Bastial Frenzy (The Rhythm of Rivalry: Book 4) (5 page)

Zeti couldn’t comprehend the feeling. She’d begun to respect Doe in ways she never thought possible. He was the hardest working and strongest creature she’d ever come across. He was her leader—everyone’s leader—and he deserved to be.
He’s going to bring us to the Slugari we crave.
Zeti was confident.
How can Suba not care about that?

Suba unfolded a map of Ovira. “We’re going to be here, deep in Merejic.” She pointed to the northwestern edge of the continent. “They say there’s an abandoned Elven village there with buildings that are structurally superior to our huts, and there are plenty of animals to hunt.”

“I shouldn’t know where you’re going. Why are you telling me this?”

“In case you ever change your mind. Just don’t tell anyone we spoke. It’s best you pretend I never came to your hut.” Suba kissed Zeti on the forehead. “Goodbye. I must be going.”

“All of you are leaving tonight?”

“Yes, imminently.” Suba turned and parted the cloth shielding of the hut. She glanced back over her shoulder, waiting for Zeti, a pleading look in her yellow eyes.

“I can’t,” Zeti said.

Suba nodded. Then she was gone.

Zeti rested on her bed, distraught as she realized she wouldn’t be sleeping much that night.

Keenu was the only Krepp left that mattered to her. For the first time, she seriously considered asking him to be her
seshar
. She’d come to believe he was trying to help her when he’d offered to kill Paramar. She trusted him now. He was ten years her elder, but that wasn’t uncommon.

Her biggest issue was that his pointed face was shaped somewhat like Zoke’s. It was an uncomfortable thought, though she didn’t know why.

Perhaps because Zoke and I are more likely to fight against each other than be part of the same tribe again, and Keenu’s likeliness to brother to me only reminds me of this.

She felt the tears coming when she thought of Grayol next. The image haunted her daily, her dead friend’s spiraling body slapping against the stone of the crumbling Tenred castle after the explosion.

At least she didn’t miss her father, Ruskir. Never had an argument felt so healthy, so relieving. She regretted nothing she’d said or done to him. She only wished it had happened sooner.

The next morning, everyone was talking about the “traitors” who’d abandoned the army during the night. Zeti had never seen so much spit in one day, though she wondered how many of the spiteful comments were exaggerated or even completely feigned. She had no idea Suba was so unhappy in the encampment. There had to be others.

In the afternoon, while Zeti was carrying two sacks of oats over to feed the Dajriks, Keenu approached her. He hollered at a nearby Krepp to help her.

“I don’t need it,” Zeti said.

Keenu smiled. “I can tell you don’t, but Doe wants to see us right now. I’m sure it’s about what happened last night.”

Hot fear filled Zeti’s chest. Would Doe ask her what she knew about those who’d left? If he found out she was lying…Zeti had a startling realization.
I’m a traitor for not revealing their location, for not letting Doe know they planned to abandon us.
I could die for this.

Keenu noticed her worry. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Did someone close to you leave?”

“I haven’t had a chance to check.” Luckily, Zeti had practiced lying to her father for many years. She knew she was good at it.

Then Zeti realized she wasn’t following Keenu toward Doe’s quarters. “Where are we going?”

“He wants us to meet him at the western wall.”

This, Zeti liked even less. The Slugari was so large, it was rare to find him moving about the encampment. He must have a strong reason to be at the wall.

At least Vithos isn’t here to tell if I’m lying
. Still, her heart was racing.

There was an audience of Krepps huddled near the wall. Doe spoke in a hushed tone to a few who were ranked high in the army.

“What’s going on?” Zeti asked someone standing nearby.

“It looks like he’s questioning many Krepps’ loyalty.”

As Zeti and Keenu maneuvered through the crowd, she saw dead bodies scattered throughout. She recognized some of them as wall guards. In a panic, she looked for Suba, hoping not to find her. She didn’t get a chance to conclude her search before Doe called her over and pointed at the wall.

“Stand there with your back against it,” he ordered.

She obeyed, careful not to say a word until asked a question.

“When did you find out that thousands of Krepps had abandoned the army, making themselves traitors?”

Not only was Doe waiting for her answer, every nearby Krepp watched. There were hundreds of them in view. For a moment, she couldn’t speak. An onslaught of terror closed her throat, producing only one thought.
I’m not prepared for this.

“Answer me!”

Zeti thought quickly. When would she have found out if Suba hadn’t told her?

“This morning,” she answered. “I heard Krepps talking about it.”

Doe’s silence made her second-guess her ability to lie. Could he tell her words weren’t true? She wondered how difficult it would be to jump over the wall and escape without being killed.

Impossible,
she realized.

“Did you have any knowledge of the plan before they left?” Doe asked.

“No. I didn’t know.”

Someone in the crowd blurted, “She’s lying!”

Zeti recognized the male Krepp. He’d wanted to be her
seshar
, but she’d denied him. He’d pestered her, and eventually she’d insulted him in front of his friends.

“He’s just saying that because he’s angry I embarrassed him.”

“Quiet, both of you,” Doe said.

Zeti was surprised her leader wasn’t angrier. But then she saw how sluggish his movements were as he turned to check on the Krepp in the crowd who’d spoken.
He’s exhausted.
Zeti felt pity.

“You don’t need to worry about my loyalty, Doe,” she risked saying without being asked. “I’m no traitor. I want Slugari meat as badly as any other Krepp, and I believe the Humans in Kyrro deserve to die. They killed a close friend to me.
Vantikar
.”

Although the word usually meant taking revenge on those who’d wronged you, it also could mean avenging the death of a friend or family member.

“See.” Doe turned to the high-ranking Krepps behind him, nearly all of them male. “This is how a Krepp of rank should speak.”

Zeti always assumed they were jealous of the favoritism she received from Doe, and the looks on their faces proved it.

“Keenu, you’re next.” Doe pointed his black claw at the wall.

Doe asked him the same questions. Keenu answered calmly, unworried.

It wasn’t long before Doe was satisfied. He turned to his audience. “Even speaking about leaving now is punishable by death. If a Krepp comes to you and admits he’s planning to leave, you must report this or you’ll be punished severely. Tell this to every Krepp you see. Now get back to your tasks.”

The hundreds of Krepps dispersed. The encampment was even more bare than usual, for those that had gone with Haemon hadn’t returned yet.

Maybe the cowards have realized the kind of welcome that awaits them on their return.
They would be mocked, though Haemon would hear none of it. Zeti found herself wondering if Doe would mock Haemon when they were alone. But her leaders didn’t tease, she realized. They scolded, yelled, ordered, but never belittled.

And they’re never happy,
Zeti realized.
Never content.

She wondered what Doe would be like once they finally took over the Slugari colony. Would he enjoy the victory? Was he even capable?

She found his determination inspiring. Half of Zeti’s mouth curled up in a grin when Doe called her to speak with him and Keenu.

“I’m sending you both to Tenred with a thousand Krepps. Once you get there, speak with Nebre. Get a sense of how likely those Humans are to fight beside us when we invade Kyrro again. If Kyrro doesn’t attack Tenred a week after you get there, bring the Krepps back here.”

“I’ll do that,” Keenu said. “But does this mean I’ll miss marching to Kyrro?”

“No. We’ll wait for your return. There’s still more work to be done with the Dajriks’ weapons, and we need to find out what went wrong with the army Haemon led. We might need to develop a counter to whatever strategy or weapon the Humans in Kyrro used to defeat them.”

“When should we leave?” Keenu asked.

“I’ll have a thousand Krepps ready by tomorrow morning.”

Chapter 4:

EFFIE

When Effie returned from breakfast, she was surprised to find Steffen’s door still shut, even after Cleve and Reela left on his horse.

He’s still sleeping? He’s going to miss breakfast.

Because all the students were up late into the night clearing the aftermath of the battle, breakfast hours were extended. But Steffen had been in his room for hours longer than any normal person needed to sleep.

He’d been distant the night before. While Cleve had shared some of his adventures in Greenedge and gotten to know Zoke and Vithos, everyone—despite their exhaustion—was in good spirits. Except Steffen.

Effie knew it was because of Marratrice’s death, though she didn’t know if he was sad or if it was the trauma of seeing her dead body. Cleve told Effie that he’d had to practically drag Steffen away from her.

Effie knocked on his door. “Steffen, you really should get up and eat.”

“I’m naked.”

“Well, then get dressed and come out.”

“Fine.” She heard rustling.

“I know it must be hard to lose someone close to you.”

“You can come in.”

Effie opened the door to find him sitting slouched on his bed.

“I don’t feel like eating,” he said.

“Come on, I’ll walk with you.” Effie was eager to visit Alex, but Steffen looked like he needed company.

He got to his feet and shuffled past her.

Once they were outside, he said, “Haven’t you already eaten?”

“Yes, but that’s fine.”

“I see. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They walked in silence, Steffen looking around as if it was the first time he’d been in the Academy.

“It feels so different now,” he said in a subdued tone. “Just last night, there were bodies everywhere.”

“This might not be the best time, but I think it’s important you realize this war isn’t over—”

“I know,” Steffen interrupted.

Effie continued. “There’s going to be a lot more death. Rather than grieve those we lose, it’s best we enjoy the company of those closest to us who are still alive. Reela and I are still here, and I’m sure Gabby is safe. I expect she’ll visit soon, along with your mother.”

“You’re right.”

Although Steffen was agreeing, it was hard to know if her words were making a difference. She decided not to press the matter. Some feelings took more than words to resolve.

“The worst part about this is that I’m angry at the King, not the Krepps,” Steffen said to Effie’s surprise. It was rare to see him even frustrated. He glanced over his shoulder before continuing. “Marratrice told me she didn’t belong in a war, and now I agree. There’s probably many at the Academy who shouldn’t be on the battlefield, but just because they signed the admission contract, they’re forced to fight. And to die. She shouldn’t have been required to fight.”

“You might be right, but what’s the alternative? We can’t allow people to claim they aren’t suited for battle, giving them a choice about whether they’ll fight. Too many would’ve fled at the sight of the Krepps.”

Steffen chewed on his cheek. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Direct that anger toward our enemies. No one would need to die if Tenred had signed the treaty. And the Krepps—I can’t believe they would go to war against us just to get to the Slugari. They’re monsters.”

Steffen nodded.

By the time they were done eating, Effie had made him smile a few times.

He admitted that the food helped him feel better. “But there’s guilt every time I feel anything but grief, as if that’s all I should be feeling.”

“What’s there to be guilty about?”

“That I’m alive, enjoying myself.”

“There’s no reason to feel guilty about that. I’m sure Marratrice would rather you be happy than depressed. Wouldn’t you if the reverse had happened?”

“Well, I’d like her and you to mourn at least a little bit.”

Effie could tell he wasn’t joking. In fact, the statement was so brutally honest she had to laugh.

She put her hand on his shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, Steffen. We would.”

The Redfield bell chimed. As usual, Effie jumped, gritted her teeth, and let out a flood of curses by the time the second chime sounded.