We•Will•Rise

Chapter Six

"You can't do it alone," Nikolai says as I rummage through Emilia's armoire for new clothes out of the ones she left behind. Luckily for me, her wardrobe consists mostly of trousers and cotton tunics unlike most of the girl's of the capital. I suppose it has to do with her being from Rimore, as the women there are seen as equals and less as objects more than they ever would be here in Endine. But whether it be a dress or even a nightslip, I'd just be glad to get out of these ruined clothes.
"I'm not asking for anyone's help again." I snap, still angry that he sided with Jerrick and the rest of them. And though I refuse to fully admit it to myself, his betrayal stings a little more after the moment we had. Or whatever you would call our earlier conversation. I could kick myself for the petty feeling.
"I figured that much, that's why I'm telling you I'll help." He crosses his arms over his chest, watching as I pull out a simple red shirt and a long black coat. I glower at him before placing the shirt and coat on the bed.
"What changed your mind?" I say, turning to face him, hands on my hips.
"Well," he surprises me by stepping closer, his hands falling to his sides. The urge to step back from his closeness is overwhelming, but I bite down on my inner lip and stand my ground. "You made such a convincing, passionate argument it was hard not to." His eyes seem to glow in the lowlight of the room as they focus on mine.
I narrow my own, "I know the passages of the castle like the back of my hand. I'll move fast, you'll have to keep up."
"That won't be a problem," he says just as Barron and Jerrick walk into the room, both of them hovering by the door awkwardly.
"What do you both want?" I ask sharply. Nikolai turns to the door as Jerrick wrings his hands and Barron gives me a crooked grin.
"Well, first to apologize," my brother begins, leaning against the doorway. "And then to tell you that you're right and we want to help."
"So you decided not to tuck tail and run then?" I raise an eyebrow, making Barron groan.
"Don't hold a grudge. Do you want us to help or not?" He says in irritation.
"What about Emilia and Isabel?" I ask, knowing there's no way she could have agreed to him risking his life to help me. Besides, as much as I hate to admit being wrong, Barron has every reason to flee the capital. He has a family to look after, a little girl that looks up to him. It wasn't right of me to expect anything more. I start to tell him that, but he speaks first.
"Emilia is taking Isabel back to Rimore," he answers, waving it off. "She isn't happy, but she knows I can't leave. This is all of our fight. Besides, I'm not going to lose the only little sister I have."
I smile at that, a genuine one, and the realization makes me smile even harder. "I'm not going anywhere, not without a fight."
"We all know that," Nikolai jokes, the corner of his lip curling up in a smirk.
"So what's the plan?" Jerrick says as they all turn to me. My smile disappears.
"Well, my original plan was to sneak into the castle from the maid quarters and grab my father's sword and dagger, but I don't believe all of us will fit."
"What about the wedding?" Jerrick asks, "The vhamphir will be here by nightfall, I can almost guarantee it." I chew on my bottom lip in thought and a silence falls over the room.
"We need more people, first of all," Nikolai says, "The Imordals are what brought them down the first time, we need the members of the Insurgence and I know exactly where I can find a few."
"Good. We have time before the wedding, you go and find them." I nod at him. "I'm going to change while you do that. The rest of us will think of a plan."
"I'll go with him," Jerrick offers, clapping Nikolai on the back as he exits the room. "Just in case he needs backup."
They both leave and Barron follows so I can change. I take off the bloodied tunic I had been wearing and slip on the clean red one, this one just as loose fitting as the last, but with a lace-up neckline. I pull the coat on after. It's a rough material, but it's loose against my waist and stops at my ankles, the perfect coat for hiding a sword. I keep on the tight-fitting trousers even though they're a bit too long, but I had fixed that by tucking the remaining fabric into my boots. I discard the scarf because of the blood on it and the plausible fear of it being used to choke me. Father always told me anything can be made into a weapon, even all the way down to clothing.
I think of him now, and what might have happened after we fled the castle. What had he argued about with the Sultan? What did the Queen do that affected him so badly he could hardly stand straight? Gods, I want so badly to talk to him. I want to tell him about Barron, explain that I'm not angry that he never told me and how good of a man and father his son seems to be. I want to fall into his arms like when I was a girl and listen to him tell me everything is going to be okay. I quickly shake myself at the thought before I fall into a spiral. I couldn't lose it, not now and not again. There's no time or room for that sadness in me.
With a deep breath I start to walk back into the living room, stopping in the hallway when I overhear Barron and Emilia are arguing about something.
"How could you leave your family?" Emilia snarls, her tone a deadly mix of anger and hurt.
"Because I know this is the right thing to do. You told me to defend my home and what's mine and that's what I'm doing." He jabs his finger in his chest as he speaks, his tone not nearly as icy as his wife's. "I'm going to help secure a life for my daughter."
"You can do that with us," she hisses, her hands flying to her hips, "not risking your life in the capital."
Something tugs at my sleeve and I jump, looking down into the hazel eyes of Isabel. She stares up at me with a small smile. "They never fight," she whispers, "Mother is almost always right, Father says."
"He's a smart man," I whisper back with a smile. I bend down to her level, grabbing her tiny hands into mine. They're soft, so soft I feel like I'm holding a flower petal. "Always remember your father loves you very much. Never let a man love you any less than that, okay?"
"Okay," she says with a toothy grin, "Do you love anybody?"
"I have. . . once," I respond, "But it wasn't love like your Mother and Father have."
She opens her mouth to say something when Emilia pops her head into the hallway. "Are you ready, little dove?" Her tone now has no hint of anger in it, but is soft and calm.
"Ready," Isabel nods her head and then looks at me, "Good day, auntie."
"Good day, Isabel," I reply as I release her hands. She brushes past me and joins hands with her mother, both of them leaving the hall and then the home.
I meet Barron in the living room where he sits in his chair alone, his elbows on his knees and face resting against his fists. He looks up when I come in and smiles, but it's strained.
"I shouldn't have made you feel like you had to stay," I begin, walking over and kneeling in front of him, "It still isn't too late if you want to go after them."
"This is my choice, Alaya. My wife and I have been on the run for what feels like a lifetime." He leans back in his chair with a sigh. "Her father was the Duke of Rimore.  She was his only daughter, but he had seven children. Some of the boys went off to the capital to be Sultans, others stayed behind. But for Emilia, he had marriage in mind. Only it wasn't with me. When she refused and we fled, he sent men after us. They followed us until I. . . well, until I took care of it. But he just kept sending them and posting out rewards for her capture until one of his sons poisoned him for titleship. We ran and hid for years because of the greed of that man. Now we finally have peace and a home, I can't let that be taken away again. I can't go back to the life of living in the shadows, that's not the life my daughter deserves."
I see him in a new light now, and I understand what he meant when he said he knows what it feels like to run from something. We all have a past, and we're all damaged cargo because of it. But in the end it makes us who we are, it makes us survivors. It means we lived and we fought, we will keep living and fighting because that's just what you do, despite it all.
I place a hand on his knee and offer a tight smile. "We will defeat this. And we will be stronger because of it."
He puts his hand over mine, only for a moment, but the touch is warm and strong, hard from years of labor, yet comforting all the same.
"So about the wedding," he says as I stand and walk to the couch, sitting down with my legs crossed underneath me. "Where will it occur?"
    "The Courtyard, just before the pond," I chew on my lip as I recall the layout of the castle grounds, "To the east is the Carved Garden, after that is the iron fence to keep out stragglers. The west is just forest where the capital ends."
    "The only chance the vamphir would have to get through is the forest."
    "And that's the only place to run. Other than that, you're trapped by water, a fence, or the north side of the castle." I pinch the bridge of my nose. "If they attack at the wedding, then we need that sword. That's my first concern."
    "You said yourself you can sneak in through the servants' quarters."
    "By myself, maybe, but not with people following me. You would all have to stay behind."
    "I don't like it, but fine, we all stay behind. You get the sword, meet us in the forest after. There we will wait for the vamphir."
    "And if they come before I can get the sword?" I say, standing and starting to pace.
    "They can be made immoble, they aren't invincible. We aim for the legs, the arms, the heads, anything to slow them down."
              He's right, but that can only do so much. I think back to that old book of the northern kingdom's history for something, anything, that weakened them besides Grimstone. The book made them out to be invincible, an unnatural, immovable force to be reckoned with. But just like us, they are living. They breathe, feed, and function on a basic level the same as we do. That's when it hits me. Something that is a weakness for anything, the destroyer of whatever it finds in its path.
             "Fire!" I shout, "That's it! We need fire."
             "Fire?" Barron raises an eyebrow, "You mean the totally uncontrollable element that can burn down the castle in minutes? Not a good idea." He shakes his head. I run to him, grabbing him by his shoulders.
             "We don't have a choice. It's the castle or our lives. Think about it, we need to set a trap. Lantern oil, tons of it, pour it around the trees, get the vamphirs in and set the bastards on fire."
            He chews on the inside of his cheek deep in thought. "Where would we even find enough of that?"
            "The castle has a full supply of it in the underground system, they keep a vat full. You know how many lanterns are in the castle to have so much lantern oil?" I laugh, though it isn't really funny. But I may have given us more than just a last stand, but a real fighting chance.
          "How will we get to it? In case you haven't noticed, we're running on a time limit and are wanted by the Queen."
          "You and Nikolai will follow me inside. I think I can manage sneaking in at least two other people. The wedding isn't until well after sundown, we have time. Now when the vamphirs will show, I'm not sure. We just have to make haste."
           He nods his head as I step back, starting to pace again. "It could work, even if we set the whole forest on fire."
           I chew on my lip, my mind spinning with the possibilities. "Exactly, but. . ." I trail off, unsure of how to put this without hurting his feelings. Either way, I know he won't like what I have to say. "Another thing. I want you to stay out of the fight. Once we get the oil, I want you to stay out of the forest."
    "What?" He says, his eyebrows drawing together. "Why would you say that?"
    "Because, Barron, you're a mortal. They can tear you in half with their bare hands. I saw you fight, you can go rounds with a Sultan, but this is different."
    "What would you have me do then, Alaya? Stand around while you all get your hands dirty? No, I won't."
    "Think of your family, Barron," I say, stopping mid step and facing him. "You shouldn't put yourself in that kind of situation. I have something else I want you to do."
    "And what is that?"
    "I want you to cause a scene, something that gets everyone running back into the castle where they're safe. And I'm going to give you the matching dagger, that way I know you can kill the bastards that get too close. Your job is to protect the castle, ours will be to keep them from getting there."
    "Then why need me?" He snaps, crossing his arms over his chest.
    "Because who knows how many people Nikolai will bring back or how many vamphirs are coming, there are too many unknown factors. There needs to be protection on both sides."
              He opens his mouth to argue when the door opens. Nikolai rushes in, his gaze on something behind him. Jerrick files in after, and then comes the Insurgence.
               A woman—if you can even call her that since she looks to be about sixteen—steps through behind Jerrick, her wavy auburn hair cut to her shoulders and bangs clipped away from her heart-shaped face that's adorned with freckles. A scar trails its way from her eyebrow, through her eye, and down to her top lip. Her eyes are a brilliant green, almost like Nikolai's, and her figure could be perfectly described as hourglass, and the red dress that clung to her hips certainly helped. Wrapped around her waist in a belt is what I can only call a war hammer, with a long handle and a massive stone attached to it in the shape of a snarling battle ram's head.
            Behind her comes a short, onyx skinned man with stunningly yellow eyes and a full mouth. His hair is in long braids down below his shoulder, with multiple colored beads intertwining his black hair. He's built wide and stocky, with arms thick and dark like tree trunks. He wears only a vest, despite the cold, and flared brown pants. Across his shoulder is a bow and bag of—conveniently—Grimstone tipped arrows
           The lady that comes in after is older, probably older than Barron, with straw colored hair and nearly black eyes. Her features are narrow and fox-like, and her body is just as thin and all bone. She's in a fitted coat and black trousers with boots that almost match my brown ones. Against her thigh is a dagger and around her waist is a sheathed sword, one that I can tell is Tultarin from the roaring lion sigil on its leather casing.
           I watch as she closes the door behind her, my heart sinking a little. Just three people? Deadly as they look, that's all he could find? I shake the disappointment off and walk over to Nikolai, lowering my voice to a whisper. "That's it?"
           "We can hear you." The auburn-haired girl laughs. My face reddens, but I continue anyway.
            "I just was hoping for more than three people. Are you all Imordals?"
             They nod their heads simultaneously. Nikolai  turns to stand beside me, facing the three newcomers as Barron rises from his chair. "This is Syren," he points to the blonde, rail-thin woman who gives a curt nod. "She's blind and doesn't talk much, but is an absolute tigress in battle. Her sense of hearing is wickedly sharp like her sword." He then shifts and points to the young girl, "This is Demeter, she's young but quite violent." She gives a wave and a wide, toothy smile as he points to the man. "And this is Likan. He's from the southern city of Kamdahl and is by far the most talented man I've met with a bow." Likan presses his palms together and bows. "Everyone, this is Alaya and Barron Maltrov."
             "Ah," Demeter clicks her tongue, "the Lord Commander's children. Your father was the one that seized Tultarin."
           "Under the Queen's orders," I remind her, before turning to Nikolai. "We have a plan. It gives us a fighting chance against a hoard of them."
            "A fighting chance is all we'll ever need," Demeter says, "Do tell."
            And so I do.