Page 17 of Stolen Fates
The midday sun bore down upon him as he sat back against the hard wooden plank of the rocking wagon. The shepherd had skirted the Empire’s outposts, following a well-trodden path without ever coming too close to the legion camp that sullied the valley—which suited Leukos. He needed to keep a low profile more than ever now that he was alone. He hoped Theo and the other rebels had found their way to the camp the scouts had setup north of Eluvia. If he’d had any faith in the gods, he’d have prayed night and day for Nisos.
Leukos had been the one to start the Megarian rebellion after Rasennan soldiers had killed his family. He’d spent the following years gathering support from scattered warriors and Achaean allies, but Nisos had been part of the king’s personal guard—a Silver Shield. He held more knowledge about military strategy than Leukos’ twenty years could ever hope for. And he wasn’t the only one. Pelagios, a brawny warrior with a thick beard whom Leukos had known his whole life, was also a Silver Shield who’d joined the rebellion.
Both men had fought the legions their whole lives and knew how and when to strike at them. Nisos had been the one to plan an attack against a legion mining camp where they’d rescued Elishat, one of the rebel scouts. He’d mapped out their route through a heavily patrolled Achaea as they met their allies in secret. And it was also Nisos who’d known how to evade the Blood Wolf.
Nisos’ latest ploy had consisted of switching clothes with Leukos to confuse the tracker’s wolves and their sense of smell. They’d gone their separate ways, Leukos heading north through the Thracian mountain passes while Nisos followed the Dalmatian coastline. With any luck, the Silver Shield had lured the Blood Wolf and then managed to evade him. If anyone could outwit the Rasennan tracker and his wolves, it was Nisos.
Even as doubts about the rebellion’s prospects clouded his thoughts, Leukos had little choice but to find his way back without getting caught. For better or for worse, he was their leader, and he had vowed to bring down the Emperor. The ghosts of his past would not rest until they were avenged.
The cart ascended a ridge, and a glittering river came into view below, winding through the valley where clusters of woodenhuts nestled. Men and women milled about the golden fields surrounding the villages while others tended to cattle.
The mules made their way down the narrow dirt path, halting upon their arrival at the nearest village. Leukos grabbed his satchel, checked his sword hidden beneath his cloak, and hopped off the back of the cart.
The farmer’s daughter, Cora, jumped down to meet him while her father remained seated, reins in hand.
“You could come with us.” She closed in on Leukos, hope shining in her light brown eyes. “Our home is only another day’s ride. You could rest for a while before continuing your journey.”
Her silent invitations had grown less and less subtle with each passing day, but he’d ignored her as he did with most women who approached him. If they knew the horrors that plagued his dreams, would they still smile so prettily at him? Would they try to engage him in conversation with hidden intentions?
When he didn’t answer, she reached out to touch his arm, but he pulled away.
“Thank you for the offer, but I can’t afford any detours,” he said. “I’m still a long way from Eluvia.”
He’d spun an all-too-common tale of travelling to rejoin a distant family in the west after his village had burned down in Thracia.
Her expression fell. “Oh… so won’t we see you again?”
“Cora.” The shepherd shifted in his seat, his sharp gaze taking in the exchange between them. “It’s time to go. We’re losing the light.”
The girl pouted but did as she was told and hopped back onto the bench beside her father.
“Goodbye, Chrestos,” she said. It was the fake name he’d chosen to give them. Then, leaning forward, she added in a softer voice, “May the Messenger guide you on your travels.”
Thankfully, no one else was close enough to hear them. The Empire had outlawed any mention or worship of the Achaean Twelve, under threat of punishment.
Leukos nodded, thanked the shepherd for his aid, and headed to the village for a meal. After paying a blacksmith a hefty sum for a sturdy mare, he set off north. He followed the river winding its way between the mountains like a snake. It would take him not far from the Noricum province, then west to Eluvia.
Days of travel on horseback lay ahead before Leukos reached his destination, but he didn’t mind the solitude. After all, since the morning that plagued his dreams, he’d been alone most of his life.
Two days later, he was being followed.
Deep within the woods, a horse whickered in the distance. Twice.
It had been close enough that the nearby waters of the river hadn’t quite drowned out the sound. He’d thought the Blood Wolf had caught up to him at last, but he’d seen no sign of wolves and without a doubt, the tracker would have sent them first.
If an enemy was following him, he had to deal with them now in the forest while they were alone to avoid being seen by passing patrols.
Leaving his mare to drink by the river’s edge, Leukos climbed up a sturdy oak tree, with branches thick enough to support his weight. Each gnarled knot and groove provided leverage as he ascended until he reached a height where the trail came into clear view. Among the dense foliage concealing him, the air carried the crisp scent of early summer leaves.
In quiet anticipation, he waited until a chestnut horse emerged from between the trees, bearing a woman. She was dressed in riding leathers, adorned with the pelt of a leopard upon her shoulders. Two sheathed daggers dangled from her belt, while a bow was slung across her back.
She stopped a few paces in front of the oak tree and glanced right up at Leukos.
He gritted his teeth. How had she spotted him so easily?
Upon further inspection, the woman seemed to be twice Leukos’ age, and a bandage covered one of her eyes. The other one seemed to glitter with an ethereal light, like a star in the night sky.
Only one type of female warrior had Gifted eyes that shimmered a pale silver—Amazons. Their patron goddess, the Huntress, Gifted them all with the same glittering eyes that gave them formidable skill in combat. Leukos still remembered all the facts he’d learned about them as a child. Memories from a time untainted by death and ruin.
