Read Online Rise of the Valiant by Morgan Rice - Free Book Online Page B

foremost
amongst them. Now, we are subjects, like everyone else.”
    She sighed, and
fell silent for a long time. Kyra was surprised when she started to speak
again.
    “Our city is cut
with canals,” Dierdre continued. “When I was growing up, I would sit atop the
ridge and watch the ships come in and out for hours, sometimes days. They would
come to us from all over the world, flying all different banners and sails and
colors. They would bring in spices and silks and weapons and delicacies of
every manner—sometimes even animals. I would look at the people coming and
going, and I would wonder about their lives. I wanted desperately to be one of
them.”
    She smiled, an
unusual sight, her eyes aglow, clearly remembering.
    “I used to have
a dream,” Dierdre said. “When I came of age, I would board one of those ships
and sail away to some foreign land. I would find my prince, and we would live
on a great island, in a great castle somewhere. Anywhere but Escalon.”
    Kyra looked over
to see Dierdre smiling.
    “And now?” Kyra
asked.
    Dierdre’s face
fell as she looked down at the snow, her expression suddenly filled with
sadness. She merely shook her head.
    “It’s too late
for me,” Dierdre said. “After what they’ve done to me.”
    “It’s never too
late,” Kyra said, wanting to reassure her.
    But Dierdre
merely shook her head.
    “Those were the
dreams of an innocent girl,” she said, her voice heavy with remorse. “That girl
is long gone.”
    Kyra felt
sadness for her friend as they continued in silence, deeper and deeper into the
wood. She wanted to take away her pain, but did not how. She wondered at the
pain that some people lived with. What was it her father had told her once? Do
not be fooled by men’s faces. We all lead lives of quiet despair. Some hide it
better than others. Feel compassion for all, even if you see no outward reason.
    “The worst day
of my life,” Dierdre continued, “was when my father conceded to Pandesian law,
when he let those ships enter our canals and let his men lower our banners. It
was a sadder day, even, than when he allowed them to take me.”
    Kyra understood
all too well. She understood the pain Dierdre had gone through, the sense of
betrayal.
    “And when you
return?” Kyra asked. “Will you see your father?”
    Dierdre looked
down, pained. Finally, she said: “He is still my father. He made a mistake. I
am sure he did not realize what would become of me. I think he shall never be
the same when he learns what happened. I want to tell him. Eye to eye. I want
him to understand the pain I felt. His betrayal. He needs to understand what
happens when men decide the fate of women.” She wiped away a tear. “He was my
hero once. I do not understand how he could have given me away.”
    “And now?” Kyra
asked.
    Dierdre shook
her head.
    “No more. I am
done making men my heroes. I shall find other heroes.”
    “What about
you?” Kyra asked.
    Dierdre looked
back, confused.
    “What do you
mean?”
    “Why look any
further than yourself?” Kyra asked. “Can you not be your own hero?”
    Dierdre scoffed.
    “And why would
I?”
    “You are a hero
to me,” Kyra said. “What you suffered in there—I could not suffer. You
survived. More than that—you are back on your feet and thriving even now. That
makes you a hero to me.”
    Dierdre seemed
to contemplate her words as they continued on in the silence.
    “And you, Kyra?”
Dierdre finally asked. “Tell me something about you.”
    Kyra shrugged,
wondering.
    “What would you
like to know?”
    Dierdre cleared
her throat.
    “Tell me of the
dragon. What happened back there? I’ve never seen anything like it. Why did he
come for you?” She hesitated. “Who are you?”
    Kyra was
surprised to detect fear in her friend’s voice. She pondered her words, wanting
to answer truthfully, and wished she had the answer.
    “I don’t know,”
she finally answered, truthfully. “I suppose that is what I am going to