The Defiant (The Valiant #2)

Another constable, maybe twenty paces ahead, hauled up short at the sight of his armless fellow, the look of fleeting horror on his face swiftly replaced by one of scorching fury. He brandished a short curved sword and charged at me. I braced for the impact of his blow, but it never landed. Instead, an arrow grazed past my ear and pierced his shoulder. The missile came from the direction of the docks—someone on the ship must have realized we hadn’t made it aboard yet and come up on deck to see the commotion—and it slammed into the vigile, spinning him around in a grotesque dance before he fell to the wharf, howling in pain. If Ajani’d had her proper bow, I thought, he wouldn’t be howling. He’d be dead.

Three more arrows flew in rapid succession, two of them striking flesh, and in a matter of moments, the circle of constables that had been advancing on me and Meriel had scattered in all directions. That earned us a respite to take cover behind a stack of empty wooden fowl crates. We crouched there, side by side, both of us gripping bloodied weapons and gasping for breath. I peered between the slats of a crate to see if I could assess our situation. The vigiles’ numbers had dwindled, but an alarum had been sounded somewhere, and the faint hope that Meriel and I would both make it to the gangplank unscathed suddenly vanished with the last light of the sun beyond the horizon.

The crack of a whip made us both turn back toward the merchant stalls.

I heard Meriel whisper an oath. And a name: “Nyx.”

Like winged Nemesis she came, soot-black cloak and midnight armor, thick lines of kohl circling her eyes like war paint. Teeth bared in a snarl, Nyx cracked her whip again. Her eyes scanned the deserted wharf, and she shouted for the vigiles who followed in her wake to cut off access to the docked ships. Another few moments and we would be hemmed in, with no chance of escape.

I moved to step from behind the crates, but Meriel grabbed me by the shoulder and hauled me back. “You walked away last time,” she said. “She’s not going to let that happen again. She’ll kill you.”

“She can try—”

“But she won’t kill me,” Meriel said, silencing my attempted bravado.

“Meriel—”

“Don’t be stupid, Fallon! Everyone knows—in all the ludus, there was only one fighter you never beat outright. Not without help. Nyx might not be better than you, but she knows how to beat you.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“I’m the closest thing she had to a friend at the ludus. If either of us is going to face her, it should be me. Go,” she said. “I’ll hold her off as long as I can.”

I shook my head. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Then neither of us is leaving,” she snarled. “Don’t be a fool—go!”

The sounds of shouting registered from over my shoulder, and I glanced around to see a flurry of activity onboard the ship as the sailors rushed to cast off before the vigiles could reach them. At the rail, Cai and Elka were shouting for us to hurry. And Ajani had another arrow nocked in her bow. I hesitated, turning back to Meriel.

“Go, Fallon!” she urged again. “They need you on that ship, not me. And the Lanista needs you most of all.”

“Meriel—”

“Go!”

And then she stepped out from behind the crates and calmly strode toward Nyx. With a snarl of frustration, I slammed my swords back into their scabbards. There was nothing to stop me from stepping out with her. Nothing except the thought of my sister. And the boatload of fugitive gladiatrices who’d sworn to risk their lives to help save her. Like Meriel was doing now.

“I don’t have a problem with you, Meriel.” Nyx’s voice carried to where I was still hidden.

“Yeah, Nyx,” Meriel answered. “You do.”

I heard her shout a Prydain battle cry, and I heard the crack of Nyx’s whip. Fighting every urge I had to the contrary, I turned and ran for the ship. The sailors had already cast off the lines, and the vessel was swinging out away from the jetty. I saw the gangplank teeter and fall into the water as the gap between the boat and the wharf widened. The ship rail was lined now with faces—all open-mouthed and urging me to run faster! I put my head down, arms and legs pumping, and when I reached the edge of the stone jetty . . . I leaped.

I almost didn’t make it. My foot hit the deck railing and I pitched forward, flailing wildly for something to hold on to. And then Cai was there, holding on to me. He pulled me onto the deck and crushed me to his chest. I stood there a moment, the breath heaving in my lungs, before I twisted away from him and turned back to lean out over the railing. Back on the dock, Meriel was still on her feet, still fighting. I’d marveled before at her skill—at how it always seemed like she was dancing with the retiarius gear—and if it was the arena, I would have stood there cheering. Instead, my heart was in my mouth as our boat picked up speed and we sailed away from her.

When she went down, finally, under a heap of constables, I could only stand there and watch, numb with horror. Nyx was too far away for me to see her face clearly as she stepped away from the downed girl, but I saw her walk to the very edge of the wharf and stare after our retreating ship.

I imagined her standing there for as long as I did.

I could feel her staring after me. We had not seen the last of each other, but I knew in my heart I had seen the last of Meriel. And it felt like a stone in my chest.

“You lose some along the way,” said a voice at my elbow. “It’s not your fault. But you should know, you’ll probably lose more if you keep to this path.”

I turned to see the ship’s master standing with his arms knotted across his chest, staring at me with dark eyes. Charon the slave trader. The man who’d captured me and sold me, saved me more than once, and now risked everything to help me save my sister.

“Is it the right path?” I asked.

“You’re asking the wrong man.” He shook his head. “I’m a slave trader, Fallon. I can speak to the right and wrong of a thing out of both sides of my mouth. It’s how I sleep at night.”

“They’ll follow us.” I nodded in the direction of the wharf—and the girl—we’d already left far behind. “Won’t they?”

Charon laughed a little. “They can try,” he said. “But they won’t catch us. Or have you forgotten? I have a long history of leaving ports in a hurry under cover of darkness.”

He reached out and gently squeezed my shoulder. Then he left me alone, calling softly out to his crew, who bent to his orders and guided us stealthily down the wide black river. The ship sailed on, a dark silent sea creature riding the deeper darkness of the Tiber’s waves. All around us, lamps in windows flickered like fireflies, growing fewer as we left the city far behind.

? ? ?

The vessel was manned by a sparse crew, and so Cai, Quint, Aeddan, Leander, and Arviragus were all pressed into rowing service until such time as we made it out onto the open sea and could unfurl the sails. The girls of the ludus offered to help, but Charon’s sailors were already uneasy with so many females on board, let alone ones who could handle the duties of men just as well as they could. They muttered darkly about women and bad luck, but I wondered if some of them just didn’t want to be shown up by the likes of Gratia pulling at the oars.

I said as much to her, half-joking, when I found myself standing next to her in the stern of the ship, staring back toward a Rome that had long since disappeared in the distance. Gratia didn’t laugh, but I didn’t really expect her to. Neither of us was in much of a mood for levity. Not after watching Meriel go down.

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