Read Online The Reawakened by Jeri Smith-Ready - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jeri Smith-Ready
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Spirit-brothers.
One thing was for certain: he wouldn’t be taken alive.
Standing in the tree’s shadow, he could hide his movement from weak Descendant eyes. His fingers slipped around the hilt.
“I saw that.” The voice took on a new edge. “Step forward, hands up—both of them—or you’ll be shot.”
Shot? Descendants didn’t use bows and arrows; they thought the weapons were cowardly, womanly, without honor.
Nilik raised his other palm and walked out from under the trees. A rocky ridge loomed before him, a dark mass against the starry sky.
“Nilik?” came another, older voice. “What are you doing here?”
He let out a breath. Uncle Lycas.
“Hector!” Nilik shouted, hoping Jula had guessed the password correctly.
A short silence followed, then Lycas called, “Stay. I’ll come down.”
While he waited for his uncle to appear, Nilik fought to steady his breath. If his sister had misled him, he’d be in for a long, possibly unconscious ride home to Tiros. At the top of the ridge, two archers stood with their arrows trained upon him, no doubt suspecting him of being a decoy.
Finally Lycas appeared from a hidden trail at the bottom of the ridge. Behind him strode a slightly younger man with a dark, thick beard and the same carved wolverine claw that hung around Lycas’s and Nilik’s necks.
“I thought your mother wouldn’t let you go.” Lycas handed Nilik a water skin.
Nilik took a deep draught and wiped the sweat from his face. “I knew the password, didn’t I?”
Lycas grinned and raised his arms as if to embrace Nilik, then seemed to reconsider. He turned to the other man. “This is Sirin, my executive officer and second-in-command.”
Nilik bowed, feeling his calves and hamstrings quiver at the strain. “It’s an honor.”
Sirin examined him, then nodded and returned the bow. “Welcome to our band of bandits.”
“Bandits?” Nilik furrowed his brow at Lycas. “What’s he mean?”
“It’s what the Ilions call us. They won’t recognize a rebellion, because that would admit weakness, so they treat us like criminals, even though we’ve never attacked a civilian.”
“Thugs, they also call us.” Sirin scratched his chin. “What’s the other one I like?”
“Hooligans,” Lycas added. “Ruffians.”
“Brigands.” Sirin snapped his fingers. “That’s my favorite. I’d never even heard that word before I found out I was one.”
Lycas gestured for them to follow him up the ridge. “It serves us well,” he said to Nilik. “They won’t deploy enough soldiers against us to do the job right, because that would mean we were a threat. They send just enough men to donate arms and horses to our cause.”
“And uniforms,” Sirin added. “Which make good disguises once the blood’s washed out.”
Nilik chuckled, then realized Sirin wasn’t joking. He feigned a cough to cover his embarrassment.
Lycas glanced back at them. “Now it’s to the point where even if they tried a major military operation to stop us, we’d still likely win. We fight on uneven terrain where their horses are useless, we wait in ambush instead of marching in the open like idiots, we fight at night or in bad weather whenever possible. Above all, we’re not afraid to retreat.”
“I don’t understand,” Nilik admitted, his mind as tired as his legs.
Lycas paused on a level part of the trail and waited for them to catch up. “We’re not fighting the same kind of war as the Ilions. They’re still locked into notions of a warrior’s honor and glory. We have no honor except loyalty to the cause, no glory other than survival.”
Nilik made a frustrated noise in his throat. “Then how are we ever going to win?”
“Listen to me.” Lycas put his hands on Nilik’s shoulders. “We don’t need to win. We need to not lose.” He cut off Nilik’s scoff with a light shake. “Let me finish.”
Chastised, Nilik sobered his face. “Sorry. Go on.”
“Imagine a dog. That dog has one
One thing was for certain: he wouldn’t be taken alive.
Standing in the tree’s shadow, he could hide his movement from weak Descendant eyes. His fingers slipped around the hilt.
“I saw that.” The voice took on a new edge. “Step forward, hands up—both of them—or you’ll be shot.”
Shot? Descendants didn’t use bows and arrows; they thought the weapons were cowardly, womanly, without honor.
Nilik raised his other palm and walked out from under the trees. A rocky ridge loomed before him, a dark mass against the starry sky.
“Nilik?” came another, older voice. “What are you doing here?”
He let out a breath. Uncle Lycas.
“Hector!” Nilik shouted, hoping Jula had guessed the password correctly.
A short silence followed, then Lycas called, “Stay. I’ll come down.”
While he waited for his uncle to appear, Nilik fought to steady his breath. If his sister had misled him, he’d be in for a long, possibly unconscious ride home to Tiros. At the top of the ridge, two archers stood with their arrows trained upon him, no doubt suspecting him of being a decoy.
Finally Lycas appeared from a hidden trail at the bottom of the ridge. Behind him strode a slightly younger man with a dark, thick beard and the same carved wolverine claw that hung around Lycas’s and Nilik’s necks.
“I thought your mother wouldn’t let you go.” Lycas handed Nilik a water skin.
Nilik took a deep draught and wiped the sweat from his face. “I knew the password, didn’t I?”
Lycas grinned and raised his arms as if to embrace Nilik, then seemed to reconsider. He turned to the other man. “This is Sirin, my executive officer and second-in-command.”
Nilik bowed, feeling his calves and hamstrings quiver at the strain. “It’s an honor.”
Sirin examined him, then nodded and returned the bow. “Welcome to our band of bandits.”
“Bandits?” Nilik furrowed his brow at Lycas. “What’s he mean?”
“It’s what the Ilions call us. They won’t recognize a rebellion, because that would admit weakness, so they treat us like criminals, even though we’ve never attacked a civilian.”
“Thugs, they also call us.” Sirin scratched his chin. “What’s the other one I like?”
“Hooligans,” Lycas added. “Ruffians.”
“Brigands.” Sirin snapped his fingers. “That’s my favorite. I’d never even heard that word before I found out I was one.”
Lycas gestured for them to follow him up the ridge. “It serves us well,” he said to Nilik. “They won’t deploy enough soldiers against us to do the job right, because that would mean we were a threat. They send just enough men to donate arms and horses to our cause.”
“And uniforms,” Sirin added. “Which make good disguises once the blood’s washed out.”
Nilik chuckled, then realized Sirin wasn’t joking. He feigned a cough to cover his embarrassment.
Lycas glanced back at them. “Now it’s to the point where even if they tried a major military operation to stop us, we’d still likely win. We fight on uneven terrain where their horses are useless, we wait in ambush instead of marching in the open like idiots, we fight at night or in bad weather whenever possible. Above all, we’re not afraid to retreat.”
“I don’t understand,” Nilik admitted, his mind as tired as his legs.
Lycas paused on a level part of the trail and waited for them to catch up. “We’re not fighting the same kind of war as the Ilions. They’re still locked into notions of a warrior’s honor and glory. We have no honor except loyalty to the cause, no glory other than survival.”
Nilik made a frustrated noise in his throat. “Then how are we ever going to win?”
“Listen to me.” Lycas put his hands on Nilik’s shoulders. “We don’t need to win. We need to not lose.” He cut off Nilik’s scoff with a light shake. “Let me finish.”
Chastised, Nilik sobered his face. “Sorry. Go on.”
“Imagine a dog. That dog has one
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