With arms and legs feeling like they weighed a hundred pounds each, and her eyes heavy from sleeplessness, Ceres walked to the front of the wagon and cut the reins to the horses. She took a blanket, a bag of food, and a leather flask filled with wine from atop the wagon and attached it to one of the horses.
After she had removed the scabbard from Lord Blaku’s carcass and secured her sword around her waist, she mounted the stout brown mare and steered it southward toward Delos. Just as she passed Anka, she stopped.
“You saved my life,” Anka said. “I am indebted to you.”
“You saved me first,” Ceres replied. “You owe me nothing.”
“Let me join you. Please. I have nowhere to go.”
Ceres considered Anka’s suggestion and thought it might be nice to have company on the cold, dark road back.
“Very well, Anka. We shall travel together,” Ceres said with a soft smile.
She reached out her hand and pulled Anka up behind her, Anka clinging to Ceres’s back as if for dear life. As lightning struck in the distance, the clouds rolling in again, Ceres prodded the horse to gallop. She would have time to spare before she needed to be at the palace, and she knew where she needed to go: to Rexus and her brothers.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The night remained brutally cold, the wind a roaring tempest, but that didn’t prevent Ceres from compelling the horse forward at a furious pace, determined to reach Rexus if there was enough time. For hours, rain whipped against her like shards of ice, leaving her clothes sopping wet and her fingers frozen stiff, anger toward her mother and Lord Blaku driving her.
Finally, she sighted the capital’s outer wall, and, as the rain ended, she slowed the horse to a trot. The sun crested the Alva Mountains, sparkling through dissipating clouds, and kissed the white buildings of the capital golden, and with about an hour to spare until she needed to be at the palace, Ceres hopped down from the horse and led the mare down the gently sloping gorge to the river. After she had escorted the horse to water, she unwrapped the bread and meat she had taken from Lord Blaku and portioned equal parts for Anka and herself.
She sat down on a rock and glanced at Anka, who was scarfing down the food like a ravenous animal.
“Would you like for me to take you home?” she asked Anka.
Anka paused and looked up, her eyes suddenly weary, but she said nothing.
“Perhaps now that the slaver is dead, your family – ”
“My parents sold me to save their farm. Twenty pieces of gold,” Anka said bitterly. “They are no longer my family.”
Ceres understood. Oh, how she understood. She looked toward the Alva Mountains and thought for a moment.
“I know where you might find a new home,” she said.
“Where?” Anka asked, taking a sip of the wine.
“My brothers and friends are part of the revolution.”
Anka squinted her eyes, and then she nodded.
“You are my sister now and they shall be my family and friends. I shall fight by your side and belong to the revolution, too,” she said.
Once they finished their meal, Ceres led the mare back onto the road and rode with Anka down the sloping hillside toward the capital’s main entrance – a heavily guarded drawbridge made of thick oak. Getting in line behind other travelers and merchants, Ceres and Anka rode slowly past a soldier and onto the bridge.
They rode through the cobblestone streets, past houses and wooden shacks, and down cramped alleyways. The city began to rise, the inhabitants lining up at the living wells with buckets and vessels. Children played in the streets, their laughter filling the air, reminding Ceres of much happier, much simpler times.
Beyond acres and acres of wilted, brown plants, they arrived at the bottom of the Alva Mountains. Humble houses rested on the gently sloping hill, sheltered by jutting peaks, and a waterfall cascaded down the mountainside. From the outside, the small settlement looked like any ordinary one on the outskirts of Delos, with houses, wagons, animals, and peasants working the fields. But it was nothing but a façade to keep Empire soldiers from growing suspicious. Inside every abode, a rebellion was brewing.
Ceres had been here once before: two years ago when Rexus had shown her the growing collection of weapons stored in the cave behind the waterfall.
Outside the settlement, bordering on the sea, stood the old abandoned castle: the revolution’s headquarters. Two of three towers had collapsed, and a few of the walls had been patched up with driftwood and rocks. Ceres’s destination.
They dismounted and walked down the sandy pathway, the breeze from the sea tugging on Ceres’s clothes. Once they arrived at the arching entryway, five heavily armored men wearing civilian clothes stopped them.
“My name is Ceres. I am here for Rexus, my friend, and Nesos and Sartes, my brothers,” she said, staying the horse. “This is Anka, my friend. We want to join the rebellion.”
One of the men’s eyes flared a tad, as if her name held some significance. He nodded and headed into the courtyard while the other men studied the girls with distrustful glances.
Inside the courtyard, Ceres could see men and women working in a rushed, almost frantic manner. Some were training others in sword fighting; some were fashioning armor; some were making bows and whittling sticks into arrows; and yet others were sewing clothes.
A few minutes passed, and then a few more. Were Rexus and her brothers not here? Ceres wondered. Would she have to leave without seeing them? She had to see them before she left for the palace.
All of a sudden, Rexus burst around the corner.
“Ciri!” he yelled, running toward her.
Seeing his face again, Ceres felt her strength leave her, and when he wrapped eager arms around her, she broke down and sobbed. She had been strong for so long, and now standing wrapped in his safe embrace, she finally let her weakness surface.
“I thought you were dead,” he said, stroking her back, squeezing her tight.
He rained kisses on her face, drying up her tears, and then he pressed his soft warm mouth to hers. But his lips were gone even before she had a chance to enjoy their first kiss.
“I was worried sick about you,” he said, clutching her tightly. “Sartes said he saw you outside your father’s shed, but that you vanished after that.”
“Are my brothers here?” she asked.
“Not at the moment,” Rexus replied. ‘They are on an assignment.”
Ceres felt her heart sink, but she nodded and took a step back.
“This is my friend Anka,” she said, placing a hand on her new friend’s shoulder. “She was also in the slaver wagon. She needs a place to stay.”
“In a slaver wagon? That’s why you look the way you do,” Rexus said, playful eyes running up and down her body.
Ceres socked him in the shoulder.
“You certainly don’t look any better than me,” she said with a smirk, causing Rexus to laugh.
“Please get Fausta for me,” Rexus said to a guard. He turned to Ceres, a conflicted look on his face. “Are you not staying?”
Ceres was torn. Part of her wanted to stay here with Rexus and her brothers, but a huge part of her wanted to work as a weapon-keeper.
“I have been hired by Prince Thanos as his weapon-keeper.”
Rexus’s eyes flared, and then he nodded.
An elderly woman waddled toward them with the guard, her crinkly skin white as snow, her eyes filled with years of suffering and wisdom.
“Fausta,” Rexus said. “Please see to it that Anka is given a place to stay. And make sure she has food and dry clothes.”
The old woman opened her frail arms and embraced the newcomer.
“You have a new home now, and we will see each other often,” Ceres said to Anka. “I owe you my life and I shall never forget you.”
Anka smiled softly and nodded. She gave Ceres a hug, and then she followed Fausta into the courtyard.
Taking Ceres’s hand in his, Rexus grabbed the horse’s reins and escorted them toward the stable. Once there, he let go of Ceres and led the horse to the water trough.