The Redwood Rebel (The Redwood War Book 1) (22 page)

‘Wake me at dusk,’ he yawned, muscles heavy and eyes stinging. ‘I should have rested enough by then for the spell to work.’

It would soon be time to reawaken the dragon from his slumber.

Chapter Twenty-Two

For the first time since the unfortunate mix-up with Arun, Naomi had her mind completely to herself without having to erect powerful barriers to keep her privacy. It wasn’t as pleasant as she had expected, and she couldn’t seem to keep herself from shivering uncontrollably. She told herself it was just shock from having another consciousness taking up residence in her body, but with her teeth chattering and muscles clenched in painful spasms, she knew that wasn’t all it was. Not for the first time, she cursed the existence of the Korenian Bonding spell.

Glancing down at the still comatose Rayan, she could already tell how much better he was doing, and knew despite how awful she was feeling herself, she couldn’t honestly regret being in a position to offer assistance. There were scars from where his wounds had been, fresh and pink enough that she knew from experience how tight and uncomfortable they would be for the next few weeks, but they were no longer a threat to his life. The sheen of fever-induced perspiration was gone, and his dark skin looked healthy again. His breathing was even, as though he was simply sleeping, and she hoped he would awaken soon and in well enough condition to execute their escape.

Arun had taken her blatant disregard for his plan to come running to their rescue surprisingly well. She hoped he realised that she was being deadly serious when she told him she was leaving tonight. There was no way she was spending any longer locked up than she absolutely had to, and once she’d made sure that Rayan was capable, she was off.

Not that she was locked in here, she acknowledged, tucking her hands under her arms and rubbing briskly at her sides. The cell door was still very much open, and with the dagger tucked safely in her boot, Naomi wished Lord Rayan would wake so they could take full advantage of this opportunity. There were two guards at the bottom of the stairs, but she could take them alone if caught by surprise.

They only needed to get up to the next floor to be on ground level, and there was the old servant’s wing not too far from where they were. Even if they had staff there, what boot boy or scullery maid was going to risk their neck to stop a pair of formidable soldiers breaking out? The pay was bad, and there was likely very little loyalty for the regime that ran the country these days. Even if they hit garrison guards, what chance would they stand against herself and
Rayan Bastiaan
, of all people? Certainly it was likely that he was weakened from his wounds, but he was still the greatest swordsman in all of Ilios. Even at half his strength, his strategic knowledge was a bonus that few could boast. Naomi couldn’t think of anyone else she’d rather be attempting an escape with.

As for herself, well. She was out of practice, but not so much that she couldn’t take a few young and poorly-trained boys with swords. They had left the cell door open, for heaven’s sake. She had been trained to defend herself since she was five, and frankly, a few years in prison weren’t enough to completely erase that sort of schooling. Even despite the chill that was seeping into her bones and the hollow void that seemed to be yawning in her chest, she could again see how the Bond had healed her malnourished body.

Oh, she had always been small, much to the disappointment of her father, and later to her own advantage as opponent after opponent underestimated her. Still, she felt almost back to her regular size. She could even see a little muscle definition in her arms, making her smile involuntarily. They wouldn’t have much trouble, not unless they ran into the harpies, or if she was beaten near to death the way she had been when her imprisonment in Chloris had begun.

She shook harder and tried to clench down on the shuddering of her body. There was no point in thinking about that. This wasn’t the same situation. She had been at a massive disadvantage then, heartbroken at the loss of her family, her mother’s death still tormenting her, the betrayal of her cousin shocking her beyond reason, stripped of her magic… She had been left as nothing but an empty husk, the fight well and truly beaten out of her as she waited to die.

Deep in her thoughts and huddled against the cold that seemed to come from inside herself, Naomi didn’t notice the scuff of boots on the stone stairs until they were approaching the cell. Coming immediately to attention, she spared another glance at the sleeping Commander and forced herself up to her feet. She felt a little unbalanced, but determinedly planted her feet and stood between the open cell door and Lord Rayan.

‘My Lady,’ said the guard Christophe, stopping just inside the door and bowing. He had a large basket of the supplies she had requested, but as he placed it down on the floor, his eyes wondered over to the now visibly healed Lord Rayan. Jaw dropping, he looked both surprised and pleased. ‘He’s well! But how?’

His reaction wasn’t what she’d expected, but that didn’t mean she trusted him. Perhaps he was just grateful not to have Lord Rayan’s death on his conscience. She certainly wasn’t about to admit she had a mental link to the man they were all looking for.

The young guard looked back up at her, but she kept her face perfectly blank. ‘Magic.’

‘There’s a blocking spell on the cells here,’ he told her, apparently impressed. ‘Your magic must be strong to be able to bypass it!’

Naomi realised she already knew that bit of information, and was herself mildly impressed that the Bond had worked under such pressure. ‘Well I wasn’t entirely sure I could do it.’

‘Which is why you needed the supplies,’ he nodded understandingly. ‘I’d always heard stories of how strong your magic was, My Lady. I’m glad you could help your friend, and I’m… I’m sorry this happened. I’m sorry we’ve shamed you and the Redwood crest.’

‘Wait,’ she looked back at Christophe and frowned. ‘You know who I am?’

‘Not right away,’ he admitted. ‘The man called you Lady Naomi, and then I saw you for who you really were. I saw you restored to us through the veil of death, and knew that tyrant who calls herself Queen was not long for this world.’

‘Hush!’ Holding her hands up, she looked warily behind him. ‘Don’t you know better than to speak treason?’

‘It’s not treason. We’re all loyal to you, Your Grace, and those who might not be are being closely watched,’ he shrugged. ‘We plan to get you safely away from here as soon as possible. We have a safe house to shield you and your friend in until he’s healed fully.’

Naomi watched his face and found nothing but sincerity. She still had no reason to trust him, of course, but there was something so sincere in his foolishness.

‘I can’t let you be involved,’ she told him honestly. ‘You say you’re loyal, but what of your commanding officers? I don’t imagine Cygnus is foolish enough to leave a big Garrison like Pearpetal in the hands of people who may or may not have rebel sympathies.’

‘We can overpower them!’ Christophe spoke urgently, hands clenched by his sides. It was hard not to smile at his insistence. She had been like that, once.

‘Can you?’ she asked. ‘How many comrades do you have? More importantly, how many can you completely trust?’

‘I trust every one of them!’

‘Then more fool you, lad.’ Christophe looked scandalised at this, and Naomi heard Master Gerrard in her voice as she spoke the hard truth. ‘I trusted my cousin, and now she sits on a throne built on the bones of the rest of my family. You can never be sure, Christophe. Never.’

‘I’m sure of you. I’m sure that I have to help you, no matter what you say.’

Naomi looked him dead in the eye. ‘How do you know that I’m not working for Adrienne?’

He was clearly taken aback, but she knew it was for the best. He had no idea how she had survived, after all. No one did, really. It hadn’t even made sense to her to be kept alive when they could have so easily crushed her back then, let alone to be allowed to go free when she was clearly still a threat.

Finally he answered her, his voice a horrified whisper. ‘She killed your parents. Your family! You can’t possibly be on her side, I don’t believe it. I won’t!’

She remembered the state of her home when her mother’s desperate letter had brought her back from the Pirate Wars. The death. The burnt and bloated bodies left to rot in the open air…

‘Please, My Lady,’ Christophe pressed. ‘Let us help you.’

‘You can help me by staying away,’ she answered. ‘Some clean clothes for Lord Bastiaan would be welcomed, and maybe some food. Other than that, all I need from you and your companions is to continue with your regular duties and stay clear. I won’t be responsible for you.’

He looked like he was struggling with himself, and Naomi briefly wondered how she managed to inspire so many men with the idea that she needed to be saved by them.

‘Very well,’ he murmured at last, as though it had been a request rather than a statement on her part. ‘But I won’t allow that monster on the battlements to torture you.’

‘Thank you for your concern, young man, but I’m perfectly able to handle myself.’

He coloured slightly at her subtle reprimand and looked down at his boots. ‘I know you can, Your Grace, it’s just… We thought there was no hope. The people starve and the scum has risen to the very top. We’re taxed heavily and still trying to repair the damage from the Pirate Wars, with no hope of help from any quarter. Now you’re here, alive! The people can rise up and fight at last, with you leading us! You can finally take back the Redwood Throne and set us all free from this nightmare.’

She felt immediately guilty for overlooking what finding her alive after so long would mean to those who had lived under Adrienne’s rule. The people had suffered, were suffering still, and the news of her survival was going to breathe new life into them. She could let them have that at least. For now, though, she had no idea what she was doing, whether she was going to Koren or Tsumetai to get the help she would need, but even this little thing, knowing she was coming for them, knowing Naomi Redwood still lived and planned to fight, was hopefully going to offer some kind of solace.

‘I’m sorry,’ she told him sincerely, offering her hand and trying not to flinch as he took it up and dropped to his knees in fealty before her. ‘But I swear to you, I won’t rest until I’ve put an end to her. I would trade my very soul to save the people of Ffion if I had to, but I
will
break her. You have my word.’

Naomi felt suddenly overcome with emotions she had pressed down for so long. Her losses she had never truly grieved for, the losses of her people. She felt so empty inside, and it was painful.

‘My Lady…’ Christophe whispered, clutching her hand. ‘Please, won’t you let me help you?’

‘No. You’re needed here, you and every other loyal Ffionite who still believes in Honour and Duty. I need you ready for when I come back.’

‘You’ll go to the Tsumetese Empress?’

Naomi chewed her bottom lip distractedly as she again wondered if that was still her plan. Tristan had made a very tight case for Arun that morning, and Arun himself wasn’t really so very bad a person. Still, it grated on her that the only way to save her people wouldn’t be her own skill and hard work, but the fact that she was a woman and would carry his children for him. It reduced her to little more than a brood mare, and while she wasn’t against marriage in the long term--she even wanted children at some point--to have all her years of training as a soldier and leader completely ignored in favour of her womb, which actually wasn’t even functioning properly, made her want to scream injustice to the heavens. This wasn’t what she’d been trained for. This wasn’t what she had worked so hard for! She was more than this, surely?

Arun needed someone to have children with, the much-needed heirs that would save Koren from civil war at his death, and that in itself was understandable, but what Arun wanted was an ornament. A pretty thing to smile and nod and sparkle on his arm. He wasn’t really a shallow man; he had proven more than once that he had hidden depths, but Naomi hadn’t been raised to play that role. What was more, she never wanted to live like that. She would be escaping one prison just to spend the rest of her days in another. Granted, a beautiful prison, but a prison nonetheless.

If there was a chance the Empress could help her instead, no matter what Tristan said about it, she had to try. She had to at least try.

She looked down at Christophe, a young Ffionite, just old enough to remember the better days but too young to have been any help when Adrienne took over. The country was probably full of people like him, people desperate to be liberated, and Naomi wondered if it was selfish to waste time going to Tsumetai when she already knew Arun could help her. She had just said she would give up her soul to save them. Maybe she really should?

‘Come on, now.’ She cleared her throat and tugged on his hand. ‘You’ll be missed if you stay here too long. Get back to your duties and stay clear later tonight, you hear?’

Christophe rose to his feet and smiled. ‘As you say, Your Grace. I think tonight myself and a large group of us will be in the South Wing drinking to the health of the Queen.’

Naomi smiled back. ‘She’s going to need it.’

*

Genevieve carefully took in the bitter scent of the blackened forest ground. The powerful burst of dragon magic had drawn her to this clearing, and she had been expecting to finally find her prey not too far from this spot. It was with great disappointment that she found no trace of them anywhere, as though the forest had swallowed them up without a trace.