The Defiant (The Valiant #2)(57)
But it would have to wait.
Not far from where we landed, there was a river that emptied into the bay. The rich soil it carried down from the hills stained the pale beach sand, marking the place where fresh water met sea, and that was where we would begin our trek up into the forest of pine and cedar and olive trees. The sky overhead was brilliant blue and dotted with puffs of cloud, but beneath the trees, the deep green shadows raised gooseflesh on my arms. The hills rising up ahead of us were silent, and it seemed as if even the birds avoided this place.
My fellow gladiatrices ranged in a loose half circle around me, silent and formidable, faces and limbs marked with war paint. I could feel the designs on my own skin pull tight and tingle as I moved, and I shivered in anticipation of the battle to come, sensing the same coiled tension in the others. The battle readiness. Even Neferet, who’d sworn off ever picking up a weapon again, had a look to her that made me pity anyone who attempted to test her resolve regarding that oath. She shifted the surgeon’s bag on her shoulder, Leander at her side. He would stay with her, behind any kind of fighting we might encounter, to help with wounded—if it came to that. Knowing she was there with her bandages and instruments and potions made me feel better about what was potentially to come. About the fact that I was dragging my oath sisters into danger to rescue my blood sister. And I refused to even entertain the thought that she might not be there for us to rescue.
Arviragus had forgone the woad, but he didn’t really need it to be intimidating. And war paint would have looked a bit ridiculous on Leander—although the way he handled the blade we’d given him made me think that he’d picked up at least a few tricks, watching us all practice back at the ludus. It was almost enough to bring a smile to my lips as I watched him. The kitchen boy was finally the hero in his own tale, and he seemed determined to make the most of it.
Cai and Quint, for their part, were dressed in full battle garb, scarlet-plumed helmets waving in the breeze off the ocean. The very picture of ruthless legion efficiency. I was used to the stern, soldierly expression on Cai’s face under the brim of his helmet, but it was unsettling to see Quint’s gaze turned so hard.
“Thank you for leading us here, Quintus,” I said, before we set off.
“Don’t thank me,” he said. “You’re doing this for your sister, Fallon, but I do this for myself. And for the brother I never came back to save.”
He turned away and started up the path, and I glanced over to see Elka watching him go, her expression pensive. Her blue gaze stayed on Quint’s back until he had disappeared beneath the trees. I waved the others forward and we followed. The path wound beside a little tumbling river, over white rocks furred with moss, beneath the branches of ancient trees. It was worn smooth from many years of use, but it was steep going in places and we were all breathing hard after a quarter hour’s climb. Arviragus strode up the twisting incline in Quint’s wake directly ahead of me, the unsheathed sword in his hand swishing side to side, like the tail of a hunting cat. His head was in constant motion, eyes scanning the rugged terrain on both sides, and he was the one to sense the initial attack before any of the rest of us.
I could almost see the hackles rising on the back of his neck as he turned to me, his eyes almost black in the failing evening light as he said, “I have a bad feeling—”
And that was all he had time for.
The arrow slammed into the dirt between my feet. I yelped and dove for cover behind a stout, twisty pine, shouting for the others to do the same. I saw Ajani tackle Nephele out of the way, and Kore and Hestia ducked down behind a boulder. The rest of the girls were strung out along the path, with Gratia bringing up the rear, and I hoped frantically that our archer assailant was alone. If not, the girls would be easy pickings and there was nothing I could do about it. Cai landed in a tumbling crouch beside me as two more arrows sang through the air like hornets, and Arviragus scrambled around the other side of the tree as another missile grazed his ear.
“Damn my eyes!” he cursed, his broad shoulders jamming up against the rough bark of the tree. “I used to be a lot better at this sort of thing.” He reached up to touch his ear, and his fingertips came away bloody.
“I can’t imagine how all those years in a prison cell managed to dull your edge,” Cai said, frantically signaling Quint, who was ahead of us, taking cover with Elka.
“I think it was the wine,” Arviragus muttered dryly.
I edged around the bole of the tree, peering in the direction of where the arrow fire had come from, expecting another volley. Nothing. We waited, moving back onto the path only after a good long while had passed. The forest had resumed its eerie stillness, and eventually, Elka and Quint came loping back down the trail and the other girls climbed up to meet us.
“I think it’s clear,” Quint said, quietly. “Whoever took those potshots at us probably ran out of arrows.”
“If that’s the case,” I said, “they’ve probably run back to wherever they came from to warn of our presence. We’ve lost any element of surprise we might have had.”
“We don’t need surprise,” Antonia said. “We are the House Achillea, and we’ll win whether our foes expect us or not.”
There was a murmur of assent from the others, and I felt my heart swell at the bravery—and loyalty—of my companions as we set off back up the winding trail. In fairly short order we discovered that we hadn’t actually lost the element of surprise. But neither had our archer, who, it turned out, hadn’t run off at all.