Chapter 156

Annabelle’s threat stays with me this time, even long after she’s gone. Bethany comes to the medical ward to collect me and together with a guard we walk back to my room. I’m unusually quiet, even with my friend, my thoughts stuck on how off Annabelle sounded as she made her threats.

How very unhinged she seemed to be.

I’m not totally afraid, though I am slightly intimidated by who she might be able to pull in to help her. With those doe eyes and long lashes, she might be able to sway even the most loyal guard to her cause with the right lie.

I would have to be careful. And I should warn Bethany too.

When we finally make it back to the safety of my room, I turn to Bethany and share with her the things that Annabelle said behind closed doors.

“That is outrageous,” Bethany says. “You should tell the King.”

“I don’t know,” I reply. “Annabelle could already have a following. If Caleb lashes out against her, it could kick start the rebellion. For now, she’s at least still on his side.”

“Even as she’s plotting your demise?” Bethany says. “Harper, you can’t let her get away with it.”

“It’s not a matter of letting her get away with it,” I say. “It’s more an issue of biding my time.”

“I don’t like it.” Bethany sighs. “Things have been too dangerous lately. I’m not in agreement with Caleb tying you to the bed, but I think maybe you should stay here in your room. We’ll bar the door and stay inside until the worst is over. You have too many enemies, especially now with Hector on the loose. And who knows who the rebellion leader could be?”

Gods, what if the rebellion leader is Hector? Rubbing my forehead, I don’t even want to think about it, but I have to face it, and all possible unfortunate outcomes, else I’ll be unprepared if they come to fruition.

When I share my suspicion with Bethany, she buries her face in her hands, as troubled as me.

“Gods, that would be terrible. But it can’t be, can it? Hector ruled as a tyrant even more ruthless than Caleb. Why would people suddenly start supporting him again?”

“I don’t know,” I say, “But why would they free him if he has nothing to do with the rebellion. There has to be a link.”

“Whatever the link, I’m getting a better lock for the door,” Bethany says.

While I can deeply appreciate her desire to want to protect me, I can’t allow her to make me a prisoner as Caleb had also wanted to do.

“A locked door won’t stop the rebellion if they come here,” I tell her. “I need to be able to move around, and to help.”

“You’ve nearly died too many times.”

“We both have,” I say, eying her shoulder. She had her bandages redone since she made herself bleed, swinging that axe.

Glancing behind me, the axe is now gone, and a new bedframe has replaced the old broken one.

“I’m frightened,” Bethany admits. “For all of us.”

“We’ll be alright,” I tell her. “I don’t know how yet, but… I trust in Caleb. Somehow we’ll make it through this unscathed.”

It has taken Tristan more time than he would like to properly infiltrate the rebellion. First, he had to disguise his true identity. Then, he had to establish himself as a trusted individual who ‘hated’ the king and was looking for mercenary work.

The rebellion doesn’t offer trust easily, and Tristan has had to prove his worth by breaking into several of his King’s establishments to deface his statues and paintings.

That matter, he would make up to Caleb when it came time for Tristan to return to the fold. But not a moment before, for fear of blowing his cover.

Finally, he receives his invitation to official join the rebellion. He’s given a cloak and a special patch that he is to sew on the inside of his clothing. He is also given the location of one of the rebellion’s strongholds.

Finally, a break.

Tristan sews the patch, knowing that if he is killed, his King and country will label him a traitor. To find the answers they need to finally bring this rebellion down, he is willing to take that chance.

The night of a rebellion gathering, Tristan gathers his swords and his cloak and heads to the location of the rebel stronghold. He finds their encampment entrenched in an old, dilapidated fort in the woods. Trees and brush have reclaimed much of the old building, though some of the thick stone walls of the original fort remain.

More recently, the rebels have put up some wooden walls. Tents and campfires stretch far out into the forest.

Tristan is shocked by the sheer number of people who have joined this rebellion. If this encampment is only one of many, then they have more than just a sizeable force – they have a full-blown army.

“Welcome, brother!” says one of the soldiers, a man Tristan has come to deceive, who views Tristan as a friend. The hardest part of living undercover is making friends with people you know you will eventually betray.

But Tristan’s loyalty, as ever, unshaking, is for his King.

These men and women here are incapable of being his friends, not when they are traitors through and through.

“You’ve joined us on a good night,” the soldier says. “Our leader has graced us tonight. He is to give a speech in less than an hour.”

The leader. Perhaps Tristan’s fortunes are finally coming around. He’s been searching for the leader’s identity since his leaving the capital, and so far come up empty. Now, on his first night infiltrating the stronghold, he is to see the leader with his own eyes.

He hopes it is someone he recognizes. Else, this will be much more difficult. Perhaps he could retrieve something of the leaders to test for DNA and determine an ID.

“Come, brother. I want to be close to the stage,” the soldier says, clapping Tristan on the shoulder. “Seeing the leader in person is a great honor.”

Tristan wouldn’t mind being closer as well. Perhaps he could even meet this leader.

Perhaps, if he gets close enough, he could solve this problem with a blade to the throat.

He didn’t come here for an assassination mission, but if the opportunity presented itself, Tristan can’t rule it out.

Moving with the soldier, Tristan walks further into the hollowed walls of the old fort. Inside, some more of the rebels are talking from up above, on the remains of the towers that have yet to fall into disrepair.

Tristan scans their faces of the rebels who are positioned up higher. The speech would likely be given from that precipice. Any one of those unknown faces could belong to the leader.

“This is a good spot,” the solider says. He proceeds to make small talk with Tristan, which Tristan answers in turn. He’s good at this, pretending like he cares, even as his mind is elsewhere, plotting ahead. Moving three steps forward in his mind.

After a time, more soldiers fill in around them. Too many. Tristan starts to feel boxed in.

Then, at last, the soldiers start to cheer. The leader must be here.

Tristan looks up. Then freezes.

The man standing at the edge of the fallen tower is no stranger.

He raises his hand, silencing the uproarious crowd. With the crowd at his command, there can be no doubt.

The leader of the rebellion is Samuel, the missing Alpha of the Riverwood pack.

Harper’s ex-fiancé.