Dragonlands(61)

Tressa laughed, even though she knew it was true. Especially after her performance a few minutes ago. She should have fought back. Kneed him in the crotch. Anything to set herself free. Instead she accepted her death sentence without even attempting to battle for her life.

Pathetic. She’d never make it. But she had no other choice. Going back to Bastian in defeat. No, she wouldn’t make her sacrifice mean nothing. She’d do what she set out to do. Defeat Stacia. Avenge Connor. Set her people free. Only then could Bastian fully be hers.

The face of his little daughter interrupted her thoughts. She tried pushing it away, but Farah’s tears poured into her dream. She was taking her father away from her.

Snap! Leo stood in front of her, his fingers together. “Wake up, chouchou. Practice is over.”

“No.” Tressa put a hand on his arm. “I must keep practicing until I’m ready.”

“You will never be ready for what you will face.”

“But –”

Leo laid his hand over her mouth. “Physically, you are ready. You are never ready mentally. Not even after you make your first kill.”

“It doesn’t get easier?”

“Never.”

The sun had sunk below the buildings, bathing them in shadows. Night descended too quickly when they were practicing. “I have to get back to the inn for the evening meal. Ira needs me.”

“I know. I’ll make an appearance there tonight as well. What I did to you had to be done, but it weighs heavy on my heart. A girl like you shouldn’t ever have to face an enemy like Stacia. You should be at home, with a man and children to love you.”

“I never had a chance at a normal life. If I ever want to live life my way, it’ll take freedom from tyranny.”

“That’s not a small order,” Leo said as they walked back to the tavern. He stopped a few paces away from the bustling people headed out for an evening meal or back to their homes after a long day of work. “You never did tell me how you planned to stop Stacia once you joined the Black Guard.”

Tressa looked at her feet. She didn’t have an answer. That scared her more than fighting for her life in the arena.





Chapter Thirty-Nine


Swords clanged in the damp air. Bastian's crossed with Adam's, over and over again until their forearms ached. Adam dropped his to the ground and held his hands in the air.

"I'm done. For today, at least." Adam rubbed his hands up and down his arms. "I'm not sure if you're getting us ready for war or trying to systematically wear us down."

Bastian laughed. "You're stronger now than you were a few weeks ago."

"True. True. When do you think we'll be ready to head out?" Adam nodded at the fog.

Since the day Bastian argued with the townspeople, everyone had decided to stay. Those who could pick up a sword spent a couple of hours each day practicing. The rest of the time they packed. Deciding what to bring and what to leave was hard. They didn't know if they'd ever make it back into the village.

Bastian encouraged them to pack light. To only bring what was necessary. It didn't make it any easier. Adam had a rough time. As the only healer, he had a variety of tools and instruments at his disposal. But they were iron, and heavy. Bringing them could save someone's life, but he wasn't sure how to carry everything himself. Udor had promised him an apprentice. Yet no one had shown interest.

"In a few days," Bastian answered. "I don't want to wait too long or people might forget what we're training for. It's too easy to fall back into familiar patterns." He clapped his uncle on the back. "I'm glad you're training. It's important for you to be protected because we desperately need your skills out there. But if you should be attacked, you must be able to defend yourself."

Adam stretched out his arms, swinging them side-to-side. "I think I'll be ready for anything tossed at me."

Bastian sighed. "I don't want anyone to be cocky. None of you know what's out there. This village," Bastian looked around at the simple homes, "is nothing like what's out there." He walked ahead, Adam next to him. "The buildings are made out of the same materials, but the people are far more ruthless and dangerous. They make Hutton’s Bridge look like it's populated by simpletons."

"Bastian!" Kaima ran toward him, her skirts lifted up to her ankles to keep her from tripping over herself. "We need your help. Over here! Yours too, Adam."

The men took off running after Kaima. A howl of pain came from the back of the town hall.

"Hurry," Kaima yelled over her shoulder.

Two men struggled behind a building, their arms wound around each other. A child lay on the ground, covered in blood.