Page 39 of Conflicted Fate
“This is a nice-looking boat,” I said, patting the deck on which we were crouched, feeling the smooth newness of thefilmoretree planks that had gone into the construction. “I’m glad the rebellion’s money came through for you.”
Alann, captain of the brand-new fishing boat, which held nearly sixty concealed members of the rebellion, grinned at me, his hands on the wheel. “Try not to sink this one, will you? I just finished her shakedown trial last week.”
I smothered a laugh. Although it was unlikely to have drawn attention, I didn’t want to risk it. We were too close, our objective nearly in sight.
Glancing to my left, I could just barely see over the lip, where a second fishing boat joined ours. Three more were out there as well. Each one was crammed with members of the rebellion. Over three hundred men and women who believed enough in our cause to risk their lives on Kiel’s insane plan.
There were more, too, according to Alann. The city was ripe for the taking. We could expect others to rise up in support once it became known. Between the riots we’d instigated last time and the Alpha’s response—not to mention hisdeath—people were asking questions and finding out they didn’t like the answers.
Which was how we’d managed to drum up so much support from the surrounding towns and bring it with us. Only about fifty of us had come direct from the mines. The rest were newcomers.
I just hope none of them are spies.
I shook my head. It was too late for that kind of thought. We were committed now. All of us. Not one of the “council” had voted against the plan in the end because we knew our time was limited, and we had to act. Now, we were minutes away from pulling up to the piers of Arcadia’s docks, setting the stage for the first real full-scale battle of the rebellion.
“You’re awfully calm,” I remarked to Kiel, who was crouched on my other side.
My hands were clammy, and sweat had plastered my hair—back to its silvery nature now that the makeshift dye of thefilmoretree’s sap was washed out—to my neck. Even my stomach was getting in on the action, tying itself in knots and threatening to void itself of all contents, regardless of direction.
He only grunted in response.
“Can you see the future or something? Is that why? You know we’re going to succeed?”
He smiled, looking up from his own contemplative thoughts, letting me see into his eyes and showing me he wasn’t calm at all. He just had none of the outward signs of the extreme stress I was experiencing.
“No, not at all. Why do you ask?”
“You just seem to know this will succeed. That you think it can’t fail.”
“Oh, it can,” he said, causing several of the other fighters nearby to shift and stir. “But it won’t.”
“Why not?” I asked, hoping he knew what the hell he was saying. The last thing we needed was for people to start having doubts.
“Because they believe,” he said, thrusting his chin at the others, meaning the rebels who had joined our cause. Not just those on our ship, but onallthe ships. “Finally, at long last, theybelieve, Jada. They can see things are changing, that they don’thaveto listen. That there's an alternative, something out there that speaks to the voice inside them that they've had to repress and ignore. The one saying things just don't 'feel' right. Now, they know why. Now, they can do something with it.”
“There will be those who resist us, who resist that voice,” I said softly, not just referring to the Wulfhere, either.
“I know,” he said sadly. “But there willalwaysbe those who resist. Who are too scared, who don’t understand, or who simply dislike change. We can’tnotdo what needs to be done because of them. Sometimes, violence is the only way for things to change.”
He took a deep breath, letting out his frustration as it started to get the better of him. I squeezed his arm, offering what comfort I could.
“I wish it wasn’t,” he added, loud enough for others to hear but not so loud his voice would carry. The docks were close enough I could hear the creaking of the boats tied to them as they gently bobbed in the water. “I don’t like it. I hate that it has to be that way. But it is, and we need to accept it.”
I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I know. I feel sorry for them, too,” I told him, acknowledging what he was really getting at.
“If they want to surrender, we’ll let them,” he said. “But if they raise weapons against us …”
“Then we’ll do what we have to do,” I said with quiet fierceness, accepting the reality of our situation.
“I hate that I have to ask that of others,” he said.
“I know,” I said as the captain barked orders at his crew as we came within spitting distance of the dock. Men stood ready with ropes to toss to waiting shore workers on the piers that sat below the level of the decks while the sails furled.
Kiel grunted, his muscles tensing. It was so close, almost time. Mere feet away.
“I just hope,” I whispered, “that we’ll be able to let go when it’s over. To put down the swords and stop the killing and go back to who we were. I don’t want to find myself longing for these days.”
It was as close as I’d ever come to voicing my concerns about our path. That I knew the killing was becoming easier and easier. I no longer had the same regrets, the same disdain for it, that I had when it had first started.
