Mother of Rebellion (The Leyumin Divided Saga Book 1) Read online

  Jerg kept talking as they continued. “Mine’s cheese. Snuck it off a platter in the kitchen once.”

  The boy stepped into an opening, and Anakai hurried in after him. “I’ve never had cheese,” Anakai said. “I like sweet pastries.”

  “I can understand that,” Jerg said.

  The clearing they were in was much smaller than the previous one. One canyon wall bubbled upward, and between two smooth hills there was a crevice in the ground.

  “Look there.” Anakai pointed. “Do you think we can squeeze into that?”

  They approached it with caution, not knowing what could be living in there already. Jerg handed the torch to Anakai. “Hold it still,” he said. He hit the flint with the steel several times until a spark lit the dry brush at the tip of the torch. The fire spread evenly until the torch was blazing.

  “Stick it into the hole,” Jerg said.

  Anakai did, but the flame became weaker. “I can’t see to the bottom.” Anakai picked up a small rock and dropped it. It clattered on the floor of the cave not far from the opening. “There’s a wall on this side of the opening,” Anakai said. “We might be able to climb down and back up again.”

  “I’m going in.” Jerg sat on the edge of the crevice and lowered himself in. It didn’t take long for him to reach the bottom. “Hold the torch down, and I’ll try to get it,” he said out of the darkness.

  Anakai did the best he could, lying on his stomach against the incline of rock bordering the crevice. He stretched his arm as far as it could go, but still had to lower the upper half of his body into the crevice before Jerg could reach it by climbing up the wall just a little. As the other boy grabbed the torch, Anakai felt himself slipping. He slid into the crevice, turned head over heels, and landed on his back. It knocked the breath out of him, and he had to gasp for air.

  Jerg jumped off the wall and landed next to Anakai. “Anything broke?”

  Anakai sat up, his lungs still tight. “I don’t think so,” he said.

  “Good.” Jerg looked around the cave. It was small, with no outlets save the crevice above. “Looks good to me.” He stacked some loose stones and laid the torch on an incline. The flame was weaker in the cave, but it didn’t go out.

  Both boys curled up on the cool stone floor, back to back. They lay there for a while, as the daylight vanished from the crack above. Anakai was exhausted, but the hard rock and the strange surroundings made sleep harder. As his eyelids began to grow heavy, a shout of terror ripped through the night air, somewhere near their little shelter. Both boys sat up, staring up at the sliver of night sky beyond the crevice.

  “Should we do something?” Anakai asked. “Go help?”

  “And get killed?” Jerg said. “Nah. We need to stay put. We don’t owe nobody nothin’.”

  Anakai winced as another shout was cut off unnaturally. “Should one of us stay up for a while? Keep watch?”

  “Good idea. You go first,” Jerg said. “Wake me in a few hours.”

  A long, drawn-out howl and more shouting made Anakai shiver. “What was that?”

  “Probably just some spikehounds,” Jerg said as he yawned. He stretched out on the ground, closed his eyes, and was snoring within a few minutes.

  Anakai sat in the dark, eyes on the crevice, praying no one would notice the little slit in the ground. It didn’t bother him to be on guard first. As the noises outside continued, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.

  “Anker!” Jerg shook Anakai’s shoulder. “Anker! It’s sunrise.”

  Anakai groaned. His entire left side was stiff. He rolled over to find a barely familiar face leaning over him, illuminated by dim sunlight. He had woken Jerg halfway through the night when everything had turned quiet. His utter exhaustion had overcome his fear. Now, dim morning light filtered through the crevice.

  Anakai sat up. “It’s Anakai,” he said. “Not Anker.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” Jerg paused and squinted. “Do you remember my name?”

  “Jerg.”

  The other boy snapped his fingers. “I knew you looked smart. You from the Central Sector?”

  “Yes.” Anakai knit his brow together. “How did you know?”

  “Lower Sector street smarts, I guess,” Jerg said. “C’mon.”

  Anakai got up, trying not to stare at Jerg. He’d heard terrible things about the Lower Sector, like they didn’t have enough food for everyone and rats or that they were ruled by criminals more than the City Guard. He didn’t know how much of the rumors were true, but he did know it was a place of survival.

  Maybe he’s more prepared for all of this than I am, Anakai thought.

  He climbed the wall of their cave after Jerg. The sun wasn’t visible yet above the canyons, and the corridors were mostly overshadowed.

  Jerg stretched and yawned. “This fresh air is nice,” he said. “And all the space. Best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

  “Really?” Anakai asked. “It was so dark. All those terrible noises… and the ground was so hard.”

  “Nah.” Jerg waved Anakai’s words away. “Just as dark and hard as a cobbled alley, but smoother. And quieter, actually.”

  Anakai didn’t know what to say to that, except, “We’d better get going. We don’t want to be late.”

  Jerg agreed, and they made their way back to the place where General Vordon had sent them out the night before. On the way, Anakai thought of the hay-stuffed mattress and blankets he’d shared with his mother, the warmth of her beside him at night, and her soothing songs when a nightmare plagued him.

  There will be no one to sing to me now. No bed and blankets. Just cold, hard stone.

  Before long, most of the slave-sons were gathered there again. There were perhaps a dozen boys still missing by the time General Vordon came through the iron gate. He took a minute to look over the boys, and taking one by the shoulder, brought him before the group.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Elav, sir,” the boy said as he looked down at his feet.

  “Where did this blood come from?” General Vordon pointed to the smattering of crimson on Elav’s brown tunic.

  He flushed, and his eyes rimmed with tears.

  “Don’t cry, boy. Tell me where the blood came from.”

  “I… me and Ru, we fought another pair for a place to sleep.”

  “Which of you is Ru?” No one raised a hand, so the general shouted the question again. They all jumped at his voice, and another boy, bigger than most of them, came to the front.

  Ru stuck his chin up. “We did what you said to do. And we made it back.”

  General Vordon laughed. “Good!” He held out a hand and Ru came to stand beside him. Elav continued to stare at the ground, but Ru squared his shoulders and faced them all proudly. “The weak are not your brothers,” Vordon said. “Ru, do you see the boys you fought?”

  “No, sir.”

  “They were weak. They never belonged here. But all of you!” General Vordon waved his hand over those gathered before him. “All of you survived your first night in the canyons.”

  Anakai shifted uncomfortably. If surviving the night meant he belonged, he didn’t feel it. He was glad there was no fight the night before where he and Jerg were concerned.

  “Strength is rewarded here,” the general continued. He signaled a warrior that had been standing off to the side, and the man lifted sheets off a row of baskets. He also loosened the lid on a water barrel and hung a ladle over the lip. Vordon spoke as a father to a son. “Go eat and drink. Pour a cup of water over your heads and clear away the dust of travel.”

  Anakai rushed forward with the rest. At the mention of food, his stomach had rumbled. They had been given meager provisions on the way there but had gone to bed without food. The baskets were full of bread and dried meat, and all the boys gathered a handful of each.

  The meat was salty and tough, but Anakai couldn’t get enough of it. The bread was flat and thick and filling. It was refreshing to gulp down a cup
of water. He held it in his mouth, swishing it around and savoring it before swallowing.

  General Vordon let them all eat and drink before calling them back to the center of the clearing. Anakai left the food reluctantly, not wanting to find out what happened to those who lagged behind.

  “Now you must see what happens when a slave-son goes astray. When weakness doesn’t kill the weak on its own. When that weakness breeds stupidity.” Vordon’s expression went dark, and he spoke with foreboding in his voice. “We’ve saved a demonstration of punishment just for you,” he said. “Follow me and keep quiet. The place we’re going is on the outskirts of our territory here in the canyons. It’s a place we share with the therbaks. We don’t want to call unnecessary attention to ourselves.”

  Therbaks.

  Anakai’s heart quickened at the word. Every child in Adikea knew the stories of therbaks. Great winged beasts, cousins to the ancient and extinct dragon race, and reminiscent of them in some ways. While the legends of dragons spoke of sentient beings, brutal and bigger than any living creature, the world knew therbaks as less intelligent, smaller, purely instinctual beasts. Still, the therbak was the most dangerous predator left in all of Leyumin. Their Adikean ancestors had subdued and corralled the therbaks into the canyons. Occasionally, news would spread when travelers encountered the beasts, losing one or more of their people to the predators.

  The group of several dozen young slave-sons followed General Vordon through corridor after corridor. The sun was high in the sky by the time they reached the entrance to a cave. It was a long, thin cavern with a long, thin hole carved through one wall so that a huge clearing in the canyons outside was made visible.

  “This is a viewing chamber,” General Vordon said. “We have many of them on this side of the clearing.” He pointed to the arena below. “And that is the Feeding Trough. This is where we gather to learn. We learn what happens to men who disobey. Men who try to escape their destiny. And men who forget their place in the world.” He waved a hand toward the open space outside the viewing chamber, and the boys lined up so they could see.

  Anakai found a space between Jerg and another boy who was smaller than most of them and looked as though he might collapse in on himself at any moment.

  Anakai introduced himself in a whisper, to which the boy replied softly, “I’m Nim.”

  Jerg elbowed Anakai in the side. “Don’t bother with him,” he said. “He won’t be here long.”

  Nim paled and gripped the edge of the rock in front of him.

  “Jerg doesn’t know everything,” Anakai said, but the small boy’s nervous countenance made Anakai wince even as he tried to reassure him.

  With the cave behind, and an overhang of rock above the open hole, Anakai felt safe enough to lean out a little into the open air. It was hot, and the air was still. Below was a flat, wide area with high canyon walls surrounding all sides. There was only one entrance to the empty space below that Anakai could see — a narrow corridor — and it was barred from the floor all the way to the top.

  The sound of metal on metal echoed through the canyons as someone slid an iron door in the barred fence upward, pushed a man out, and let the door slam shut. The man scrambled to get back inside the corridor, but he was pushed away from the bars with the butt of a spear. He nervously searched the sky. The overhang obscured the canyon walls above and to each side, so Anakai leaned out a touch more, searching as the man did.

  The arena below was empty, save for the man, who began to pace. Something was thrown from the corridor, through the bars, and onto the floor. It skipped across stone with a clatter and landed on softer ground. The man scurried after it, diving, kicking up dust as he grasped hold of it. The blade of a dagger caught the sun as the man stood and brandished it. He looked more confident with weapon in hand.

  “And so you see,” General Vordon said from behind, “He is offered a way to die with honor, though his life was useless. A slave-son runaway, too cowardly to serve the strongest nation of Leyumin, doesn’t deserve to die fighting. But the Emperor is gracious, and half of this traitor’s blood is Adikean. So, if he chooses to face his death with dagger in hand, he will, at the very least, atone for some of the embarrassment he has brought to his father’s household.”

  As the general finished, Anakai spotted a black speck in the sky growing larger as it dove toward the ground. It flew parallel to the canyon wall to the far left of the viewing chamber. Anakai shaded his eyes from the sun to see it better. As it neared the ground, the black beast leveled, and with the momentum of the fall and a beat of its wings for direction, it sped across the canyon floor.

  Black, leathery skin. Two rows of short spikes from the crest of its brow to the tip of its tail. Teeth stark white, each one a dagger in its own right. Jowls extending into three spikes on each side of the creature’s head. Eyes red against yellow. This was the therbak. The creature of nightmares.

  At the first sight of it, gasps traveled down the line of boys. Anakai leaned back inside, and his blood teemed with the urge to flee. Beside him, Nim buried his head in his hands. At the general’s bidding, a warrior came and slapped Nim’s hands away, forcing him to watch. Down the line, Elav backed away and was pushed forward. Jerg leaned forward, eyes wide, as did several others.

  Anakai pressed his fingers against the stone lip of the viewing hole until they hurt, but he did not look away or run. The therbak closed in on the man below. Its long neck stretched forward as it flew, and when it neared the man, it opened its mouth and snapped.

  But the man rolled under the therbak. Anakai could see him take several jabs upward into its belly as it passed over him. At the last jab, the animal roared and twitched, the talons on its foot grazing the man’s side. If any damage had been done, the beast showed no sign of it as it swooped backwards in a graceful arch. The man ran feebly in the other direction. Cutting off any delusion of escape, the therbak completed its maneuver and landed in the man’s path. The sharp point on the tip of each wing balanced the beast so its body created a semi-circle around the man. It was about three times the size of its prey, who now held his side where the talon had cut into him.

  The tip of the dagger was broken, but the would-be-warrior waved it at the therbak anyway. The threat was answered with a low, guttural growl. The creature scraped the ground with one of its feet and flipped up sand, dirt, and small rocks into the air beside the man, startling him. He dropped what was left of his dagger, shielded his face, and in his moment of distraction was met with the therbak’s bite.

  There was no scream, only the crunching of bones. The therbak dropped the dead body for a moment and nuzzled its scaled belly. Anakai spotted a glint of metal fall to the ground as if the therbak were simply removing a splinter. A dagger lodged in its armor-like skin was nothing more than an annoyance. Then it gathered the body back into its jaws, lifted its wings, jumped, and flew back toward the top of the canyon wall, leaving behind only a puddle of fresh blood.

  All of this happened within minutes. When it was over, Nim lurched his head over the opening and vomited. Whispers flew up and down the line, some more excited about the spectacle than others. Anakai watched the therbak grow smaller, his hands still gripping the lip of rock in front of him.

  “All right, boys,” General Vordon said. “Remember this. Remember that disloyalty will land you in the Feeding Trough. You are slave-sons now, but you will be shaped into slave-son warriors. A warrior, even a slave-son, demands respect. A warrior serves Adikea in a vital way. A warrior brings honor to his father’s household.” He crossed his arms. “A coward is nothing but food for beasts. Remember this, and draw strength from your Adikean blood.”

  The trek back to the center of warrior territory seemed longer than it should have been. A few of the boys cried, and a few of them seemed energized. Motivated, even. Anakai knew crying would do him no good; it was a sign of weakness. The general’s last words echoed in his mind.

  Draw strength from your Adikean blood.

&nbs
p; Anakai pushed down his fear. He imagined stuffing it away in a trunk and leaving it there, locked up and unable to touch him. His father came to mind — indifferent at best, angry at worst. Was that Adikean strength? His mother had asked him never to become like his father, to be better. But, not once had Anakai seen fear on his father’s face or heard it in his voice. Was that what he needed to survive?

  Momma would want me to live. Anakai straightened his shoulders. He concentrated on smoothing out his brow, on making his lips a firm line, on steadying the slight tremble in his hands. If I find my strength in my father’s blood, that doesn’t mean I have to become just like him, does it?

  Anakai made a new promise, this one to himself.

  The Kelda Canyons would not be the death of him.

  Chapter Four

  Jabin

  Yllin Agricultural Estate, Eikon

  2nd Cycle of Chenack

  986 Post Schism

  The sound of iron hitting stone. Shouts of alarm as chaos ensued. Bright flames dancing, consuming everything. There was no way in. Smoke rising, blocking out the early morning sky. Cries for help drowned out by roaring fire. His mother screaming, clawing at the air as his father held her back from certain death. But somehow, Jabin found himself near his sister inside the inferno. He watched as fire licked at her skin, blistering it as she curled her body around the little barn kitten she so greatly admired. The stench of burnt hair and searing human flesh filled Jabin’s nostrils. He reached out to the small figure, trying to grasp her arm, to pull her out, but his hand passed through her like it was made of vapor. He screamed for help, but it made no sound. Her agonized screams stopped, and she lay motionless. Jabin fell to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks. His sister was dead.

  Jabin Yllin woke with a start, his small body jerking violently to escape the nightmare. He couldn’t catch his breath as his lungs gasped for air. Sweat soaked his nightshirt, and his throat ached as though he’d been screaming. His cheeks were wet with tears, his vision blurry. He swung his feet over the side of the bed and hopped onto the cool, gray stone of his bedroom floor. He bolted halfway across the room toward the door before he remembered.