“Hurry along, little rat,” Lucious said.
His comment exasperated her, but she would not let insulting words from a drunken coward affect her.
Excited as a spring day to finally be able to use her sword in real one-on-one combat, Ceres ran to the blacksmith’s chalet and located her sword in the loft where she had left it. She sprinted back to the practice arena and took her spot across Lucious, who was standing ready with his own sword.
Lucious took one look at Ceres’s sword, and his jaw dropped open.
“Where would a rodent like you get a weapon like that?” he asked with covetous eyes.
“My father gave it to me.”
“Well, what a fool he must have been,” Lucious said.
“And why is that?” Ceres asked.
“Today I will triumph over you, and when I do, your weapon will be mine.”
Lucious lunged at Ceres, their blades colliding. Although Lucious was rather lacking in muscularity, gangly even, he was strong. After blocking a few blows, she began to doubt whether or not she would be able to win.
He slashed again but she resisted, and sword pressing against sword, they encircled as they stared into each other’s eyes. She could see his hatred for her in those hazel irises, and she wondered what she possibly could have done to deserve it.
He shoved her hard so she had to move back several steps so as not to fall, and then he hacked at her from above, as she blocked from below.
A low rumble of excitement made its way through the bystanders.
Lunging, she slashed, but he retreated and wobbled a bit, his brow misted with sweat, his shoulders tense.
But then Lucious’s eyes darkened, and he swung at her, rashly. She jumped over his blade, and just as she landed, she kicked him in the abdomen so he fell onto his back.
He didn’t move for a moment, and Ceres wondered if he was unconscious. But a sudden shriek spilled out of his lips and he sat up. Leaning on his sword, he climbed to his feet while mumbling something underneath his breath.
“You’re better than I thought, I’ll give you that,” Lucious said. “But I was going easy on you. Now I’m finished playing games, and you, little rat, must die.”
Sweat stung Ceres’s eyes, and she raised her sword as she exhaled several forceful breaths. She could feel Stephania’s glare at the back of her head, and it made her want to triumph all the more.
Coming at her, Lucious attacked with all his might. She pretended she would meet him head on, but then swerved last minute and kicked her legs between his, and he tumbled to the ground onto his belly.
His sword skidded across the ground, stopping a few feet away, and then there was utter silence.
Lucious rolled onto his back. Ceres stood above him, holding the tip of her sword at his throat, waiting for the Empire soldier to call the winner.
But the soldier remained silent.
She looked up, and the Empire soldier still said nothing, an impassive expression on his face.
Glowering, Lucious climbed to a standing position and spit on the ground next to Ceres’s feet.
“I refuse to acknowledge a girl’s victory,” he said.
Ceres took a step forward.
“I won fair and square,” she said.
Lucious raised his hand and backhanded her across the cheek, the demoralizing assault causing several observers to gasp. Without even a second thought, acting only on rage and impulse, Ceres slapped him in return.
Right as her hand hit his face, she knew it was a huge mistake; yet there was not a thing she could do to take it back. Everyone had seen it, and although she wasn’t quite certain what the punishment was for striking a royal, she knew it would be severe.
Holding his cheek, Lucious looked at her with wide, surprised eyes and for a few moments, it was as if time had frozen.
“Arrest her!” he yelled, pointing at her.
Ceres faltered a few steps back, time passing as if in a nightmare. But her mind seemed to not want to function, and before she could even think what to do or what to say, two Empire soldiers had grabbed her arms.
A moment later they were dragging her away, far from here, and far from the life she had almost had.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Rexus!”
Rexus turned to see a frantic Nesos sprinting toward him, and his heart flooded with dread. Nesos had been dispatched on an important mission, so his being here couldn’t be good, Rexus knew.
Nesos skidded to a halt right in front of Rexus, dust stirring the air, and rested hands on knees while he panted.
“I just came… from northern Delos and… the Empire soldiers are everywhere… saying new laws are being enacted, they are hauling off… firstborn men, slaughtering… anyone who refuses,” Nesos said, still breathless, sweat running down his face.
Rexus’s blood curdled. He shot to his feet and took off at a run toward the main entrance of the castle. He had to warn the others.
“Next they will attack Delos east, then west…and finally south,” Nesos said, trailing after him.
Rexus had an idea.
“Take with you a few men and send every dove we have to warn our supporters,” he said. “Ask them to meet below North Square as soon as possible and with as many weapons as they can carry. We will free these firstborns so they can join the rebellion. I will gather the supporters here and ride out immediately.”
“Right away,” Nesos said.
It begins here, Rexus thought as he ran toward the others. Today they would make a stand and kill in the name of freedom.
Within moments Rexus had over a hundred men and fifty women assembled in front of the cascading waterfall, ready on horses, weapons in hand. As he explained the plan to the revolutionaries, he saw fear in their eyes. A fearful warrior would not win any battles, he knew. And so he stood before them to speak.
“I see in each of your eyes the terror of death,” Rexus said.
“Fear you not death?” a man yelled from the crowd.
“Yes, I do. I have no wish to die. But more than fearing death, my deepest fear is living the rest of my life on my knees,” Rexus said. “More than fearing death, I fear I will never know freedom. And these firstborn men can help us attain that.”
“But we have children!” a woman yelled. “They will be punished for our rebellion!”
“I have no children of my own, but I know the fear of losing someone dear. If we win, your children and your children’s children will never know oppression the way we have. And would you not rather your children follow in your example of courage than your example of fear?” he said.
The militia grew ghostly silent, and nothing but the roar of the waterfall and the occasional neighing of a horse could be heard.
“Do not fool yourselves into believing the Empire will give you liberty,” Rexus said.
“I, like many here, are with you, friend,” a man shouted. “But do you think we have a real chance at winning this war?”
“The war will not be won today,” Rexus continued. “Not tomorrow, even. But eventually, we will win. A people who demands freedom will in the end claim it.”
Heads nodded and a few lifted weapons into the air.
“We are few. They are many,” another man said.
“We, the oppressed, outnumber the oppressors a hundred to one, and as soon as we have enough supporters, we will triumph!” Rexus said.
“They will never permit us to usurp the throne,” a woman said.
“Permit?” Rexus said. “You do not need permission from any king, queen, or royal to free yourselves from the bonds of oppression. Today, and every day from now on, give yourselves permission and fight to take back your liberty!”
One by one, the rebels raised weapons into the air, soon the sound of their cheers overpowering the waterfall.
The time, Rexus knew, had come.
As he rode toward Delos, followed by his men, the sound of the horses galloping in his ears, Rexus’s thoughts turned toward Ceres. She had looked so thin and vulnerable when he saw her last, and his heart had nearly burst with emotion. Like every time before, he had been such a fool – had only kissed her briefly when he wanted to take her into his arms and keep her there forever.