Chapter 7

Iezabel's keen eyes swept around the clearing as she paced the camp, alert for any sign of intruders. The woods remained unusually calm, except for the faint watery murmur of Endor. She brushed off the snow on her hood and shoulders, cursing the skies. The cold did not affect her much, but her sodden clothes did annoy her, what with the icy condensation crawling down her skin.

She had never seen Ayana more frightened and traumatized than she had been in the presence of those accursed creatures. The vyáha had taken care of the runaway vlarik before returning to Argent, but that did not mean the threat was past them. In fact, Ayana was in more danger than ever. How those creatures had found them was still a mystery to her.

Iezabel rushed forward as Ayana emerged from her tent, stumbling on her feet as she tried to stuff them into a pair of fur lined boots. She helped her into them and forced her into a warm cloak, before wrapping a scarf around her neck.

Ayana might be tougher than most humans, but even she wasn't immune to the ailments of pregnancy. To make it worse, she was due in less than two months.

As she brushed back the loose strands from Ayana's forehead, Iezabel noticed a pale sheen on her cheeks, the dark circles under her eyes standing out in stark contrast to her countenance. Their long and arduous journey had begun to take its toll on her. Even with her inhuman recuperation, she couldn't afford to be on the run for long.

"Come, my lady. Your food is ready."

"Iezabel," Ayana whispered, her face acquiring an agitated look as she pointed over her head. "Do you see that?"

Iezabel's hands grabbed the hilt of her sword as she pivoted on her feet, eyes roving the woods and sky. Her fingers tightened when she spotted it—a thin column of smoke rising from the tree tops far south. "In the name of Avnán!"

Ayana's voice trembled. "Do you think it is them?"

Iezabel shook her head. "Vlarik don't need a fire. Could be soldiers from Aregon."

Her eyes swept the southern edge of the clearing. She shifted toward the soft crunch of dry leaves, fingers closing around the leather bound grip of her blade.

The foliage parted, and five men, all armed with bows and long swords, strode into the clearing. Clad in brown outfits, they blended well with the surroundings, making it difficult to spot them from afar. All of them wore masks and hoods.

Iezabel slipped out of her cloak and let it cascade to the ground, revealing the leather armor underneath. She extended her senses, trying to feel her adversaries. Sweet alluring scent, warm blood, and a steady heartbeat.

Humans.

Not worth their consideration, but she wasn't taking any chances, not when it came to Ayana.

She hissed under her breath and crouched, ready to pounce. If they laid one finger on Ayana…

One of them removed his mask, making a sign of truce with his hand. The others lowered their weapons and took a step back. "We mean you no harm, Ayana of Iliria. You have my word."

Long brown hair framed his face, the shadow of his cheekbones merging with the faint stubble along his jaw. Iezabel scanned his gray eyes, but couldn't detect any hostility. She pointed her dagger at him. "Are you the leader?"

The stranger inclined his head. "Zelroth Blackwood of the Resistance, Captain of the Fifth Company, Southern Command."

Iezabel scoffed. "Rebels."

"What do you want?" Ayana asked, her hand on the pommel of Zivnâr.

"The Imperial Guard is on the move," he said. "They know who you are. It won't be long before they find you." He paused for a moment for his words to sink in. "We want you to come with us."

Iezabel's eyes narrowed. "You consider us fools."

"We don't have much time," Zelroth said. "They are coming for Lady Ayana. They know she is headed to Telos."

She stiffened. That explained the vlarik. They had not found them by chance after all. She growled in frustration, nails biting into the hilt of her dagger. "How do you know that? How do they know that?" There was no way they could've known about their destination…

"Eydis," Zelroth answered. "The witch's eyes and ears extend far and wide. She knows where you're going, and so does the Emperor and rest of the Imperial Guard."

Iezabel swore.

Of course it was her. If only she could get her hands on that vile snake. She clenched her fists and glared at the rebels, barely able to contain her rage. If she sensed one hint of deception from them…

"I have nothing to do with the Resistance," Ayana stated. "Why would you want to help me?"

Zelroth shook his head. "We know as much as you do, maybe even less." He sighed at her questioning look. "We received our orders on the day before, halfway through our assignment. I'm not ranked high enough to know the specifics, but you were important enough for the Commander to give up on a convoy of weapons and supplies. He probably wants you alive for the same reason the Empire wants you dead."

Iezabel hid her relief. At least he did not know everything. She would hate to silence them all, especially in front of Lady Ayana. She did not trust them or their organization. It still troubled her how easily these men had found them. If the Resistance knew about Ayana, then the Empire definitely knew more.

"Will you come with us?" Zelroth asked. "We can offer you sanctuary from the Imperial Guard."

Ayana turned to her. "What do you think, Iezabel?" she whispered. "Can we trust them?"

"Of course we can't." Iezabel threw her an incredulous look. "It might be a trap."

"Or maybe it is not," Ayana said, careful to keep her voice down. "They certainly think of me as a potential ally. Besides, Lucien cannot hold off the Imperial Guard for too long. We might need their assistance."

Iezabel gave her a searching glance. She saw the pain and guilt in her eyes—guilt at the prospect of leaving her husband at the mercy of the Empire. But he could take care of himself. She needed to worry about her own wellbeing.

She hated to admit it, but she wasn't in a position to defend Ayana if one of the Imperial Guard showed up. They had survived the vlarik only because of Zivnâr.

"Perhaps you are right," she said. "But that doesn't mean I trust them. It is your decision to make. I'll always have your back no matter what."

Ayana nodded. "I know you will."

She turned her gaze to the rebels.

Zelroth raised his eyebrows. "Well?"

"Where is this sanctuary of yours?"

Zelroth considered her for a moment before answering. "Our hideout lies in Jedborough. It is many leagues from the town, well hidden in the folds of Arroin."

Iezabel nodded once, confirming the honesty of his answer. Whatever his Commander's intentions, Zelroth was telling the truth, or at least he thought he was.

Ayana smiled. "I apologize for our rudeness," she said, inclining her head. "We cannot be too careful with strangers."

Iezabel sheathed her dagger. "Remember, Captain. If any of you step within three yards of Lady Ayana, I'll gut you like a trout."

Zelroth inclined his head, an uncertain smile on his lips. "We'll keep that in mind."