Page 225 of When Sisters Collide
She gasped, chest heaving, and found herself pressed against solid armour.
Velthur.
The world tilted as she looked up at him. His face was impassive, dark eyes steady. A few paces away, Lecne stood over Aulus’ crumpled body, a shimmering crimson blade dripping blood onto the dusty ground.
Leywani’s breath tore in ragged bursts, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. Every muscle locked tight, braced for another attack—until Velthur’s voice cut through the haze.
“Apologies for the scare,” he said, his tone unaffected by the fact that a man had just been cut down before her. “Lecne needed a distraction so we could get rid of him.”
Leywani stiffened.We?Velthur had killed his own man?
She tore herself away, eyes darting between the two soldiers. Her mind reeled, struggling to make sense of what had just happened. Fear still clawed at her chest, tangled now with confusion.
“What—what is going on?” she choked out.
Velthur ignored the question, turning to Lecne. “Get the boat.”
Lecne gave a curt nod, and before Leywani’s very eyes, the bloodied blade in his hand vanished like smoke. A Gift. She had no chance to take it in before he disappeared into the brush.
Meanwhile, Velthur grabbed a saddlebag, unfastened its clasps, and pulled it free. Then he thrust it towards her.
“Here. Take this.”
Leywani stared, wide-eyed, making no move to accept it. “What… what is happening?”
Velthur’s breath came short and impatient. “I’m saving your life. Try to keep up.”
He shoved the bag into her arms, but the weight barely registered. Her head shook in disbelief. None of this made sense.
Velthur was the captain of the Tarquinian Guard. He was violent. Merciless. Loyal to the Emperor.
…Wasn’t he?
Her grip on the bag tightened as she forced herself to look at him. “I don’t understand.”
“And we don’t have time for you to,” Velthur said, slinging another bag over his shoulder. With a firm grip on her wrist, he steered her towards the water, where Lecne was already dragging a small fishing boat free from the reeds. The wooden hull scraped against the stones as he pushed it into the river.
“This river flows west, towards the Falcons Tribe’s territory,” Velthur continued, his tone brisk. “Follow it far enough, and you’ll reach the border of the Western Lands, where the Rodanos River runs. The gods will let you cross.” His dark eyes flicked to Lecne, who moved in the background, securing the saddlebags onto the boat with quick, efficient movements. “He speaks the Western tongue. He’ll help you.”
Leywani glanced between them, each revelation stacking higher, leaving her drowning in questions with no time to breathe.
“Help me with what?” she asked.
Velthur fixed her with a steady stare, the kind that demanded attention and made it impossible to look away. “Volcos, the Chief Commander of the Western Tribes, is in the Falcons’ territory. That’s where you’ll find the Achaean rebels—and Alena.”
Her breath caught.Alena.
And Velthur was sending her straight to her. Hope unfurled in her chest.
Before she could speak, he pulled a scroll from his belt and pressed it into her hands. “Give them this.” His tone was urgent. “Soon, the legions will coordinate an attack—one from the Green Mountains Tribe’s hillfort in the north, another across the river to the east. And they’ll bring Katell.”
The hope that had sparked within her withered in an instant.
Suddenly, everything clicked into place. Velthur wasn’t just sending her away—he was sending her to warn them.
She swallowed hard, gripping the scroll. Beside them, Lecne unclasped his purple cloak and breastplate before changing into a set of colourful patterned clothes.
“Tell them what happened on the battlefield,” Velthur murmured. “Tell them about the Makhai.”
