planning against the rebels.

  “Interesting,” Sai said.

  “We have to rescue her,” Gaia blurted out. “There were too many guards for us before, but now we have an army. We can march on Phanes, storm the city, and—”

  Sai raised a hand to silence her. “I am willing to…forgive…your betrayal, sister, as you were clearly not of sound mind, but she was sentenced to trade herself for Ennis. It didn’t happen the way we thought it would, but…”

  “Ennis, tell him. Tell him he is wrong.” Gaia was staring at him, but Ennis refused to meet his sister’s eyes, couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in them.

  “Rescuing Rhea will cost the lives of many men. I’m sorry, brother, both you and Gar…King Ironclad…have come a long way for nothing. The Phanecians will destroy themselves. There is no need to invade the south.”

  Gareth said, “Except to rescue your cousin, Rhea. Remember her?”

  Ennis was surprised to hear such words from one who’d been imprisoned by her for so long. “I am surprised you would defend her, Your Majesty.”

  “Perhaps I misjudged her.”

  “You didn’t.” It was Sai who spoke now, playing with a gold ring adorning his index finger. “And yet, strangely, I find myself in agreement with the easterner. This changes nothing. As soon as we are ready, we shall attack Phanes, but not to rescue Rhea. Their inner conflict will only improve our chances of victory. We must crush them once and for all.”

  Fifty-Eight

  The Southern Empire, Phanea

  Jai Jiroux

  Despite Jai’s efforts to keep the peace, tensions had continued to grow. Not just between the Phanecians and the Terans, but between Sonika’s Black Tears and Emperor Falcon.

  Thus far, Falcon’s attempts to persuade the Phanecians to negotiate a new social structure had been fruitless. They were as stubborn as the day was long. Jai could see it wearing on Falcon, and yet his determination had not yet waned. “Last resort,” the young emperor had muttered the last time Jai had seen him. He wasn’t certain what that meant, but at least no one had died yet, and Falcon seemed to be getting stronger by the day, his recovery complete.

  The army was prepared to march to the Bloody Canyons—at least that was set in stone. Unfortunately, it also meant that the assault on the mine of Kirev would have to wait, but that couldn’t be avoided. If they failed in the canyons, it wouldn’t matter anyway.

  Their scouts had seen an increase of activity in Hemptown in the last few days, and were certain the invasion would begin shortly. The rebel forces needed to be in place well before the enemy.

  And we will, Jai thought. In fact, Shanti had already left with a small force, hauling chariot wagons behind them. The chariots were piled high with barrels full of fireroot powder. It was the entire supply left in Phanea.

  He still remembered her demonstration a few days earlier. She’d buried sacks of the flammable substance in shallow graves, running fast-burning fuses across the desert. One by one she’d lit the fuses, counting off seconds in her head. At the penultimate moment, she raised her fist in the air and the charges had gone off in a series of explosions that opened craters in the terrain.

  It was just a test, but was still impressive. She’d explained how when the same was replicated in the Bloody Canyons, shards of metal and sharp stones would be included with the sacks of powder. Shrapnel, to expand the deadly reach of the explosions.

  We’ll take any advantage we can get, Jai thought, thankful he had Shanti as an ally.

  His armies were stretched before him in perfect formation, ten-thousand strong, plus a number of the slaves from the mines who’d chosen to join them. They were at the mouth of one of the northward-facing canyons, the shadows still deep as the sun struggled to break over the high cliffs.

  The urge to give all the slaves a choice flared inside him once more, but he feared a high percentage of the trained soldiers would leave, joining the multitudes who were already flocking to the ships prepared to sail for Teragon.

  If that happened, the Phanecians would defeat them. Slavery would be reinstated, and the slave ships would return to Teragon to round up those who had fled.

  That can’t happen. His justicemark flared in agreement.

  All eyes were on him. He scanned the area, searching. Where is Falcon? Where is Sonika and her Tears? Though Falcon would remain in Phanea and continue to reason with the Phanecians, he still expected him to come to see the army off. Sonika, too, even though her Black Tears wouldn’t ride out until the morrow.

  He spotted Marella, running along the edge of the mass of soldiers. Her face was unreadable as she approached, s
topping before him.

  “What is it?” Jai asked. His justicemark was firing now, sensing the wrongness in the air.

  “Sonika,” she gasped. “They’re going to begin executing Phanecians.”

  Jai fired an order for the army to wait, and then took off running.

  He found them like he had before, except this time two of the Black Tears held Falcon, who was struggling futilely. Another two Tears held one of the Phanecians. Jai remembered the man—he’d been one of the most vocal during the last encounter. Sonika Vaid stood before him, holding a long blade. There were already two dead Phanecians off to the side, Jai realized, horrified. “Denounce slavery and live,” she said.

  The man spat in her face.

  Slowly, she wiped the slime from her cheek. Jai took a step forward, about to speak, to shut this whole thing down.

  Sonika’s blade moved like a spear thrust, impaling the man’s heart, bursting from his back. She wrenched it back and her Tears released him. He slumped, dead before he hit the ground.

  “What have you done?” Jai said.

  Sonika turned. “What you were unwilling to. These people only understand force, power. Talk is getting us nowhere. This was the only option. Either they join us or they die.”

  Jai felt his mark pulse, but not fully. There was justice in this, but that didn’t make it right. “Are you going to kill them all? Is that the plan?”

  “If that’s what it takes.”

  He knew she wasn’t exaggerating. Sonika Vaid was a strong woman, a woman he respected. But she’d also been through a lot. Lost her parents. Her brother. Watched her people treated like dogs. Jai understood the anger she felt—he felt it too. And now she saw the enemy laid low. She was ready to bury them.

  But everything had changed, and their tactics needed to change to.

  “They can’t hurt us anymore,” Jai said. “We need to give Falcon another chance. Let him go.”

  Sonika narrowed her eyes at the emperor. “I know you think he’s different, but he’s not. He was as much of the problem as anyone. He’s a Hoza. This is his world—has been for years. So long as he lives the Phanecians will cling to hope that the old world can be restored. I can’t let that happen.”

  “I understand, but you’re wrong. Falcon was trying to survive, just like the rest of us. He almost died because of it.”

  Falcon finally spoke. “I agree with Sonika,” he said.

  Jai was incredulous. He might not know the emperor as well as Shanti, but this didn’t sound like him at all. “You want to kill all these people? Your people?”

  “Not execute them. That’s where Sonika is wrong. But I will fight them. Each and every one, if necessary.”

  Sonika frowned. “It’s a trick.”

  “No trick,” Falcon said. “Put me in that prison. Lock the gate. I will either emerge with what you want, or not emerge at all.”

  Jai said, “No,” at the same moment Sonika said, “Fine.”

  Jai shook his head. “This is madness.”

  “I received a response from Calypso,” Falcon said. “One word.”

  The change of topic took a moment for Jai to catch up to. “What word?”

  “No,” Falcon said. “Viper said no. The Calypsians will not come to help us.”

  Jai’s heart sank. Yes, they had an army of more than ten-thousand. But against the armies of the four cities it wouldn’t be enough, especially with their new weapons.

  “You’re saying we could use some more bodies?” Sonika said. “I say we force the lot of them to march into the Bloody Canyons. We can use them like a human battering ram. Falcon can be at the front, if he has a death wish.”

  Falcon said, “I will do that if necessary. But first let me in that cage.”

  Jai didn’t know what to do. His two allies were on opposite ends of the spectrum, and yet they both believed drastic measures were necessary. He couldn’t always control people, even if he wanted to.

  “Fine. Do what you will. I have an army to lead into battle.” With that said, he turned and walked away, a sick feeling churning in his gut.

  Fifty-Nine

  The Southern Empire, Phanea

  Falcon Hoza

  They despise me, Falcon thought as he stepped into the enormous cage. All of them.

  The looks they gave him weren’t dissimilar to that of the freed slaves. Dark. Angry. How can I unite two peoples who not only hate each other, but hate me too?

  Already most of the free slaves were planning to leave Phanes forever. And the Phanecians? They were prisoners, unwilling to change even in exchange for their own freedom.

  For once, he knew he needed to rely on the things his father had taught him. About power. About these people. They respect nothing but strength. They fear only that which can kill them. Everything else is noise.

  Falcon said, “You think I am weak, that I have failed you.”

  “You have,” one of the Phanecians said. He recognized the man with the drooping mustache. He’d been an advisor to the empire for many years. Poy Fet.

  “Then kill me,” Falcon said.

  It was the last thing the man seemed to expect him to say, and for a moment his certain expression faltered before resuming its sneer. He gestured to two of the larger men standing at his sides. “Kill him.”

  “No,” Falcon said. “You kill me. Or send your thugs one at a time. I will fight all of you if I must. I will kill all of you.” He hated his own words, but the answer to the riddle of the Phanecians wouldn’t be found in any of his books. This was reality.

  Behind him, Sonika said, “This is ridiculous, Falcon. Come out of there. Let me handle this.”

  He ignored her. “If any of you can defeat me in single combat, then I will give you your slaves back. Everything will return to how it was.”

  “What?” Sonika said. “You don’t have the authority to—”

  “I am the emperor!” Falcon said, whirling on her. “Not you. Not Jai. Me. This is my empire and I will decide what will be.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Then you will die. You cannot defeat them all.”

  Falcon knew she was right, but he also knew he didn’t need to. Just enough to force them to respect me the way they respected my father. He nodded and turned away.

  “Who’s first?” he asked.

  One of the thugs stepped forward.

  Bane

  Bane watched the confrontation with keen interest. The masses of Phanecians were so focused on Falcon Hoza that none of them noticed when he appeared off to the side.

  Beneath his cloak, he fingered his dagger.

  Wait, he thought. Let this play out. Perhaps they will do your work for you.

  He eased around several of the larger men to get a better view.

  One of the Phanecians was circling Falcon, his hands fisted in front of him. Despite his size, he moved with an easy grace, a born fighter. He swung a lazy punch, testing the waters.

  Falcon dodged it easily, bouncing on his toes.

  The next attempt was fierce, a hooked punch that caught Falcon on the jaw, rocking him back. Bane expected him to fall. He did not, only spitting out a wad of blood and resuming his stance. He knows how to take a hit.

  When his opponent attacked again, Falcon darted left and then barreled forward headfirst, using his skull like a spear, punching into the man’s gut. He gasped and fell backwards. Falcon drove him into the ground, unleashing a torrent of blows to his head and abdomen. Bane saw several of the Phanecians try to break free to help, but the man who’d exchanged words with Falcon shouted them back.

  Strange people, Bane thought. All that matters is the end result, not how you get there. They could kill Falcon so easily, but for some reason they stuck to some bizarre code of honor. Honor amongst slavers, he thought wryly.

  Finally, Falcon arose, his knuckles bloodied and his face a mask. The man on the ground wasn’t moving. “Who’s next?” he asked.

  Dozens of people pushed forward, eager now.

  Falc
on

  Twelve men were dead because of him, leaving an ill feeling in the pit of his stomach. Falcon was weary, one of his eyes swollen shut, his jaw aching. His knuckles were dripping blood—some his, some from those he’d defeated.

  The line of opponents only got longer and longer. Poy was somewhere in the middle, but he never seemed to move closer to the front. He is the key, Falcon thought. He is respected amongst the people. If I can kill him, or persuade him to stop this madness… Maybe there was a chance.

  “Falcon,” Sonika said. He’d avoided looking at her for a while now. He didn’t want to see the disgust on her face, because he knew it was warranted. Maybe we are the barbarians she thinks us to be. Maybe we all do deserve to be slaughtered.

  Again, he ignored her, focusing on the task at hand. His next challenger, a tall, wiry fellow with close-set eyes, performed an aerial maneuver, lashing out with his right foot.

  Falcon had learned the very same move, as well as how to defend against it, years ago, but his body was becoming more and more sluggish. He was a beat too slow to counter, and the man’s heel caught him in the jaw. He bit his tongue, blood pooling in his mouth. Something hard clinked, and he spat out a tooth. He wondered whether he would have any left when this was all over.

  The fighter followed up with a leg sweep, and this time Falcon managed to leap over it, swinging his arms into a modified cartwheel, landing with both feet at once and springing away. Then he went on the offensive, throwing up a slow right kick he wanted to be blocked—which it was—and using his forward momentum to jab an elbow into the man’s throat. He gagged, clutching at his neck, and Falcon slammed the heel of his hand into his nose. Blood exploded outward, splattering his face, but Falcon barely noticed, pushing forward to knee him in the gut and chop down on the back of his head.