“I ask you to keep this between us for the time being,” Ryl breathed quietly. The captain nodded his head in acknowledgement.
“There is far more at stake here than merely the freedom of the tributes,” Ryl continued. “The policies of old that have destroyed so many lives for the benefit of a few must be abolished. While that remains a prime focus, know that there are far more disastrous forces at play. Ones for which loyalties to King or tributes will matter not.”
“What forces, Ryl?” Captain Le’Dral quizzed.
“Think, captain,” Ryl challenged. “Before this morning, the abilities you saw put on display were relegated to the pages of myth. When was the last time skills such as you witnessed were called upon? And for what purpose were they used?”
Le’Dral’s eyes wandered across the camp that spread out before him. Ryl smiled as they widened as the realization struck him.
“It was in the time of Taben,” he whispered.
“Aye. That is correct,” Ryl answered. “The black tide that nearly drowned Damaris has risen yet again.”
The captain opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. His eyes traveled down to the ground at his feet.
The snapping sound of a twig under foot broke the still that had fallen over them.
Le’Dral’s head shot up. Ryl reached for the Leaves as he prepared to call on the speed that flowed through his veins. The bow that forever accompanied Kaep was in her hands, an arrow being brought to the string.
“You’ve left your eastern flank woefully unprepared, my old friend,” came the voice from the darkness.
“I expected better of you.”
Chapter 29
A shadow separated from the scattering of trees behind the captain. A pair of others followed in its wake.
Ryl recognized the voice. He relaxed his grip on the Leaves, turning his head toward Kaep, holding his hand out palm up for pause. She dropped the point of her nocked arrow slightly down toward the ground, though the string remained taut.
Le’Dral straightened, his posture reverting to the regimented stance that had been ingrained as a matter of position for so many cycles. He stared eyes wide into the darkness as the shadow approached. The man wore a dark grey cape; the charcoal hue enabling it to blend in with the grove of trees around him. Small patches of leaves were affixed to the fabric, breaking up the obvious outline of a human form from that of the forest. The well-worn uniform of a guard peered out from underneath.
“Millis!?” Le’Dral whispered as the man reached the edge of the dim light of the captain’s lantern. The whites of his teeth glistened bright through the darkness; his smile stretched wide across his face.
“Aye, sir,” came the reply from the shadow.
In a show that surprised even Ryl, the captain leapt forward, throwing his arms around Millis, clapping him repeatedly on the back.
Le'Dral beamed as he pushed back from the momentary embrace.
“I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again, my friend,” the captain admitted. The joyous look on his face reverted to its stern official pose as he eyed the newcomers. His eyes were deadly serious. “What happened? Why could you not have given me a warning?”
“I'm sorry, sir,” Millis said offering a slight formal bow. “There was no time.”
One of the shadowed figures from behind stepped forward, the features of his face illuminating as he reached the light of the lantern.
“Pardon, the interruption, sir. That was my fault, sir,” he announced with a salute. “I take full responsibility. I came to the Lieutenant as soon as I heard. His plans to dine with a small party of guards had been overheard by the councilor’s men. There was an execution planned. All were to die. They planned to barricade the doors. Guard or not, all would have been burned alive.”
“We were thankful for the unfamiliar faces manning the gate that night,” Millis continued. “The policies had become lax since the councilor took over, it's no surprise our entrance wasn't noted.”
Le'Dral let out a deep breath, the air hissing as it escaped his lips. The captain seemed to stand taller, as if the weight of a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
“You've done well, corporal,” Le'Dral said. “Your apology is unnecessary.”
The corporal flashed a quick smile before stepping back a pace behind Millis.
“How many others are with you?” Le'Dral demanded. “Where have you sheltered this last moon?”
Millis grinned back at friend and commander.
“Captain, The Stocks are not so well patrolled that five cannot remain undetected,” Millis commented. “Maklan's incompetence has bred a complacency the likes of which I've never before seen. We've moved at night and kept to the groves during the days.”
His eyes traveled from the captain to Ryl and Kaep standing a pace beyond. Millis’ eyes widened; a flash of shock ran across his face as he settled on Ryl. A small crooked grin tugged up on the corner of his lips.
“There's a face I recognize, though the boy has certainly grown,” Millis commented, his eyes catalogued the elaborate tattoos on Ryl's arms.
“I might have guessed that The Stocks hadn't seen the last of you,” Millis continued. “It’s truly good to see you again.”
Millis stepped forward, his hand extending to meet Ryl's. His iron grip squeezed Ryl’s hand for a moment before pulling him into a brief, tight embrace.
“It’s great to see you again, Lieutenant,” Ryl admitted. His heart was overjoyed by the sudden appearance of the sub-master. “It is a story that will have to wait for another time. Captain, we should make ready to move with the dark.”
Le'Dral nodded in agreement, though Ryl could see the momentary flash of annoyance at the order.
“Ryl, if you can rouse the tributes, I'll recall the guard,” Le'Dral said. “I'm sure it need not
