Page 62 of Veinblood
“Yes. For years. We’ve kept certain things hidden, while we waited for a sign.”
“What kind of things?”
“The kind that could change everything … or destroy what little we have left if it was discovered at the wrong time.” Corwin moves to the door and checks the lock.
The action tells me that whatever they’re about to share is dangerous.
“The Ashenvale Knot is the keeper of secrets. Ones we’ve had to keep from other Veinwardens.” Corwin comes back to the table, and pulls out a seat. “Please … sit.” He walks around the table and takes the remaining chair himself.
“Why would you keep secrets from your own people?” I lower myself into the chair he offered.
“Some knowledge is too dangerous to share. It only takes one person to slip. The Authority has spies everywhere. People who seem loyal to our cause but report back to them. We have learned to be careful about who we trust. With the Vareth’el alive and free, perhaps it is time.”
My thoughts go to Lisandra—a woman who was trustedwith the highest position within the Veinwarden leadership, and betrayed the very man she had pledged her loyalty to. If someone that trusted could turn against Sacha, then no one is above suspicion. The Veinwardens might share a common cause, but that doesn’t make them a unified force. Personal grievances, desperation,fear—any of these could turn an ally into an enemy.
“Time for what?”
The three Ashenvale Knot members exchange glances again, then Masha nods.
“There are Veinblood families who survived the purges.”
Chapter Eighteen
SACHA
“When words fail, silence becomes its own language.”
The Healer's Codex, ancient Tidevein manuscript
“We’re not goingto be able to stay here.” Varam’s voice is grim. “Even after we deal with this patrol, more will come.”
He’s not wrong. But where do you hide three hundred people when the Authority are actively hunting them? The caves that currently shelter us will become our tomb if we remain. Authority commanders learn from their failures, and adapt their tactics. The next force they send will be larger, and they’ll seal every exit before beginning their assault.
“Is there anywhere we can go?”
“We need somewhere that can shelter everyone. Other than Lockgap, there isn’t anywhere that could hold this many people. Even if there was another route we could take, I doubt we’d make it to Lockgap without being caught.” Frustration bleeds into his voice. “Three hundred people moving together? We’dbe spotted within hours. It was sheer chance that got us here in one piece.”
“I can use shadows to hide us. What about villages that might remember what we fought for?”
“Which villages? Even if we could find people who are still sympathetic to Veinwardens, what settlement could absorb this many people without drawing Authority attention?”
Every choice before us carries potential for a massacre. Stay here and wait for the Authority to send a force we cannot stand against. Move toward Lockgap and expose ourselves to ambush in open country. Approach a village and risk condemning innocent families to Authority vengeance.
A memory surfaces, unwelcome but insistent. A village square. The bite of warded shackles. Faces in the crowd, some curious, afraid, and filled with pity.
Greenvale.
The name brings the memory into sharp focus. The old woman who recognized me, and spoke out against the convoy’s cruelty. Voices questioning what they were witnessing, hands raised in traditional farewell as the convoy left their village. Small acts of defiance that Sereven’s soldiers didn’t expect.
But it was what happened later that matters most. The blacksmith who followed the convoy into the mountains, risking everything to bring water to my cage. His whispered explanation that I had saved his family thirty years ago, and helped hide his children when the Authority came for them.
They killed him for the compassion he showed me, but hissacrifice proved that Greenvale remembers what we fought for, what we sacrificed. One man’s courage suggests others might find theirs when the moment demands it.
“We go to Greenvale.”
Varam stares at me, the way he does when something I’ve said crosses the line between strategy and madness. “Greenvale? You want to trust three hundred lives to a place we know nothing about?”
“I know something about it. I know a man lost his life there for daring to help me. I know they are not content to live under Authority rule. There were signs that they remember when Veinbloods ruled.”
