For the Rebellion

Chapter 8 - A Kiss For Freedom

I took a single, deep breath, holding it in to the count of five, then exhaling. My thoughts centered, my focus narrowing to a single thought. We must prevail.

"Your orders, Lady Mask?"

"We came all this way," I decided. "We don't have a choice."

"Agreed," he said. Our voices were hushed.

From my hiding place, I gave the sawmill one last glance, then turned to my team of operatives. I couldn't see most of them, but they could all see me. Edric caught my gaze a final time. I nodded, then gave him the signal. He relayed my order down the line.

My heart kicked up in my chest, boom-boom-boom, as our first wave of operatives swept from the shadows. A cry went up, echoing into the quiet night. The mercenary guards sprang into motion. The sound of metal rang out, weapons meeting. I flinched.

"Give the signal now, Lady Mask," Amelina said.

"Right. Yes." I peeled my eyes away from the sudden chaos taking place on the outskirts of the sawmill's work yard and turned to Russell. He struck a flit stone and a spark leapt to the oiled rag wrapped around my arrowhead. It burst into flame. I pulled my bowstring taught, gauged the distance I'd need up river, then lifted my bow, pointing it towards the sky.

I released. The flame shot straight into the sky, arching up high before sailing downward and disappearing upriver. Good. That would tell our barge upriver that we'd begun. It would take them thirty minutes to reach us.

Thirty minutes.

It felt like a lifetime. But a lot could happen in a lifetime. And a lot could especially happen in thirty minutes.

I grabbed another arrow and turned to Amelina. "Are you ready?"

"Aye, my lady."

"Russell, guard her with your life. If anything happens to her..."

"I will, Lady Mask. You have my word. Come, Lady Amelina." He led her away, into the fray, to doge guards so that she could get into the wood stores and began overseeing the collection of uncut wood we'd need to gather.

I climbed up on the pile of storage crates sitting on the outskirts of the work yard, took aim, and fired at a lone mercenary guard. The arrow went clean through his abdomen. He looked down at it before charging forward. I already had another loaded. I fired. This, through his throat. He fell to his knees, then collapsed—

A bellow and a bright flash of dragon fire came from above.

My heart stopped. I caught sight of the creatures. Five drengr circling high above.

For a moment, I was frozen, unable to process their appearance. I had just an instant of shock before it turned to betrayal, though the emotion didn't make any sense. They dove.

"No," I cried.

Immediately, another arrow was in my hand. I found my target easily in the darkness, a gleaming, golden body that looked utterly terrifying in the night, talons outstretched. I let loose an arrow. "Aim for the dragons!" I cried to the five other archers scattered around the perimeter.

It didn't matter. Our arrowheads glanced right off their scales, clattering to the ground. Gods! We were going to be slaughtered.

My operatives began screaming as two of the dragons went into a nosedive. "Retreat!" I cried. This wasn't worth our lives. We were bandits, not warriors. "Retreat!"

Our operatives scattered, taking off in all directions.

"Oh, gods," I gasped. Three of the drengr morphed as they landed, becoming human before their boots struck the ground. "Amelina!" I was crying out and running before I could think better of it. I shot across the sawmill's outer yard, towards the storage paddock, dodging the chaos of retreating bodies. Some of the mercenary guards were still locked in combat, unwilling to let their opponents retreat.