Page 2 of Stolen Fates
Alena fell silent. Katell wasn’t being cruel, but her sister simply couldn’t understand the appeal of distant unknown lands where men and women could wield magic and accomplish incredible feats. Where they had the freedom to do as they wished, rather than listen to a group of elders and their archaic laws.
“Maybe she’s hoping to meet a Gifted hero.” A mischievous glimmer lit up Leywani’s eyes. “I caught a glimpse of those muscled men in armour on some Achaean red vases, and suddenly their appeal became much clearer to me.”
Katell let out a snort. A flush of heat rose to Alena’s cheeks and she lunged at Leywani. The girl darted out of the way with a squeal, then ran to hide behind Katell. Alena jumped left to catch her, but Leywani was too quick and laughed even harder.
“Just because you’re obsessed with boys doesn’t mean we all are!” Alena huffed, lifting her braid from the back of her neck. The day was too hot to be running around. “And the scrolls don’t have any drawings at all.”
“Well, speaking of scrolls…” With a dramatic pause, Leywani slipped a hand beneath her cloak and fiddled with her belt underneath. “I found this.” She retrieved a roll of parchment tiedwith string. It was the kind that came from the Old Lands, its edges weathered and frayed.
Alena’s eyes widened. Where had Leywani found it?
Katell cast a swift glance around, but no one else was present on the outskirts of the camp. The only discernible company they had were the goats and their pungent smell permeating their surroundings. Most of the camp families had already gathered at the central square to welcome the suitors.
“Where did you get that?” Katell hissed.
Leywani’s lips curled, her face radiating with satisfaction as she casually leaned against the wooden fence, basking in the moment. “Father was tasked with helping Elder Ignatius do some inventory, and he must have brought it home by mistake. I was cleaning around our tent and stumbled across it.” She gave it to Alena with a wink. “Here you go. Enjoy. Hopefully, it’s something fun to read and not a list of grain supplies like the last one you found.”
Katell arched a brow, unamused. “Ley…”
Their friend waved a hand. “It’s fine. Just bring it back when you’re done.”
Alena pulled at the string, but her sister plucked the scroll from her grasp and stuffed it down her tunic. “Not here. Open it at home.”
“Oh,” Leywani continued, tapping a finger against her chin, “I also heard that the latest refugee family who arrived two days ago by cart had some interesting artefacts with them.”
Alena perked up. “Really? What kind?”
Behind her, Katell clicked her tongue against her teeth, but her sister didn’t fool her. Although Katell pretended not to be interested in their father’s tales, she still listened to them and often asked about the Rebel Queen—the Western warrior queen who’d gathered an army and marched against the Rasennan Empire that had threatened to conquer her lands.
“Some vase depicting women in armour, apparently.”
Alena almost squealed. “Amazons?! By the Moon, I have to see it. Where was it stored?”
“In the storage tent where they keep all the blankets.” Leywani straightened up from the fence, mirroring Alena’s eagerness. “I can show you.”
Katell shot her a sharp look. “Ley, stop encouraging her! You’ll get her in trouble with the elders. Besides, we need to go. The guests are almost here.”
She grabbed Leywani’s arm and they headed back to camp. With a resigned sigh, Alena trailed after them.
Camp Bessi was comprised of rows of goat-skin conical tents, all draped in furs, and haphazardly arranged around a bustling central square. Already, a crowd had formed to welcome the riders. Men, clad in riding leathers and fur-trimmed tunics, marched solemnly from the stables to the elders’ pavilion in a single file. As they passed, a palpable buzz of excitement rippled through the square, whispers spreading amidst the onlookers. It was customary for the potential suitors to gather with the Council in the pavilion where they would eat and share news from each of their camps before meeting their brides the next day.
Damocles’ tall frame stood out among the Council members, his blond hair shining like a beacon. His friend Demetrius, another councilman, joined him and they welcomed the guests.
Alena’s father assessed the suitors, his keen gaze sweeping over each man as they entered the pavilion. They were all strangers to Alena, but she was surprised to see as many young men as old ones, some older than her father.
“They look awful,” Alena said bluntly.
Katell hummed in agreement while a nearby woman shot them a disapproving glance.
Each year, the whole camp was completely engrossed with the suitors’ arrival, the central square overflowing with families despite the summer heat. Alena observed the assembled crowd and in a moment of clarity realised it was the perfect opportunity to slip away, unnoticed. She knew the storage tent Leywani had mentioned. She could seek out the artefacts, take a peek, and then head back home before anyone was any the wiser.
“I’m going to find Octavia,” Alena told Katell, knowing the mention of her only friend at camp would stop any unwanted questions. “I’ll meet you back home.”
Katell nodded, her attention still captured by the suitors. “Don’t be too long, and don’t talk to—”
“—any outsiders,” Alena finished, already pushing her way through the sweltering crowd. “I know!”
Sweat trickled down her temples as she navigated through the dense throng. When she finally escaped the crowd and reached the first line of tents, she hastened her pace, anticipation growing within her. Thankfully, the rest of the camp seemed deserted, and she had no trouble reaching the storage tents and locating the specific one with the fur blankets. Her pulse quickened at the thought of what she might discover hidden within and, after untying the flaps, she entered.
