A Land Of Fire (Book 12) (11 page)

But Darius shared his restlessness, and
he could hardly blame him. Indeed, at Raj’s words, there welled up within Darius
a fierce desire to go, to let loose, to stop being so cautious as he had always
been. He, too, wanted to stop laboring, wanted to get out of this place. He would
love to go on a ride, to take an adventure on that zerta, and see where it took
him. To have fun for one day in his life. To have just a small taste of
freedom.

“Is there not one of you who has the
courage to join me?” Raj asked. He was taller than the other boys, older, with broader
shoulders, and he slowly scanned the crowd, looking at all of them with disdain.
All the boys turned away, shook their heads, looked down to the ground.

“It’s not worth it,” one boy said. “I
have a family. I have a life.”

“Maybe this moment is your life,” Raj
countered.

But all the boys looked away, not saying
a word.

“I’ll join you,” Darius heard himself
say, his voice deep, distinct, powerful beyond his fifteen years, reverberating
in his chest.

All the boys in the group turned and
looked at Darius in shock, and Raj stared at him too, clearly surprised. Slowly,
a smile crossed his face, along with a look of admiration. His smile broadened
to one of mischief.

“I knew there was something about you
that I liked,” Raj said.

*

Darius and Raj rode side by side on the
zertas, laughing aloud as the beasts galloped through the winding paths of the
Alluvian Forest, the wind in Darius’s hair, blowing back his ponytail, taking
the heat off his neck, cooling down the hot day and making him feel free for
the first time in years. This was reckless, he knew, and might even get him
killed—but a part of him no longer cared. At least for now, in this moment, he
was free.

Darius hadn’t ventured into the Alluvian
Forest in years, yet he had never forgotten it. A broad dirt path cut down its
center, and above them a canopy of trees arched low overhead, so low that
sometimes they had to duck. The forest was famous for its light green leaves,
so light they were nearly translucent, glistening and shimmering in the sun
above and casting a beautiful light down on the path. It was a sight that Darius
had never forgotten, and even seeing it again now took his breath away. The
trees, too, were unique, their bark nearly translucent, expanding and contracting
all the time, as if they were breathing, and the forest had a unique sound, a
soft rustling sound as the leaves swayed, almost like a grove of bamboo.

It was a magical place, Darius felt, a
place of true beauty in the midst of this arid landscape. As he raced, he felt
the sweat perpetually caked on his brow beginning to dissipate.

“Not as fast as your elders, are you?”
Raj called out, teasing, and suddenly took the lead, heading out several feet
in front of Darius.

Darius kicked his zerta, catching up to
him. Then Darius took the lead and leapt boldly over a felled trunk of an ancient
tree. Now it was his turn to laugh.

Soon enough the two were back to riding
side-by-side, and as they galloped deeper into the forest, Darius had never
felt so free, so liberated. It was unlike him, he who had been so cautious his
whole life, who had always planned everything perfectly; for once, he let
himself go. For once, he gave into the recklessness, not knowing where they
were going, and not caring. As long as they were out from under the taskmasters’
eyes, and as long as they were choosing their own path.

“You know if we get caught we’ll get
flogged for this, don’t you?” Darius called out.

Raj smiled back.

“And what is life without a good
flogging every now and again?” he called back.

Darius grinned as Raj galloped out front
and took the lead. Darius then caught up and took the lead himself.

“I’ll race you!” Raj called out.

“Race me to where!?” Darius replied.

Raj laughed. “Who cares! Nowhere! As
long as I am first!”

Raj laughed and took the lead, but then Darius
caught up to him. The two raced, each alternately taking the lead, back and
forth, competing with each other, each gaining the edge then losing it. They
stood on the saddles as they rode, wearing broad smiles, the wind blowing in their
faces. Darius relished the feel of the shade; if nothing else, it felt so good be
out of the sun, and it felt ten degrees cooler here in the forest.

They turned a bend, and Darius spotted,
at the end of the path, a wall of dangling red vines. It demarcated the forbidden
zone.

Darius suddenly got nervous, knowing
they had reached the limit to where they could go. No one crossed the
vines—that was Empire territory. The only slaves allowed outside were the
women, and only in their labor. If they crossed as men, they’d be killed on the
spot.

“The vines!” Darius called to Raj. “We
must turn back!”

Raj shook his head.

“Let us ride. As boys. As warriors. As
men,” he called out.

Raj turned to him, and added: “Unless,
of course, you are afraid.”

Raj did not wait for a response, but screamed,
kicked his beast, and rode faster, heading right for the red wall of vines. Darius,
his heart pounding, his face flush from the indignity, felt that Raj was going
too far. Yet at the same time, he could not turn around. Not after being
challenged.

Darius kicked his horse and caught up to
Raj, and Raj grinned to see him at his side.

“You are growing on me,” Raj said. “I
see you are as stupid as I!”

They both ducked their heads and,
together, they rode through the wall of vines.

As they burst through to the other side,
Darius looked around, shocked. It was his first time on this side of the Alluvian
Forest, and here everything was different. The trees changed color, from green
to red, and he saw that the path, in the distance, led out to a clearing demarcated
by a thick canopy of red trees. He looked up and saw swinging vines overhead, and
saw strange animals swinging from branches; their exotic shrieks pierced the
air.

They rode until they reached the very
edge of the Alluvian, and they both stopped, breathing hard, their zertas
winded, too, and sat there, side-by-side, looking out at the clearing.

Darius saw before him a dozen women from
his village, working the wells, each pumping the long iron rods, filling water
for pails. The women all labored hard, with humility, heads down, hands raw
from the pumping.

On the outskirts of the clearing stood
several Empire soldiers, standing guard.

“See anyone you like?” Raj asked, with a
mischievous smile.

Darius shook his head, his anxiety
increasing at the sight of the guards.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Darius said. “We
should turn back. We have gone far enough. Too far. This is more than a game
now.”

Raj looked out, taking in all the girls,
undeterred.

“I like the one with the long hair. In
the back. Wearing the white dress.”

Darius looked over the women, realizing
Raj was not going to listen to him. He was not in the mood for this. And what
bothered him even more was that he was shy around girls. And this was hardly
the place or the time.

But as Darius looked them over, despite
himself, there was one girl that riveted him. She had just turned from the
well, and as she did, he caught a glimpse of her face, and his heart stopped.
She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. She was tall, well-built,
looked to be about his age, with short, black hair, almond skin, and light
yellow eyes. Her features were not that delicate, with a strong jaw and chin, and
broad shoulders and a stocky build, but there was something about her—the shape
of her eyes, the curve of her hips, the way she stood so tall, so proud—a
certain dignity to her—that completely mesmerized Darius.

“Who is that?” Darius whispered to Raj. “That
girl there. With the yellow dress.”

“
Her?
” Raj asked disdainfully. “Why
do you settle on her? She’s not as pretty as the others.”

Darius flushed, embarrassed.

“She is to me,” he said indignantly.

Raj shrugged.

“I believe her name is Loti. My parents
exchange goods with hers. She lives on the far side of the village, behind the
cave mounds. She rarely comes to town. She comes from a family of warriors.
Strong-willed. Not an easy girl to tame. Why don’t you choose someone easier,
prettier?”

Suddenly, a zerta charged into the
clearing from the opposite side, and all the girls stopped what they were doing.
Darius looked over and saw an Empire officer, wearing a uniform different than
the others, ride in and come to a stop in the clearing. He slowly surveyed all
the women, and they all looked back up at him with fear. All except Loti, who
remained proud, expressionless.

The officer breathed hard and looked
around as if he were looking for a snack, something to satisfy his urges. His roving
eyes finally stopped on Loti.

Loti, balancing two pails of water over
her shoulder, averted her eyes, looking away, clearly hoping he did not settle
on her.

But the officer grinned an evil grin,
showing his yellow fangs, his red eyes flashing as he dismounted and, spurs
jingling, the dust rising beneath him, strutted directly for Loti.

He stared down at her, and she finally looked
back at him, defiant.

“What, no smile for me?” he asked. “Have
you slaves not learned to please your masters when they address you?”

Loti grimaced.

“I’m not your slave,” she replied, “and
you’re not my master. You are a heathen. It doesn’t matter how many slaves you trap
beneath you—it will never change what you are.”

The officer stared back at her, mouth
agape, shocked. Clearly, he had never been spoken to that way before. Darius
was shocked, too, and in awe at her courage.

The officer reached back and backhanded
her across the face, and the sound shattered the silence as it tore through the
clearing. Loti cried out and stumbled backwards.

As Darius watched, he had involuntary
reaction; he could not restrain himself. Something shifted within him, and he
suddenly lunged forward, to stop the officer.

Darius felt a strong hand on his chest, and
he looked over to seek Raj next to him, holding him back, looking nervous and
serious for the first time that day.

“Don’t do it,” he said. “Do you hear me?
You’ll get us killed. All of us. The girl, too.”

He squeezed Darius’s shirt hard, and Darius’s
muscles tensed up in his grip, and Darius stayed there, reluctantly, before
conceding. Darius decided to wait and watch, willing to see what happened next
before he took any action.

The officer turned and walked to his
zerta, and Darius relaxed, assuming he was about to mount it and leave. But
instead, he reached to his saddle and pulled out a long shining dagger with a
copper hilt, and held it up glistening in the sun, grinning cruelly at Loti as
he began to walk back toward her.

“Now you’ll learn what it means to be a
slave,” he said.

Loti’s eyes widened in defiance as she
dropped the pails of water from her shoulder and faced him. To her credit, she
did not back away, but continued to stare at him defiantly. Who was this girl, Darius
wondered? How could she have such a strong spirit?

“You can kill me,” Loti said, “but you
will never claim my soul. My brothers and all the souls of my ancestors will
avenge me.”

The officer grimaced and, raising his
dagger, rushed toward her.

Darius had to act; he knew he could not
wait another moment. He shook of Raj’s grasp, and as he did, he began to feel a
power well up within him, a power he had felt but a few times in his life. It
was like a heat, like a prickling sensation, taking over him, slowly climbing
up his skin. He did not understand what it was—but right now, he did not wish
to. He only wished to embrace it, to wield it.

Darius examined the clearing, and as he
did, the world slowed; he was able to see every blade of grass, to hear every
sound, every chirping of every insect; he felt almost as if he were able to
slow time. He entered a strange dimension, where he was not really here, caught
in some gap in the fabric of the universe.

His eyes focused on a small red scorpion
that he had not seen before, and, using the power within him, Darius pointed a
finger toward it. As he did, the scorpion suddenly lifted out of the grass and
went flying across the clearing. It lodged itself onto the officer’s calf. It
was not a lethal scorpion, but it would suffice to hurt him badly—and
incapacitate him for a while.

The officer, just feet away from Loti,
suddenly screamed out and dropped to his knees, clutching the back of his calf.

“Help!” he shrieked, his voice cracking.

The Empire guards quickly ran to him,
grabbing his arms, trying to drag him to his feet.

“My leg!” he shrieked.

One of the guards reached down with his
dagger and sliced the scorpion from his leg, and the officer’s shrieks filled
the clearing.