Page 23 of Heart of Defiance

Signy straightens up from where she was crouched by the side of the old wagon. Her movement, all athletic grace, draws my gaze automatically.

She pats the side of the wagon, which is now standing evenly on four solid wheels and stripped of its ragged covering. “There. All we need to do is harness the horse and load it up.”

I leap to my feet. “I’ll help you with that. I think we’ve got a good supply of explosives now.”

Signy eyes the rows of assembled bottles and lets out a soft laugh. “I should probably be worried by how much you seemed to enjoy putting those together.”

I thought she was pretty from the first moment I saw herhollering for her neighbors to push back the Darium soldiers, but when she smiles, my heart skips a beat.

I grin back at her. “Who doesn’t enjoy a good blast?”

As she fiddles with the harness, a mix of the abandoned one that’d started to rot and fresh strips of leather we scavenged from the shoe shop’s rubbish heap, I lead over the largest of our three stolen stallions. It’s obvious that this woman has never harnessed a horse before, so she lets me take the lead, eyeing the animal warily. But despite her uncertainty, she rises to the task with the same unshakeable determination I’ve seen over and over in the past few days.

How did this incredible woman manage to drop into my life out of nowhere, in the worst of circumstances?

We heave the three large casks we’ve acquired into the front of the cart. I check to confirm that the lid will easily pop off before stocking the base of each with several doctored bottles and a flint. Signy should fit inside easily enough, but it’ll be more of a squeeze for any of the rest of us.

As we load up the rest of the crates and sacks, mostly stuffed with trash with only a topping of food showing where necessary to sell the story, Jostein and Landric come riding over on the other two horses.

Jostein hefts the raw roast in its waxed paper wrapping and nestles it in clear view. It’s the key to our entry to the fort after all.

Landric dispenses handfuls of battered fruits and vegetables from his sack, carefully arranging them so only the best parts are showing. He motions to Signy. “I got your lemons!”

I can’t help watching the interplay of emotions on his pale face as she hustles over to collect the yellow fruit. He’s trying to play it cool, but there’s an almost desperate intensity to his gaze.

I don’t think she notices how much it bothers him thatshe’s still standoffish with him. And I suspect that bothers him even more.

But if he used to talk to her the way the rest of her idiot neighbors did the other morning, her aloofness serves him right.

Signy gets down to work cutting into the lemons and squeezing juice into a few small oilskin pouches. Before I can ask her what she’s planning on seasoning with the stuff, Jostein grunts in warning.

Several figures are heading our way from town. I hop up on the back of the cart for a better view. “They’re all wearing regular clothes, no soldier uniforms. Three of them are from the bunch we talked to last night, a couple of women around the same age, and two older men. I think they’re all right.”

I don’t have any magical gift for judging people’s intentions, but the grim resolve I can make out on the new arrivals’ faces and the forcefulness of their strides suggests they’re committed to a task they expect to be risky but worthwhile. If they were coming out here just to betray us, I’d expect to see more nerves or signs of guilt.

We all gather together to meet our accomplices. As they near, I take in the details with a growing sense of satisfaction.

Not only do they look resolved, they’ve also come prepared. The two older men are carrying crossbows, as is one of the younger men. One of the women has a regular bow slung over one shoulder and a quiver of arrows on the other. The other woman and two men carry hunting knives.

They’re definitely anticipating a battle.

I step a little ahead of my companions and smile in welcome. “Good to see you all here. Are you ready to crack some Darium heads?”

A gleam comes into the eyes of one of the younger men. “Are we taking them on today? Where are we going at them?”

The older man next to him gives him a nudge. “I’d like toknow who we’re dealing with first, Sepp—and they’ll want to know who we are.”

Sepp ducks his head with an abashed look. “We were careful, like you said. This is my dad and a friend of his, Otmar. They do a lot of hunting—they know how to handle a weapon. And Tilman and Weiland brought their wives. The more of us can pitch in, the better, right?”

Jostein considers the group. “What happened to your other friend from last night?”

It’s the drunken one who’s missing, the one the soldier aimed his darts at.

Tilman grimaces. “He’s too hungover to be much use this morning, and I’m not sure he’d have the guts for it anyway. But those pricks from the fort have been terrorizing the whole town for too long. If we can do something about it…”

Otmar the hunter adjusts his crossbow under his arm. “Whatarewe going to do? Who called for this expedition?”

Before I can speak, Signy spreads her hands apologetically. “It’s just us. Last night, we needed to be careful too. But we’ve already destroyed one of their guard posts, just the four of us. With a little more strategy and the seven of you, I think we can take down the entire fort.” She tips her head toward the distant building.

---