Page 32 of Heart of Defiance

The rest of the rebellion doesn’t need me anyway. I could give myself up, buy my allies at least a little time, and they could decide when they’re really ready without me pushing them on to the edge of ruin. Maybe they’d still be able to rally again and win our freedom.

But maybe they wouldn’t. Maybe the spark of resistance would flicker out for good.

I swallow hard, my heart drumming against my ribs. Doubt constricts my lungs.

All I have to do is take one step forward and call out who I am…

The Darium leader turns on his heel. As he moves to his horse, he very deliberately brings his boot down on one of the sealace flowers.

He grinds it with a twist of his heel before he reaches for the saddle.

My spine stiffens. The murmurs fall away around me, and I know my companions have seen the gesture too.

No. We can’t let the Darium empire grind us down even more. We’re already shadows of ourselves, grasping at the scraps they’ve left us with.

Would I even have cared about the power of a gift if they hadn’t stolen my parents from me, destroyed my childhood?

I’ve seen the light of hope come back into so many people’s eyes in the past few days.Iput it there—by demanding more, by doing more.

We need this. If we don’t claim our victory now, if we let ourselves give up in despair, I don’t know how we’ll ever get that hope back.

I do take a step forward, but only to yell defiantly at the Darium company. “We won’t be crushed. This is our country, and we’re taking it back!”

A cheer louder than I was prepared for roars through the makeshift army around me. Townspeople and soldiers raise their weapons, ready for battle.

Captain Amalia smiles thinly and looks at the Darium side. “You’ve gotten your answer.”

My fingers clench around the handle of my hunting knife, but the leader motions for his company to withdraw. “When you meet High Commander Livius, you’ll regret that decision,” he calls over his back.

I square my shoulders, gathering all my renewed resolve.

Not if I have anything to say about it.

Chapter Twelve

Landric

It’s strange to realize that after all the hours I’ve spent in the company of the duke’s son, I’ve never actually visited his family residence just an hour outside of Feldan. I always had to wait for Rupert to come to me.

I never had any delusions about him seeing me as a true equal, but as I rein in the horse Captain Amalia gave me leave to borrow, I feel just how expendable I’ve been to him on a deeper level than ever before.

How expendable weallare, possibly. The image of the guards in Duke Berengar’s livery has haunted me since the confrontation with the Darium company yesterday.

The duke’s son and heir might not see me as worthy of full consideration, but there’s no one else from Feldan I can imagine him listening to at all. At least he’d decided I was one step up from a country hick.

If anyone’s going to talk to him, it has to be me.

A guard in the same dark green jacket calls to me from the other side of the gate. “What’s your business here?”

Not even a “sir” to soften the bluntness of the question, but then, I hardly cut a picture of refinement in my borrowed tunic and trousers that hang a little awkwardly on my body. I washed and tidied my hair as well as I could, but there’s only so much you can do with nothing but streams and camp soap to work with.

“I need to speak to Master Rupert about an urgent matter,” I say, attempting to make up for what I lack in appearance with lordly airs. “Tell him Landric from the town of Feldan is here—he knows me.”

The guard grunts. “You’ll need to wait at the gate.”

He trots off to the residence, leaving a silent companion behind. I adjust my position in the saddle, not sure whether I should dismount or expect to ride on in.

It takes several minutes to get my answer, with the thud of two sets of footsteps across the lane on the other side. I’ve swung out of the saddle before the guard can even open the gate, knowing Rupert will respond better if we’re on level footing rather than me looking down at him.

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