To Defend A Bride (Entangled with the Enduar #3)

Chapter 31

Chapter 31

RA’SA

I t takes longer than usual for the giants to count the logs. We wait there, listening as they call out numbers and make notes. In the last week, nearly a hundred men have been executed in front of us. We've gritted our teeth and bore the back-breaking weight. Tonight, the air is tense as we wait for them to call out the ones who will be sent to die.

Instead, one of the warriors steps in front of us and cracks his neck.

“No racks. Now get back to the slave pens."

For a second, everyone stood there, frozen.

"Now!" he roared.

The men around me start to run, and I follow.

Melisa, I say excited.

I feel her listening.

No deaths tonight.

Melisa’s shock and pain skitter across my skin… Did she know how bad things were?

I… thought that would stop with Eneko gone. How many were killed? Her question is tentative as she braces herself.

I remain silent for a moment, opening the wound in my chest.

Perhaps a hundred.

And the poisonings, do they continue? she asks. I feel… anger on the other side of the bond. Hatred.

Yes, though not as frequently.

Melisa’s presence slips away, leaving behind the metallic taste of her rage. I let her go, grieving the events of the last few days myself. As we pass the halfway point back to the den, Nicolás appears at my side.

"Can you believe it? They realized they still need men to chop," he says excitedly.

I nod, still feeling uneasy. After a long day of work, I can only think about Melisa. There's been so much death and loss, the only place I wish to be is at her side.

Nicolás seems to take the hint that I'm not very talkative because he starts to drift away. I didn't think it would take so little to sink into my old habits, but I am a sullen creature.

The night drags on, through dinner, and then as I wait for the others to sleep. When the snores begin to sound all around me, I rise and prepare to go to see my woman.

Stepping silently through the rows of men, I make it outside the door only to be restrained by a pair of hands.

My cry of surprise is silenced when a tall human wraps his hands around my head, covering my mouth. I break free, but four men latch on and hold tight.

One of the men at my side punches me in the gut. I bend forward. I thrash against them as they haul me behind the den and into the forest.

"Cálmate," ? 1 Rodrigo commands, stepping out from behind one of the massive elms. His head tilts to the side as his lips pull back into a sneer. "Or do you not understand that word?"

I glare at him until they release their grip on my mouth.

"I know the human tongue fine," I spit back.

His long hair falls in his dark eyes as he searches my face. "Perhaps. But it was learned recently. I hear your accent in every syllable.” He looks behind me. “Alberto, Felip, ven ? 2 . ”

The man at my back walks forward, and Rodrigo jerks his head toward me.

The one called Alberto cracks his knuckles and stretches his wrists. Then he pulls out a makeshift knife with a broken handle from inside his soiled shirt. It glints in the moonlight.

“You will start telling us the truth, or there will be consequences," Alberto says.

I open my mouth, but he holds out his hand and gives a firm shake of his head.

"No. I ask the questions. You answer," he continues in the common tongue.

I contemplate slaying the five of them right here. They aren’t what I would call good men, but they know something about the rebellion. They might be my best chance to get humans out of Zlosa.

I decide against it just as Rodrigo asks, “I will ask you plainly: do you work for the giants?"

I grit my teeth. "No."

"I saw you visit the foreman's comfort woman while she was in the pit. Do you fuck her?"

I snarl. "No."

The men hold me back tighter, but Rodrigo smirks at my strong reaction.

He chuckles. "What are you?"

For a moment, I keep my lips sealed tight, refusing to dignify any of his crass words with an answer.

"I've come to help," I say at last.

Rodrigo continues to look at me with his shrewd expression. "You really have, haven't you?"

I nod firmly.

He bites his lip. "Rest assured, there is a spy among us. I was sure it was you. Your relationship with the slut would've solidified that for me?—”

My muscles tense. I reach deep into my magic. A tremor rumbles underfoot. I break out of the mens’ grasp. Alberto tumbles over, too, and I grab Rodrigo, pinning his arm behind his back.

"If you want me to let you all live, I suggest you stop saying cruel words. They’ve passed your lips too many times."

Rodrigo's tries to look back at me. "Protective over her? Why?"

"It doesn't matter. Does it?" I yank his arm up, almost to the point where his joint pops.

Rodrigo huffs. “ Hostia, ? 3 no. Let me go, you crazy bastard!”

I do, roughly pushing him away.

Rodrigo looks up at me, angry but he doesn’t attack.

“You started smelling poison when no others can. The giants can’t do that. You don’t have yellow eyes like them, nor do you have the large feet their half-breeds sport. I tried to write off your chopping as a giant trait. But it’s something else, I know it. How many did you help cut today?"

I grit my teeth. "Ten."

Rodrigo lets out a soft whistle, rubbing his arm. “I think you should follow me.”

He walks away, deeper into the trees. I continue after. There's a dipping feeling in my stomach, but I don’t stop.

Rodrigo wanted to go drinking before, and now he’s taking me into the woods to talk... He’s a part of the rebellion.

Strange. He seems the most territorial, determined slave. The giants typically leave his gang alone. They are hard workers.

Was that all a front for something more?

Time passes slowly as we walk through a narrow path. One of Rodrigo's men brushes a long, feathery branch behind us, protecting our tracks from being left in the snow. Trees allow slivers of moonlight to slip through as we continue forward. When we reach a small, abandoned building, all of my suspicions are cemented.

As we walk inside, there are a few chairs scattered around the moldering cottage. Rodrigo pulls one out and points for me to sit down.

I do.

"Is your name really Rasa?" one of the men asks.

I chew on my lip.

"In a sense. But again, that's not important. What is important is what you are doing here?" I gesture broadly around me.

Rodrigo purses his lips. "You should've come drinking."

I raise my eyebrow, and he continues.

"If you would've joined us, you would've met groups like us all over Zlosa. All committed to one thing—the freedom of the slaves."

I let out a long breath.

"That is good news. I was starting to think you all were a myth," I say.

While it is a good thing to find the rebels, did it have to be them ?

Rodrigo shakes his head and laughs bitterly. "We may as well be. It is not easy to get people interested in our cause."

"How long have you been working?"

"Years. Planning in the shadows and trying to find a way out. Admittedly, things have escalated since that human ran away with a breeding pen full of women. Her time here inspired lots of emotions among the slaves—confusion, anger, but most of all, the promise of some sort of sustainable life outside of Zlosa. I believe it was that firm, tangible vision that moved everyone to action. Especially after we saw how the elves panned out," another man says.

I adjust my sitting position and look out the broken window briefly before asking, "What happened with the elves?"

"We used to believe we could escape to their realm, but now we know. Since the giant and elf kings have allied themselves, I’m sure that any humans who made it to the elven kingdom were not saved."

I nod.

"You're one of them —the trolls—aren't you? I thought you were blue?" another man says.

“I am here to help. So, tell me your plan,” I propose, ignoring the question.

The air is thick with tension, and the others go eerily silent. Rodrigo smiles.

"That's what I want to hear," he says. Then he stands.

“Where are you going?” I demand.

“To tell the others it’s safe to come,” Rodrigo starts.

As I wait there, Melisa’s voice enters my head.

Are you well?

Half my mouth quirks up. So timid.

I caress the bond with my thoughts, encouraging her as gently as I can muster.

I've been called away to a meeting. I will come to you after.

There's a pause and then a strong burst, A meeting? What meeting?

At that moment, sound from outside the cottage filters in—the sound of footfalls on soft snow crunch and buzz in my ears. Not a few moments later, another head pops into the cottage before swiftly shutting the door.

Some men incline their heads to the newcomer. I can make out his thick, gray hair and stocky build. He has the same wiry strength that most men who work in the yards have, but he has a slight haunch. Not to mention, he limps when he walks.

He takes his place next to a few other men, not acknowledging us as the door opens again. Two more men filter in.

Still, we wait in silence.

It takes several more men entering the room—to the point of bursting—for someone to finally speak. Nine slaves are gathered around me when Rodrigo returns to the center of the building.

"You all asked to meet the new slave, so we've brought him," he says in the human tongue, voice low.

A flint stone sparks, lighting the end of a well-oiled rope. They hold up the simple lantern in front of me, trying to show my face.

I am still in my human form, but I tower over them.

"You're a godsdamned tree,” one of the men says under his breath. “Are you sure you have no giant blood?”

“Yes,” I grumble.

A few others nod, but the man with gray hair narrows his eyes.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, but I still don’t understand. Why do you want to help us?" he asks.

I purse my lips.

My father taught me about duty—that's a fine answer. But it runs deeper than that. These men don't need to know the sweetness of matehood and how I long for the songs that mine and Melisa’s crystals will sing back in Enduvida.

They also do not need to know what I feel when small hands wrap around my fingers, relying on me for food and comfort. Daughters that I’ve only met recently. The innocent beings who need me to get out of here and have a better life.

These things are more precious than all the gems and gold in Enduvida, but there is something that is the culmination of all—something invaluable. I have found a purpose.

They say you tend to solve your problems by helping others solve theirs. I supposed that was much of what it was like for me to move on from one attitude to another.

Looking at the men in front of me, I meet their eyes, hoping they see the determination behind my lack of words.

"I believe in the cause of the humans. Staying in Zlosa a second longer than necessary is a mistake for all of us. I also believe the giants should pay for everything they have done," I say at last.

A few of the men begin to murmur. I feel the weight of their judgment as they watch me.

"Yes, he's not one of us. He merely looks it," Rodrigo says, answering a comment I didn’t quite catch.

"Then you must be a troll, disguised somehow," the gray-haired man says.

I angle my body toward him. "A troll on giant land would be executed immediately."

"Rasa is your name, no?" he says, speaking in the common tongue with a thick accent.

I nod.

"They call me El Lobo ,? 4 " he continues. “Yes, that is my real name. When I use it in front of you, I trust you with my life. You could take such a name and blab it to the giants, and I'd be hoisted up in front of the slave pens with a pike up my ass."

I grit my teeth.

"The slaves in Zlosa are split. It wasn't that long ago that everyone started to whisper about troll caverns and some human queen who came to save us all. Those rumors became legends overnight when she succeeded at getting a few dozen women to escape."

The room around me is quiet, but a man to the left of El Lobo continues.

“I am called Tomás. And he's right. You see, against all reason and logic, when we heard about that human queen, many of us believed she would send someone to help. We think that someone is you."

I take a few deep breaths, considering. These men have proven their willingness to share themselves with me.

To this point, what has kept my mouth sealed has been the possibility that they will kill me, and Melisa will be left alone. There's no existence where I can let that happen.

But... Eneko returns soon. We need to leave, and the king and queen had tasked me with the challenge to bring back as many humans as possible.

Even more so, I want that. I want Abet and Nicolás to see Enduvida and feel freedom away from tall trees and endless chopping.

"I was born sixty-three summers ago, but my people age very differently from yours. I was young when my old king destroyed half of our lands, but I still managed to save my family from the lava that rushed through the valley. I come here now, knowing that Zlosa will soon be destroyed."

The silence that descends is felt in the depths of my bones.

"I've personally witnessed how they treat you, and I've worked until my bones ache to help as many survive as possible. I will help fight that all of you will break free from this life."

For a minute,the silence persists. And then one of the men shakes his hand.

"Then we agree. We riot."

Riot.

In my head, I see mattocks, axes, and whips turned against the giants. I see the mighty force of men capable of fighting back against a monstrous enemy.

"The stories about trolls were untrue, weren't they?" El Lobo asks hesitantly.

I huff a bitter laugh. "We are strong, but we are not needlessly cruel. Not anymore. And we never ate your kind.”

Rodrigo comes forward and claps his hand on my shoulder as if we had somehow become friends. As if he'd never said any of the awful things I'd heard him say about Melisa.

"When exactly do you intend on rioting?" I ask.

The men look up at me, but Rodrigo pulls up one of the floorboards and pulls out a stained length of cloth. Slowly, he spreads it on the ground to reveal a map etched across the graying color with soot.

“The plan is next week. The giants have killed so many of us that they aren't watching as closely. They think our spirit has died."

One man snickers, then pulls out a bottle of something strong-smelling and takes a swig.

“Por la libertad,” ? 5 he whisper-shouts .

The others repeat the chant in hushed tones.

When the small bottle is passed to me, I smell it and take a drink, ignoring the uncomfortable burn in the back of my throat.

"How does this start?" I ask.

One of the men with a long, scrawny face grins, revealing several missing teeth. "With fire."

"For the last year, we've been storing animal fat and stealing cloth. In another location, we have two dozen barrels ready to be lit up. We can start putting them at the gates, holding them in the slave pens, but lately, we’ve had a new development.”

“Go on," I start.

Several of them glance between each other, but it is El Lobo who clears his throat.

“The giant lords don’t like the new king,” he says.

My ears perk up. This was one of the things Teo wanted us to uncover.

“Why not?” I ask.

El Lobo shrugs. “We don’t align ourselves with any giants, but Tomás has connections. Rholker’s own advisor, Fektir, is planning to jam a spear up his ass and put him on display.”

Gods.

“When?”

“Soon. Next week. The king hasn’t fled yet, but he might. That’s why it would be the perfect time to strike back, when he’s worried about dissent from within,” Tomás interjects.

I nod, listening as they explain how it will be the fastest way for everyone to escape from the dens, but they pause when I shake my head.

"If you put them in front of the gates, it will be too predictable. It won't take long for the giants to catch on and send reinforcements. It will be a massacre."

Rodrigo frowns. "I'll remind you that we've been working on this for some time. Our plan has been carefully considered."

I shake my head, placing my finger back on the soot-stained cloth. "What if... you put all the barrels in one location. Somewhere important. Make such a big fire so that everyone will go there. When all of the giants are there, they will leave the gates open. You won't get all the slaves out—only a few hundred to a thousand or more. You're going to need a plan with more longevity."

The men around me are silent, but El Lobo laughs. "You have a good head."

"I think you should put the barrels in the soldiers’ barracks. Do it at midnight, cause a huge stir."

"And then what?"

Everyone watches as I point to the map, as I gesture around. It's not dissimilar to the map that Melisa drew for me when I first came to Zlosa. I look at it with fascination.

"Get as many humans out as possible. Spread the word," I continue.

It sneaks up on me. I'm not a man prone to feeling a certain type of way about those who have passed on, but I know, deep in my bones, as sure as the moon shines on my face, that my brother would be proud of this choice. He would rejoice in how he’s seen me work with humans, helping them, ushering them forward into a new era.

"What about those left behind?" they ask.

I look at them. "You're right. What if... before we start to light things on fire, we weaken them? Poison their food supply to make them ill, not dead.”

Several pairs of eyes go wide.

"We harvest and butcher most of their food,” Tomás says.

"Then it wouldn't be too hard,” I reply. “Start in a few days.”

"And for those who are still left behind after the fire?" Rodrigo chimes in.

"We’ll run before they can catch us.”

The men look at me with a ferocious hope shining.

“So?” I start. “In a few turns of the sun, you start to poison."

"And next week? We burn!" El Lobo dares to raise his voice.

A chill coats my skin as I consider their words. Eneko is meant to return around that time. If we do this, he’ll never touch Melisa again.

The rest join in with a silent salute, lifting their fists.

As I study the plan before me, I think of the men I've come to know. I cannot wait to tell Melisa of everything—that we may also plan out the next few weeks. If all goes well, we'll be back in Enduvida soon.

The meeting draws to an end, and we all move out of the run-down cottage.

The thought of Melisa being safe and at home at last has my heart bursting with a sweet kind of calm.

We need to send a message to the king and queen, I murmur through the bond.

Melisa responds with a gentle hum, but says nothing more.

It takes me little time to sprint back to my hiding place to retrieve the speaking stones. A part of me is proud. We’ve worked hard this last month.

The rebellion’s plan is neatly set, and I have a family. A lightness bubbles in my veins, and something akin to warm water washes over me.

My bond.

I look down.

It’s… alive. My human form seems to interrupt our mating song, but right now, it blasts against my eardrums. I stumble against a tree when a new wave rolls through me. This time, I catch hold and identify the intense emotion.

Desire.

“Melisa,” I growl, just quiet enough for the others not to hear.

For all her secrecy and talent at hiding herself from me, she couldn't hide the ripple of want heating my blood. I had planned to go to her tonight, but the need for her is as strong as the forces that hold the stars in the heavens.

I arrive at that small room at the back of the house of a giant I wish to slay—a pitiful room for what she deserves. It's merely a fraction of what I will give her and her daughters when we return to Enduvida.

I stop in my tracks when her voice enters my mind.

Ra’Sa, she moans through the bond.

I go still. But molten heat churns and flows through my body. my chest heaves. Her voice like that… that sound wakes something inside of me.

I want her to say my name like that again. I want to hold her, to strip away her clothes, and sink into her.

I hiss as a white-hot pain sears across my neck. It isn’t midnight, and I haven’t shifted, but I am almost sure if I were to look in the mirror, I would see two small, glowing dots.

Mating marks.

What on the gray, stony earth is she doing?