Rider's Resolve (The Rider's Revenge Trilogy Book 3) Read online

  Still.

  “You should do more for us. What’s the point in being a god if you can’t protect your people?”

  “Would you honestly want to live in a world where we made all of your choices for you? Where there was no challenge and you always won every time?”

  She crossed her arms and shrugged slightly. “I don’t know. Maybe. Would my parents and Badru still be alive in that world?” She glared at him.

  He barked a short laugh. “Who can say? Everyone dies eventually.”

  “But not so young!”

  “Some do. Some must.”

  “So now you’re saying my parents and Badru had to die? For what?” She glared at him, willing him to try to explain that to her.

  He waved his hand in dismissal. “That’s not why I’m here. You made a vow. It’s time you honored it instead of playing with this new tribe of yours.”

  K’lrsa tensed. “I already killed the man who killed my father. K’var.”

  “But that isn’t all you swore to do. You also swore to destroy the Toreem Daliphate.” His eyes burned like twin bonfires.

  She shook her head, dismissing him. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. But I was naïve back then. I didn’t know what I was saying. And are you sure that’s what I promised? Maybe you heard me wrong.”

  He waved his hand and an image appeared of her standing over her father's body. She wiped the last of the tears from her cheeks and then sliced her palm with the knife she’d just used to kill him, letting her blood drip on to his body and the desert sands below it.

  So young and confident.

  So foolishly stupid.

  The girl in the vision held her head high and shouted into the night, "I, K'lrsa dan V'na of the White Horse Tribe do swear in the name of the Great Father, Bringer of Light, Bringer of Life, Scourge, and Destroyer, and on my father's everlasting soul, that I will avenge him. I will kill the man responsible for his death and I will destroy the Toreem Daliphate. This I swear, by my own blood. I forsake all other vows. I forsake all other ties."

  The image faded.

  “See? You vowed to destroy the Toreem Daliphate. No confusion there.”

  K’lrsa shook her head. “I can’t do it. It’s impossible.”

  “But you made a vow.”

  She turned away from him. “I can’t do it. The tribes need me. And so does M’lara.”

  “Too bad.” He stepped closer, menacing in his intensity. “When you swore that vow, you forsook all other ties.”

  She flinched, but didn’t back down and didn’t step away. “I was young and stupid. I didn’t know what I was doing then.”

  “Nonetheless. The vow was made.”

  “Find someone else.” K’lrsa moved away from him. “I’m done with the Daliphana. I won’t go back there. I can’t.” She snorted. “Plus, I’m a woman. I wouldn’t even make it to Crossroads before someone killed or enslaved me.”

  “You made it there once before. And that was before you had the necklace or knew Fallion’s true nature.”

  It was also before she’d known what she was up against. The bravery of the ignorant couldn’t be underestimated.

  She turned to him, studying the hard, unforgiving lines of his face. “What if I don’t do it? Not like there’s anything left for you to take from me.”

  Even as she said the words, her mind flashed to Fallion. And to M’lara. And F’lia. And Vedhe. And D’lan. She’d lost so much, but she still had too much left to lose.

  She raised her chin. Just because that was true, didn’t mean she had to let him see it. She suspected the gods had no actual power in the real world. They could bluster and threaten all they wanted while she was asleep, but they couldn’t actually touch her or the ones she loved in the real world.

  Father Sun’s smile was cruel as he stared at her with eyes of fire. “Didn’t you hear the words of your vow? You not only swore to me, you swore on your father’s everlasting soul.”

  “You can’t touch him. He’s already moved on to the Promised Plains.”

  “No. He hasn’t.”

  “But…He told me…He said he wouldn’t be there in the Hidden City if I went back. He said he was going to leave with my mom and go to the Promised Plains.”

  Father Sun’s smile broadened. “That may be what he wanted to do, but that’s not what happened.”

  She shook her head, trying to deny his words. “What about my mother? Did she move on to the Promised Plains?”

  “No. She stayed with your father. They’re both trapped until you keep your word. For now at least.” He crossed his arms, the muscles rippling as he shrugged slightly. “I can’t promise she’ll stay with him, season after season, year after year while they both slowly waste away into nothingness. How much does she love him? Enough to give away her chance at the next life?”

  “Why are you doing this to him? He never did anything to you!”

  “No. He didn’t.” He leaned closer, his eyes flaring. “He’s a victim of his daughter’s foolish and rash vow. And now you hold his fate in your hands. And your mother’s too, it would seem.” He stepped back, the cruel smile twisting his lips once more. “Choose wisely, K’lrsa dan V’na of the White Horse Tribe. Your parents’ souls rest on your decision.”

  He held her gaze for a long moment, and then he was gone and she once more stood alone in the quiet peace of a moonlit desert night.

  “I hate you!” K’lrsa screamed, but there was no one there to hear it.

  Chapter 5

  K’lrsa spent the next morning listening to N’la and Murin yell back and forth, both demanding the other be punished. She wanted to grab them both and smack them upside the head a few times, but she couldn’t. She was a responsible leader now, after all.

  Murin tried to call others forward to prove how freely N’la had shared herself around camp, but K’lrsa shut that down immediately. “It doesn’t matter what she’s done with anyone else, Murin. It matters what she did or didn’t want to do with you. And I think we’ve well established at this point that the answer to that question is ‘absolutely nothing.’” She turned to Luden. “Time to make a decision.”

  Luden frowned, but he didn’t argue with her. Instead he stood to address the rest of the tribe who had watched the whole time with keen interest. As he paced back and forth, making eye contact and smiling at different people in the crowd, she hated him for how he always ingratiated himself with others like that. But the crowd loved it. They loved him. They hung on his every word.

  He stopped in the middle of the cleared space, halfway between Murin and N’la. “I understand that what Murin did is a violation of tribal rules. And I know that the usual punishment for an act such as this would be to castrate him and send him into the desert to die. But surely that’s too extreme a punishment for what was clearly a misunderstanding.”

  Most of the newcomers in the crowd nodded, speaking quietly with one another.

  A woman who’d been part of the Desert Storm Tribe rolled her eyes while another woman glared at Murin, her hand resting on her knife.

  “Misunderstanding?” N’la lunged at Luden, but the two Riders guarding her caught her by the arms and pulled her away from him.

  Luden turned to face her, completely calm. “Yes. A misunderstanding. He misread you.”

  “Misread me? When? When I refused to talk to him? Or when I moved after he sat too close to me? Or…”

  “Hush, N’la. It’s the Council’s turn to speak now.”

  N’la’s face flashed red with rage and she fought to free herself.

  K’lrsa held up a hand to stop her from speaking further. Let Luden say his piece. There’d be time to address his comments after.

  N’la looked ready to kill, but she kept silent.

  Luden nodded and turned back to the crowd. “As I was saying…This was a simple misunderstanding. We need to make allowances for these differences between our peoples as we all learn to live together.”

  “Allowances? Differences? Is
that what you call this?” N’la demanded.

  “Yes.” He didn’t even turn to look at her, his attention focused on the crowd. “If Murin had forced N’la to have sex against her will, then I agree that the traditional punishment of the tribes would be suitable.”

  A few of the newcomers in the crowd muttered to one another at that, clearly disagreeing, but no one argued with him. Didn’t they understand that rape was as bad as murder? Perhaps worse? It killed a part of the victim but left them alive to relive their pain over and over again for the rest of their lives. At least murder was quick.

  Luden continued, “But since Murin didn’t rape her. Since he only tried to kiss her, the Council believes a lesser punishment is warranted here.”

  “The Council believes?” K’lrsa stepped forward, glaring between him and the other Council members. “Funny. I don’t recall voting on this. Or even discussing it.”

  He waved her away. “Not now, K’lrsa.”

  “Not now? Then when? Because last time I checked, I am a member of this Council and I have a right to an opinion. And my opinion,” she continued as he opened his mouth to interrupt her, “is that Murin is a problem and will do this again. If not with N’la then with another woman. One less able to resist him. We can’t have that in this tribe. And we can’t let others think that what he did is acceptable in any way.”

  “So you’d kill him? For a kiss?”

  “Yes, I’d kill him. But not for a kiss. For an attitude and belief system that are incompatible with the way we live.”

  He turned away, dismissing her. “Times are changing, you need to adapt.”

  “No. Not on this I won’t. I will not allow the tribes to treat women the way you do in the Daliphana. It will not happen.” She gripped the necklace at her throat, the metal curves digging into her flesh.

  He moved closer, reminding her of Father Sun when he’d towered over her in the moon dream. “And who are you to decide this? Do you now speak for the entire Council? Or the entire tribe? Did you lie to us when you said we’d be equal members of this tribe? When you allowed us to elect leaders to serve alongside you?”

  The air rumbled with the approval of his men as he glared down at her. She glared back, trembling in anger, hating this war of words that she knew she couldn’t win.

  She longed to just punch him, but she couldn’t. If she did, they’d never listen to her again. “You’re a member of the Council, Luden. One of six. You voiced your opinion. I voiced mine. Anyone else wants to voice theirs, they can. And then we vote.”

  “Fine.” He turned to the others. “Anyone else have anything to say?”

  The other members of the Council were silent.

  “Good. All in favor of whipping Murin three times as punishment for what he did, raise your hands.”

  He and the other two newcomers on the Council raised their hands. Luden frowned at B’lar for a long moment, but then turned back to her. “So we have three votes for whipping Murin. And your alternative?”

  “All in favor of expelling Murin from the tribe and sending him back to the Daliphana, raise your hand.”

  F’lia and B’lar raised their hands.

  K’lrsa tried to hide how relieved she was to see that they’d both chosen to side with her rather than abstain.

  Luden narrowed his eyes. “A tie. So now what? What do your rules say happens now?”

  She looked around. “Normally, we’d debate until we reach a solution we can all agree to. But I’ll tell you now, suggesting that we send him back to the Daliphana was my compromise. If I had it my way, he’d be treated like any other member of the tribes.”

  Luden snorted and turned his attention on B’lar. “You voted with the women. Do you honestly believe that banishment is a suitable punishment for an unwanted kiss?”

  F’lia touched K’lrsa’s arm and leaned close. “Maybe we should let it go this time. Is N’la really worth all of this?”

  “We have rules, F’lia. We need to enforce them. No matter who is involved.”

  “And next time we can. But for now…” She leaned back. “Luden, I’d like to change my vote. I think whipping Murin three times should be sufficient. You’re right. He is new to the tribes and our ways. And N’la can confuse some men. And it was just a kiss.”

  Fury coursed through her. K’lrsa gripped the necklace, fighting with every ounce of will she had not to send Murin, Luden, and F’lia all to the middle of the desert. Good bye and good riddance.

  But she’d agreed to abide by what the Council decided. And if she truly believed that the rules that had governed the tribes for hundreds of years were what had kept them together and alive, then she had to support the decision, no matter her own personal feelings about it.

  She glared at Murin. “Fine. But if he ever does it again, I swear, on all of our gods, that I’ll send him back to the Daliphana myself. In pieces.”

  She stormed off, pushing her way through the crowd, not caring what anyone thought of what she’d said. Because she would. And damn the consequences.

  Chapter 6

  That night, as she rode Fallion away from camp, she pointed him towards the place where the soldiers had camped. It was just this side of the barren lands—that vast swath of deadness that separated the Daliphana from the tribes—near the one spot where it was narrow enough for a horse to cross in a single day. (No one wanted to sleep in the barren lands if they could avoid it, although K’lrsa had twice now.)

  It was a good spot for a camp, with a small stream running nearby and the shelter of a series of small hills, but K’lrsa would’ve never camped so close to such destruction if she could help it.

  The tribe had already taken the soldier’s horses and tents back to their own camp—resources in the tribes were too precious to waste—so she expected the area to be empty.

  It wasn’t.

  She watched in silence as a small group of soldiers set up camp, their tents arranged in a ring around a huddled, miserable group of slaves, their ankles chained together by heavy iron links, their clothes so threadbare they barely covered each emaciated man’s torso.

  She shuddered as she counted fifteen soldiers and ten slaves. Seemed Aran wasn’t done testing them.

  And now they had another choice to make: Send all of them back like they had the last group of soldiers, or just send back the soldiers and rescue the slaves who hadn’t chosen this fate and didn’t deserve to die such a horrible death.

  They couldn’t keep the slaves. The men were clearly in no shape to contribute to the tribe. And resources were stretched thin enough as is. If they didn’t move on soon, they’d have nothing left to eat.

  And even if they could feed that many more…

  Those men would tip the balance over to Luden. Chances were they’d side with him rather than some fool girl who had almost reached her seventeenth summer.

  The tribe would never recover.

  If she’d thought today was bad, what would happen when Luden no longer had to pretend to find a compromise?

  Before she could think too closely about what she was doing, she grabbed the necklace and willed the men back to Crossroads.

  All of them. Soldiers and slaves.

  In the morning she’d convince Luden it was time to move on. If she was lucky no one would see the camp to know what she’d done.

  She reined Fallion away and galloped into the night, wishing she could keep going until she’d left all of it behind, but she had to be back as soon as the sun rose.

  She managed to avoid the gods in her dreams by waking as soon as she found herself in the land of the moon dream, but it meant she was cranky and stiff the next morning when she finally rode back to camp.

  “There you are.” Luden strode towards her, men and women stepping out of his way with quiet respect.

  She hated him for that—for the arrogance of assuming others would make way for him and the fact that they all did.

  “What’s wrong?” She slid from Fallion’s back, looking around f
or M’lara. And F’lia. Were they alright? Had something happened with the baby? Or N’la and Murin, again?

  He loomed over her. “There was an encampment at the edge of the barren lands. Right where we saw the other one. We found it this morning. It was empty.”

  She struggled to keep the small twinge of guilt she felt from showing on her face. “And?”

  “Are you really going to make me ask the question? Honestly, K’lrsa. Sometimes you act like a child.”

  She raised her chin and glared at him. “Fine. Yes, there was another encampment. Just like the first one. And I sent them back just like the Council ordered me to do last time.”

  “You’re lying. This one wasn’t just like the last one.”

  She narrowed her eyes. He’d trapped her. Deliberately. “Says who?”

  She glanced around at the small group of people who’d crept closer to listen to their argument.

  “Delin saw the camp last night. He said it included slaves.”

  “Yes. And? So? They were still invaders that we couldn’t afford to feed.”

  He stepped closer. It took all of her strength not to shrink back from the anger in his eyes. “Didn’t you wonder who they might be?” he hissed. “Delin recognized one of them. It was my brother.”

  “What?”

  She shivered. If one of the slaves was Luden’s brother then chances were all of the slaves had been related to the newcomers somehow. She licked her lips, glancing around at the others who were trying to hear their conversation. “Does anyone else know?”

  He looked at her with such contempt, she felt herself shrinking before him. “No. And they won’t. Delin brought the news straight to me and we rode out together to see them. But, of course, they were already gone.”

  She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Luden. I didn’t know.”

  “Would you have cared if you had known?”

  She opened her mouth to say yes, but then closed it again. Sighing, she admitted, “I don’t know. I would’ve cared, but…I would’ve probably done the same thing. They were in bad shape. And we can’t afford to feed anyone who can’t contribute to the tribe right now.”