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Storms of the Forest Page 5
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Leni had made his way to the front now, gaining himself a clear view of Prince. He stared at my little brother and bowed deeply. “My chief, don’t let anyone tell you what to do. You are the leader, and it should be your decision how we proceed. Don’t forget you now have the power to do whatever you want, regardless of what they”—he nodded toward Father and Remington—“or anyone else says. We follow you. You don’t follow them.”
My mother shifted uncomfortably beside me, her body tensing and not liking the tune of Leni’s words. I couldn’t blame her. I could hardly fathom what it must have been like as a parent hearing someone so bluntly telling your underage child that he was free to do whatever he wanted.
Finally, I looked at Prince, anxious to see how he was reacting to this. All eyes were on him once again. He was squirming, nervous with the attention. He scratched the back of his head and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
Yet, I knew my brother well enough to see the subtle changes slowly coming over his demeanor. It was evident that something about Leni’s words had struck a chord with him. While Mother and I hadn’t exactly liked what we’d just heard, Prince did, to some degree. Despite his nervousness, it had to be empowering for him to be told how much power he now possessed.
That kind of thing would be intoxicating for anyone, let alone a boy his age who was ready to join the rebellion.
Forcing himself to stop fidgeting, Prince swallowed and straightened his slouched posture. He looked from Leni, to Remington, and then to Father before taking a deep breath. “I think,” he began, his voice sounding louder than it really was due to how quiet everyone had become. Forget a pin—it was quiet enough to hear a grain of rice drop. “I think we should wait a little while longer. The-The people . . . They might not be ready for this yet.”
We all sat silently, chewing over his words. As I stared at him, I could tell that he was the one now taking a page from Father’s book. He was trying so hard to appear brave and sure of himself. In reality, he was the one who wasn’t ready yet, and he knew it just as well as everyone else did.
CHAPTER 8
Prince sat back down, the momentary flash of pride and the display of leadership he had briefly embarked on having fizzled to an end. Nervously scratching his ear, he looked downward to the floor, his mannerism suddenly echoing the kind of reticence usually seen from Kano. All eyes were still on him, and judging from the way the reddish hue on his dark cheeks deepened, he was keenly aware of everyone’s unwavering gazes.
I looked to Remington and then to Father, wishing one of them would say something to take the unprecedented attention off my little brother. For as long as I could remember, I’ve always hated to see anything making Prince uncomfortable. When he was a baby, anytime he cried, I would resort to acting as silly as possible, even if it meant downright humiliating myself to put a smile back on his face. As a baby, he’d had the chubbiest cheeks and it always made me smile to see the way they puffed up when he laughed. He couldn’t have been more than a few months old when I decided that anything that brought a smile to his little round face was worth it. As his big sister, I had believed it was my duty to help make him happy.
If only things were so simple now. I would have given anything to simply be able to do a silly song and dance to make everything better for him. But instead, I just put my hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. The gesture seemed to bring him no comfort, though, for he continued to stare at the floor as if he hadn’t even felt it.
“I see,” Remington finally said, nodding his head in Prince’s direction. “You may be right, my chief. The prophecy has been known and whispered about for many, many years. It’s a lot to process when you suddenly find out that it has come true. That kind of news . . . maybe the people aren’t ready for it just yet.” He paused for a few seconds, bringing his hand to his chin. “Still though—we need to be doing as much as we can to prepare for the times ahead of us. No matter what, we can’t afford to idly sit around while the Kingfishers plot only gods know what against us. We have to be preparing ourselves at all times. Every second counts during times like these. So let’s go ahead and move on to the next matter at hand.”
Remington briefly looked at Leni, his expression clearly commanding the other boy to take a seat because, for the time being, the argument regarding how to best reach out to the rest of the Arnazuri community was over. Leni’s face continued to wear its trademark smugness, and it was obvious that he still had more to say. But seeing as Prince had already spoken, Leni conceded, accepting there was no more to say on the issue at the moment. With a noticeable huff, Leni sat down, although we all knew we would be hearing from him again as soon as there was something else to debate.
Pleased to see Leni cooperating for a change, Remington took a deep breath and scanned our small crowd before resuming. “As you all are well aware, the king’s army—King Henry, that is—is incredibly armed. No matter how skilled we are, bows and arrows are no match for guns and the devastation they can cause. So if we’re going to fight, we need to fight fire with fire. We’re going to need guns of our own.”
Muttering broke out amongst the crowd. It was common knowledge that only the king’s guards were allowed to use guns; they were completely forbidden everywhere else within the kingdom. There wasn’t anyone, let alone anyone in the Arnazuri tribe, who even knew how to use a gun. I was pretty sure that no Arnazuri had ever even held a gun before.
When I had first started adapting to the life of a hunter, this had always been something that bothered me.
“Hunting would be so much easier if we had guns like the royal guards carry,” I had once said toward the beginning of my hunting training.
“Get all thoughts of guns out of your head,” the instructor had said. “Royal guards are the only ones allowed to use them, so you better get used to your bow and arrow.”
I had done exactly that, of course. And over time, I completely lost interest in guns. As I became one with my bow and arrow, the mere thought of a gun started to feel crude and vulgar to me. I grew to understand that it took far more skill and poise to master the sport of archery, for it required trained vision, superb aim, and stealthy movements. By contrast, it seemed that the only thing necessary for using a gun was pointing and pressing a button; any fool could do that, which was probably why the king forbade their usage throughout the kingdom in the first place.
Granted, I knew that using a gun may not have been as simple as it seemed on the surface. Regardless, it would always be less noble than bows and arrows, as far as I was concerned. None of that really mattered, though, because desperate times called for desperate measures, and at the end of the day, bows and arrows were simply no match for guns. If we were going to stand a chance against the royal army, we would be stupid to bring arrows to a gunfight.
“Guns? And how are we supposed to go about getting guns?” Leni asked loudly, making the muttering throughout the cabin increase because everyone else was undoubtedly wondering the same thing.
Remington raised a hand to silence everyone. “I was just about to get to that,” he said. “Now as some of you know, initially, we had a Rowan on our side who worked in King’s Forest. He was going to help us get our hands on some guns so that we could start training with them. But now, thanks to King Henry’s new rules, our Rowan ally has had to leave his post at King’s Forest to return to King’s Port.” Remington paused again, his expression turning thoughtful. He opened his mouth for a second but then faltered, his eyes landing in Leni’s direction again.
Slowly, he turned toward Prince and cleared his throat. “My chief,” Remington said, “a decision has to be made about how to get those guns from King’s Forest now. Do you have any suggestions?”
Is he serious? I thought, staring back at him in disbelief. I had a feeling that I would never get used to hearing people address my little brother as “Chief,” but it was infinitely worse to hear it repeatedly coming from Remington. When he had tried to console me t
he other night with his little speech about believing in Prince’s strength and ability to become a leader, I eventually suspected he had just been uttering pretty words to reassure me and couldn’t truly believed all of what he’d said—or perhaps I just wanted to believe that was the case. I wanted to believe it was just Remington’s attempt to put on a brave face, much like my father and I had done after Kano had first made the revelation.
But now, it was hard to be sure. Remington’s expression looked far too stony and serious, especially for someone who had not long ago been voted the temporary leader of the Hawk movement. In the short time since Prince had been declared chief of the Arnazuri, it was like Remington was already willing to relinquish his power to him.
Maybe he really did believe my brother was the chosen one . . . I shuddered at the thought.
I desperately wanted to have faith in the gods and their decision—I really did.
Nevertheless, my irritation just wouldn’t subside. Prince was just a kid and there were tons of people, plenty sitting among us right now, who were better suited to be a leader than he was. Like Remington, for starters. Why hadn’t the gods selected him instead? His bravery and the way he’d been assisting the Hawk rebellion thus far was solid proof that he was made for this kind of thing. Surely, he could handle the responsibility of being the Arnazuri chief far better than Prince could.
Beside me, Prince began to squirm again. Like myself, he had been under the impression that he would be off the hook for a while, or at least for the rest of the night. Although I knew the gun situation was important, I found myself wishing the meeting had been adjourned after Prince declared that we should hold off on trying to contact the rest of the Arnazuri community for now. Yet, here he was, being called on to make another impossibly serious decision despite barely being in his teens.
Gritting my teeth, I stared at Remington, trying to figure out why he was doing this. Did he feel pressured into it under Leni’s judgmental stare? I knew that couldn’t really be the case though; never in a million years would Remington be intimidated by someone like Leni. Hence, I could only presume he was doing this under his own volition.
Still, that didn’t stop me from trying to catch his eye and silently relay to him that he needed to lay off Prince because he couldn’t handle being put on the spot like this. But Remington kept his eyes trained firmly in Prince’s direction, waiting for a reply and intentionally ignoring my stare.
Once again, the room had fallen eerily silent. Everyone waited, but Prince no longer had anything to say, and even if he did, he wouldn’t have been able to muster the courage to say it anymore. The awkward silence pressed on, and I was beginning to feel every bit as nervous as my brother. Again, I got the overwhelming desire to do something—anything—to take the pressure off him. But I was afraid there just wasn’t anything sensible I could really do.
On the other side of me, my mother fidgeted but didn’t seem to know what to do either. I silently prayed for her to intervene but quickly deduced that she wouldn’t. Annoyance at her bubbled inside of me. While she had clearly seen how much Prince had changed, I wondered if she was aware of how much she had changed too. I had never known my mother to hesitate in expressing herself when it mattered, but now, I sometimes felt like she didn’t know whether she was coming or going. I suppose I had never seen my mother so severely stressed before, at least not to this extent. As the difficult times continued, I was gathering that Mother wasn’t the type who handled extreme stress very well.
The silence had become more than unbearable by this point. I swallowed, my tongue so dry that it felt like sandpaper. Knowing that I needed to speak up on Prince’s behalf because no one else would, I stepped forward, my voice carrying loudly through the cabin. “I know someone who can help,” I announced. Everyone’s attention instantly shifted to me, including my mother’s and brother’s. My face grew hot, but I cleared my throat and continued. It was too late to turn back now. “I know a Kingfisher who works with the king’s guards and . . . I’m pretty sure he’ll be able to get us some guns. I . . . I met him through Jason. While I was at Promenade.”
Remington narrowed his eyes at me, and beside him, Father’s eyebrows shot upward.
I nodded meaningfully at Remington. “Will you follow me? I can take you to him.”
Remington stared at me for a long moment, before eventually nodding his head. “All right,” he said, “but let’s take Zane with us. He knows about a lot of secret paths and shortcuts.” He then looked back to Prince. “Of course, it is up to you, my chief. Is this all right with you if Genesis leads us to her Kingfisher friend to help us acquire some guns to train with?”
Prince nodded, his expression baffled about having to give his permission on something like this, to me and Remington, no less. He cast a quick glance at me from the corner of his eyes, looking halfway suspicious and halfway grateful for my interference.
“Thank you, my chief,” Remington said, bowing slightly in Prince’s direction. He then stood to address the rest of the room. “And thank you for your attendance, everyone. Until we gather again, this meeting is henceforth adjourned.” Everyone stood and shuffled about, preparing the leave the cabin for the day and retreat to their own spaces. Remington nodded at me. “We should leave right away, Genesis. Get yourself packed up and ready.”
Before I could say anything, Father waved his hand, beckoning me and Remington toward him. My legs feeling somewhat shaky, I made my way over. From behind me, I could feel Prince and Mother watching.
“Listen, both of you,” Father said, glancing from me to Remington. “Be careful. Stay watchful. Stick together and look after each other. Get to where you need to go, and come back in one piece.”
“We will,” Remington said.
I nodded in agreement, although I was only half listening, my mind too busy frantically working on a plan. “Well, let me . . . let me go get Dolly together,” I said absentmindedly as I began heading for the door. Before I had fully made it out of the cabin, though, I heard Father’s additional words to Remington.
“You know the risk. My daughter is wanted. I’m counting on you—trusting you—to bring her back, safe and alive.”
“I promise I will,” Remington replied stoically. “Even if it costs me my own life.”
CHAPTER 9
“Ready?” Remington said.
Standing in front of Dolly, petting her muzzle, I turned around to see Remington and Zane on their horses, packed and ready to hit the road. Although several minutes had gone by, it felt like it had only been seconds. I swallowed and nodded my head, knowing there was no use in stalling for time. “Yeah, I’m ready,” I said, although the plan in my head wasn’t entirely finalized.
“Let me know where we’re going, Genesis, and I’ll see if I know any shortcuts we can take,” Zane said.
I almost felt guilty looking at his helpful expression. I swallowed and nodded again before turning my back to him and Remington under the guise of patting Max, who nudged my hand affectionately in return. Although the poor horse was still mourning his owner, he was warming to me more and more each day, perhaps intuitively feeling that he was mine now. I pressed my forehead to his and scratched behind his ear, getting the feeling that he somehow knew I missed Jason just as much as he did.
“All right, let’s go,” said Remington. “The sooner we leave, the better. We don’t want to make this trip longer than it needs to be.”
Securing my hastily packed knapsack to my back, I mounted Dolly, all the while, trying to keep my expression neutral so that Remington and Zane wouldn’t know how frantically my mind was racing. “Just . . . follow me, for a while. I’ll . . . I can’t . . .” I paused and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Zane, but I can show you where we need to go better than I can tell you.”
Zane frowned for an instant, but then nodded. “Okay. Fair enough,” he said. He moved aside on his horse, as did Remington, permitting me and Dolly to take the lead.
Remington glanced
at me skeptically. “Since when have you had problems with directions?”
I blinked. “It’s just an unfamiliar path. Jason only showed it to me once . . . I need to . . . to gather my thoughts, that’s all. Once I see a few landmarks, it’ll come back to me.” Remington pressed his lips into a tight line. “Just trust me,” I added.
“I do,” he said, turning around on his horse. “Let’s go.”
I looked up to the sky, took a deep breath, and then gave Dolly a gentle kick to the sides, guiding her forward as Zane and Remington fell into step behind me. Shortly thereafter, we headed out toward the road, waving goodbye to surrounding Hawk members wishing us good luck and safe travels.
***
“I think I know where you want to go,” Zane said from behind me once we had been on the road for a while. I glanced back at him, seeing the way he took in our surroundings. He then proceeded to describe an area for me, asking if it was where I was headed.
“Yeah,” I said, my throat feeling tight and my heart pounding in my chest.
“Great. I know a better route to take then,” he said. “Mind if I take the lead from here?” “Sure. Go ahead,” I said, bringing Dolly to a halt. Remington stopped beside me, and I ignored him entirely, my face seeming to burn hotter with each passing second. I knew I couldn’t let this go on for much longer. And while the plan in my head had solidified, there was still the problem of how I was going to get Remington and Zane onboard without wanting to strangle me.
“Come on, guys,” Zane urged. “If we go the way I’m thinking, it should get there a lot faster, and we likely won’t run into anyone on the way. Now once we get there—Genesis, do you have a way to make sure your friend will be available to meet with us?”