A Soul for Vengeance

Chapter 2



Zara stretched out her hand, signaling for the men behind her to get ready as their boat glided through the still, moonlit waters. They’d waited weeks for the perfect night to launch their attack. She offered a quick prayer to the Lady Moon the first part of their plan had already gone into place without a hitch. If not, then she and her men were in for a fight.

The submerged paddles drew to a stop as the men powering them ceased pedaling in order to draw their weapons. Zara peeked out from under the tarp that concealed them from the Thallian soldiers and gave the last steering instructions to Parros, who sat on the opposite end of the small boat. Their hull scraped against the prison ship in Boznac’s harbor and inched closer to the rope ladder that dangled from the deck above.

Zara grabbed it and threw back the tarp, not missing Parros’s disapproving frown just before she started climbing, her fitted leather breeches allowing her to move with greater stealth than the bulky skirts she’d been forced to wear before the invasion. Let him think what he wanted. She was the leader of this mission, and that meant she’d go first.

All six of them climbed up the deck with the silence of the dead. The same silence greeted them when they surveyed the surroundings. Parros leaned in close to her and murmured, “Keep your guard up, m’lady. We both know how tricky those Thallians can be.”

The knotted scar across her abdomen burned, despite the icy cold of the winter’s night. She loaded her crossbow. “I’m never in danger of forgetting that.”

Bodies littered the deck. Two of her men fanned out, creeping toward each crumpled mass and nudging them with their boots before reaching down to check for a breath or a pulse. After they’d inspected each one, they circled back to her. “All dead.”

A weight lifted off her chest. The poisoned cask of wine she’d bribed a local merchant to send to the ship had worked. And if she found the person she was looking for, the exorbitant price she paid would be more than worth it. “Seems the Thallians liked their holiday treat.”

“Just be grateful tonight fell during their solstice celebrations,” Parros grumbled. The hardened soldier’s eyes continually flickered across the deck. “If the timing hadn’t lined up as it had—”

“But it did.” She’d learned long ago to stop thinking about “what if.” She cared only about the here and now. “Stop talking and help me find him before it’s time for the crew change.”

Five large Thallian ships sat in Boznac’s harbor, each holding hundreds of Ranellian prisoners deemed too dangerous to be forced into slavery and too valuable to kill without first gleaning some information about the kingdom’s workings. Every night just before dawn, two boats from each ship left carrying twenty soldiers. Once they reached the shore, they’d be replaced with fresh soldiers, who went back to guard the ship. Zara had studied their movements, their schedules, their faces for weeks as she waited for her plan to fall into place. And now that it was in action, she had every move choreographed down to the last minute.

She counted the bodies on the deck. “Twelve. That means there are eight below deck with the prisoners.”

Her men nodded and followed her to the stairs that lead below.

The foul stench of filth and human excrement assaulted her nose the moment she opened the door. Her stomach threatened to hurl its contents onto the deck, but she clamped her jaw tight and breathed in through her teeth until the sensation subsided. She couldn’t appear weak in front of the others. She was their leader, and nothing was going to stop her from getting what she wanted.

Two more bodies lay at the base of the stairs, both cold to the touch. Dim candles illuminated the galley, casting shadows on the hollow faces of the prisoners crammed into the cells. A few of their glazed expressions brightened as they noticed the new arrivals, but most looked as though their souls had already fled their still living fleshly confines.

A twinge of pity filled her heart as she studied their faces, hoping she wasn’t too late to find him. The rebellion needed him more than ever now that winter had settled over the beaten Ranellians. They needed a leader who would drive the invaders from their homeland and free them once again. And if he was still alive, she’d risk her last breath to restore him to the throne.

“That’s fifteen.” Parros kicked another body on the floor. “Are you certain he’s on this ship?”

She nodded. “I tracked the sword back to a prisoner on this ship. He has to be here.”

“Then I pray to the Lady Moon you’re right.”

As do I.

She continued to search each prisoner for confirmation of his identity, but they all blurred together. Same dark hair and eyes. Same scraggly beards and hair that were most likely crawling with vermin. Same gaunt frames. Same haunted expressions. Her eyes burned as she took in each one, imagining what they must have suffered at the hands of the Thallians.

“Please help us,” one of them begged, his voice hardly above a dry whisper.

“I will,” she replied, every word part of a sacred vow she’d promised to uphold, “but first I need to ensure the safety of one of our brethren. Then we’ll release you.”

After she made her way past each of the cells, a twinge of doubt crept into the back of her mind. Maybe she had waited too long.

Parros approached her with a set of keys. “I found this over there,” he said, pointing to the soldier sitting in a chair with his neck tilted back, his wide eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“That’s sixteen.” Her shoulders tightened. “Four more to be accounted for.”

“And another deck to check.”

Thank the Lady Moon.

She waited until the rest of the men joined her before venturing down into the lower level. Little had changed from the deck above, but her stomach still twisted into knots. The hair on the back of her neck rose, and her senses heightened.

A flicker of movement came from her left. She raised her crossbow, but Parros was faster. He jumped between her and the Thallian soldier, killing him with two quick flicks of his blade. He shoved the corpse back. “Seventeen.”

“And if one was still alive, there’s a good chance the last three are, too.”

The second those words left her mouth, the remaining Thallian soldiers leapt from the shadows. Their eyes were bloodshot, and their movements clumsy. They’d ingested the poison, but later than their comrades. It didn’t matter, though. Zara aimed her crossbow at the center of one of the soldiers and fired. The bolt penetrated his chest as though it was a needle piercing cloth, passing through his heart and out the other side. The man stuttered to a stop and fell flat on his back.

Her men disposed of the last two Thallians just as easily. Now the only enemy left was time.

She gathered them back in a circle. “Let me know if any of you think you’ve found him.”

They all fanned out to the cells. Zara picked apart all of the prisoner’s features. How much would this ordeal have aged him? Would he even be the same man she remembered? She was just about to call the mission a failure when her candle lit up the hazel eyes of one of the prisoners. She came closer, her heart pounding, and brushed back his hair to reveal a tiny scar on his temple.

She’d been seven the day he’d gotten it. They’d been playing with her brother, Bynn, along the ramparts of her father’s castle. He’d tagged her, laughing the whole time as she chased after him, always just out of her reach. She’d been closing in on him when she slipped on some loose gravel and tumbled headfirst into his chest. On the way down, he’d hit his head on a stone wall. Although he never lost consciousness, the gash bled like she’d opened up an artery. She’d been so terrified that she’d mortally wounded him until Cero, the healer, told her all head wounds bled like that, even the minor ones.

Now she stood inches away from the man she’d set out to find. His head was bowed, and his arms bound in chains to the ship’s wall. He was cachectic and disheveled from his months on board the prison ship, a thin resemblance to the carefree prince she’d known. The Thallians hadn’t killed him, but had they broken his spirit? She whispered his name to see if he responded. “Kell?”

A glimmer of recognition sparked in his eyes. She repeated his name, and he lifted his head. “Yes?” he croaked.

Joy surged through her being, leaking out from her eyes. “We found you! You’re alive.”

The other men rushed toward her, the keys in Parros’s hands clanging as joyfully as the bells of the grandest temple to the Lady Moon. They’d all risked their lives to find Prince Kell, and now they would be rewarded for their weeks of patience and planning.

Parros unlocked the chains that bound him, and Zara caught him as he fell forward. He was still so weak, so malnourished that if they weren’t careful, they might lose him to illness once they got him back to the shore. “Let’s get him to the boat,” she ordered.

The other prisoners cried out in protest as they passed, each demanding to be freed, too. But if she released them now, they’d stampede their way to the boat and ruin the rescue operation. She’d keep her promise, though, but only once Kell was safely on board the boat they’d bought.

Kell’s eyes were half-closed when they reached the top deck, his feet dragging behind him.

Parros frowned. “There’s no way he’ll be able to climb down, m’lady.”

“Then I’ll go down first to catch him while you and the others find a way to lower him to the boat.”

“And the others?” He glanced over his shoulder to the stairs leading to the prison cells, the keys still in his hand, his expression unreadable.

She flung her crossbow’s strap over her shoulder and stepped out onto the rope ladder. “Once we get him on board, you can give the keys to the prisoners. But make sure they don’t sabotage our mission. The last thing we need is to alert the other prison ships and have one of their cannons blow us out the water.”

The men wrapped a rope around Kell’s chest and used it to lower him into the boat. Zara caught him and dragged him to the bow of the small boat. His eyes remained half-closed, his mind drifting in and out of consciousness. She cradled him in her lap and brushed the hair out of his eyes, her heart wavering between hopeful and wary. They’d rescued the only remaining heir to the throne, but would he be the leader they needed?

Parros was the last one on board. He leveled his gaze with Zara, his mouth set in a firm line. “I did as you asked, m’lady. I just pray the prisoners will follow my command.”

Shouts rose from the other side of the hull, and her throat tightened. “Let’s get out of here now before they alert the Thallians.”

“I warned them not to,” Parros said as he pushed off. “I explained the ship was theirs, and they’d be far better off sailing away on it than trying to reach Boznac.”

“What if one of the other ships gives chase?”

Parros laughed and took his place at the rudder. “Even the Thallians know it’s suicidal to sail in winter. One good storm will sink an entire armada.”

“Then why did you send our people on such a journey?”

“I told them about the cove. If the weather holds, they’ll make it safely there by dawn.”

Zara offered yet another quick prayer to the Lady Moon for the prisoners’ safety. If the Thallians caught them, there’d be no mercy.

She pulled the tarp over their heads and gave the command to go, her stomach knotting up. At this rate, they’d barely miss the changing of the guards. The paddles under the boat whirled to life under the power of her men’s foot pedals, and the boat moved back to shore. Although she spent most of the trip keeping watch and telling Parros which way to steer, she lost count of how many times she checked Kell to make sure he was still breathing.

Once they reached their hiding spot on the edge of Boznac, they pulled him ashore and carried him inside the warehouse they used as their base of operations. Thao greeted them with a lantern and opened the floorboards that hid the entrance to the secret cellar he’d built for the rebels. A grin appeared under his extravagant moustache. “Successful, Lady Zara?”

“Very much so.” She grinned at him, savoring the first stirrings of joy in months. “Ranello finally has its king.”